Freya’s boots sunk into the sand. Cliffs surrounded the lakeshore inlet, but the sandy beach here was surprisingly wide. The fine sand didn’t allow for footprints, but thousands of tiny bumps from people walking littered the beach. People hung about in clusters. Freya noticed many of them watching her as she walked further out into the open. At the north end of the inlet, black and red flags fluttered from long wooden poles. 

The woman she met early directed her to these flags when she asked about registering for the demoniclast apprentice trials. As she trudged across the sand, she wondered if all the people staring at her were also here for the same reason. Most of them were teenage boys. Freya heard participants had to fight duels against one another for one of the trials. Perhaps they were getting a look at their competition. 

Studying them out of the corner of her eye, she was secretly pleased to see most of them were far below her level. The majority of people hanging out around the beach ranged from level ten to thirteen. 

Once she passed through the line of flags, a sign came into view.

{Demoniclast Trials Register Here}

A simple table was set up underneath the large sign. It looked too informal to be the real registration site, but the three people sitting on one side of the long table confirmed it; they were all demoniclasts. The green color of two out of three of their text boxes made Freya’s heart skip a beat.

As she got closer, she recognized one of the players. 

[Daveth Cest]

[Lvl 18 Samurai]

It was the man she met outside the blacksmith shop. He smiled at her and nudged the other person with a green text box beside him.

[Meng Gu]

[Lvl 19 Samurai]

The woman clearly looked over Freya’s head. Freya tried to settle her racing heart while also peeking up at her ID screen.

Stop looking, she chided herself. I’m Frey. My identity will hold. I don’t need to keep checking. Don’t do weird things that will expose me as a game player!

“Are you looking to register?” the bored voice of the third demoniclast asked. He sat with stacks of paper weighted with rocks around him. 

[Tarvo Tewdar]

[Lvl 15 Demoniclast]

His ordinary, grey text box color calmed her heart.

“Yes, I want to become an apprentice.”

“Fill out this form, please write in common,” Tarvo said, taking a piece of paper from one of the smaller paper stacks and handing it to her. Meng, who sat in the middle, rolled a pen towards Freya.

As Freya’s hand touched the paper, Beep!

Startled, she almost let the pen roll off the table. Snatching up the pen, she tried to make it appear as if she was looking at the paper, not the text box floating in the air.

[Demoniclast Apprentice Trial Event Dungeon will begin in 16hr 23 min]

[Do you wish to participate?]

[Yes] [No]

A trickle of sweat ran down Freya’s back as she pretended to ignore the floating text box. She squinted her eyes at the paper.

“If you can’t read or write common, you’re automatically disqualified,” Tarvo said.

“No, I can do it.”

It seemed harsh that potential demon fighters had to be literate, but that wasn’t Freya’s primary concern. Ever since the paper had touched her hand, she felt the stares of the two demoniclast players. 

Is this how they determine if someone is a player? What is going on? Is this a trap? No, no. Players don’t have the power to create dungeons. Just pretend you don’t see it. I’m a normal person just filling out this form. I’m a little nervous because this is a big step for me, that’s all.

After filling out her name and country of origin, Tarvo’s stare lessened. Her penmanship probably convinced him she was literate. Eventually, Meng and Daveth’s gazes also dissipated. Freya had made no move to interact with the text box. She planned to fix her hair and sneakily click the [Yes] button at the same time. However, when she finished the form, the prompt disappeared as if she had made the choice.

Freya handed the form back to Tarvo. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt as Tarvo read over the paper. The questions were simple, but he took a long time to read over them. Finally, he nodded. 

Meng reached into a bag on the table and pulled out a seashell. It reminded Freya of a flatter snail shell. Using a small tool, she scratched the number {245} onto it.

“This is your participant badge, don’t lose it, and don’t steal anyone’s if you do lose it. We will check at the end of the trial if this badge belongs to you.” She held out a small knife to Freya, “Put a drop of your blood into the body of the shell.”

Taking the knife, Freya poked her fingertip and let her blood drip into the shell. A faint orange glow flickered momentarily from the shell. Despite the death of the original animal, it seemed the shell still held some magical properties.

“The first trial starts here at sunrise tomorrow,” Daveth said, smiling once again. “Make sure to bring your shell, and the best of luck to you.”