When he sat down on the benches he was a little lost. Marty had left, saying he had some business to do, and Fredrik had burrowed himself in paperwork.

The other people at the guild hall still didn’t pay him much attention.

Good, Marcel thought. He wanted to keep it as inconspicuous as possible.

He played with the thought of simply chalking up this whole guild business as a bad idea and leaving it be. He had no way of knowing what constituted a bad class and what didn’t, and it seemed foolish to risk it. He could simply get up and walk. The city was big enough that he would never have to see Marty again.

There surely would be other, more simple and less dangerous to be admitted into jobs waiting for him somewhere.

Yet at the same time he felt the adventuring calling to him. Marcel truly had played too many RPG’s and other roleplay games in his old world to let an opportunity like this rest. Nobody could be playing so many hours of DND without ever wishing to join a real world like that.

This might be his once in a lifetime opportunity. He wouldn’t let that slip.

Having set his mind, that all still left him with the question of the documents. He thought about asking somebody else to borrow a pen. But the others' reaction made him uncertain. Was he maybe not supposed to use a pen to fill it out? But how would he do it then?

Marcel started overthinking and slammed a hand onto the table in agitation. Suddenly a softly blue glow enveloped the piece of paper. A small flash of bright light went off, and when Marcel looked again it was fully filled out.

His name, his stats, his age and race. Even his class was filled out, but the name was different. There was no mention of the mysterious Rhea. Instead it was simply called “Warrior”. That only added to the sinking feeling in Marcel’s stomach.

Some part of him had expected his old class to appear on the paper again, marking this whole charade with his new class as nothing but a fluke.

Was his class maybe just a subclass? If so then he should be fine. Or was there another reason for it?

Finally Marcel gave up. He had destroyed enough of his brain yesterday. No need to mull over things more than he had to. Instead he simply leaned back and tried to forget the hammering pain in his head as much as possible.

The exam hall was lit by flowing crystals. They emitted a soft blue light that gave the whole place a mysterious and magical vibe. It was a big wide and open space, and Marcel couldn*t help but think it would be the perfect location for a party.

There was plenty of space, the lighting was perfect for a disco, and the giant podium in front would be perfect for a DJ:

Were it not for the three old white guys towering above him on their dark long desk and giving him scrutinizing looks, Marcel would’ve almost expected it to be a place for festivities.

They didn’t greet him, nor acknowledge his arrival in any way. The middle one of them, a man that was older than the other two by at least two decades, simply spoke up.

“Here it says your class is that of a warrior?” He read from the document Marcel had handed them.

“Ai,” Liam nodded. Not trusting his voice to elaborate further.

One of the three men nodded satisfied. He was a big burly man, even from this far away Marcel could see his broad shoulders stretching underneath his robe.

It wasn’t hard to guess what the proficiency and class of such a man would be.

The other two men, both a little more on the frail side, looked a little displeased with that answer.

“Another brute,” the old man in the middle sighed. He was, Marcel realized, the epitome of what one would expect from a wizard. He had the long gray beard, the withered face features, but instead of a pointy head, had a shiny bald head.

“Oh don’t be such a loser Melchior.” The burly man gestured towards Liam. “Let the boy show what he can.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Alright. So you hereby agree to the procedures we will conduct on you?”

“Uhh,” Marcel stuttered. “Well what are those procedures?”

It was the burly man who answered first. “A pretty standard background search spell. We will run your spiritual signature against the spiritual signature that has been found at any crime sites in the past.”

“Wow, that sounds… useful.” Marcel said, baffled. An instant crime scene DNA test? that would have helped a lot in his world.

The wizardy looking man shrugged. “Again it’s pretty standard. So you agree?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Marcel nodded.

The man to the right began moving his hands in cycles. Marcel could feel him emitting mana.

It was an inexplicable feeling, one that he still needed to get used to. It was almost like he could feel a part of the man's essence superimposing itself on the surrounding world, all the while he could feel it being powered by the same underlying energy that surged through him whenever he activated his skills.

Then a circle of bright light appeared at the height of Marcel's head. It widened until it was a little bigger than him from shoulder to shoulder, and began inching him downwards.

All the while Marcel felt a cold tingle wandering down his spine. When the white circle of light reached the floor, it evaporated in a puff of smoke.

The man nodded satisfied and turned towards the other two admissioners. After drawing their heads together and talking to each other, the big burly man turned towards Marcel with a frown on his face.

„We found your signature linked to an aristocratic killing.“ He said emotionlessly.

Marcel felt cold. „No that must be a mistake.“

A thousand scenarios played through his mind. Would he be able to make it out of the door in time? The hall wasn’t that far. The admissioners just kept staring at him.

Suddenly the man's frown broke out into a wide smile. „I’m just messing with you. The crime that was linked happened like four hundred years ago. Even if you had some very potent youth serum, we don’t really believe it could've been you.“

„Signatures can be similar to each other at times,“ the man farthest to the right of the group said. He was wearing thick horn glasses and nodded.

„Why did you have to phrase it like that then?“ Marcel breathed a sigh of relief.

The burly man chuckled. “Have some fun boy.”

Marcel was rethinking all the nice things he had had to say about the man.

„So on to the next part,“ Melchior said. „The class scan.“

The man wearing the classes stood up again, this time he didn’t need to do any elaborate spell weaving through, he simply snapped his fingers and a jolt went through Marcel.

He almost doubled over in pain. It was like a parasite had forced its way into him and was forcefully wrecking his way through him.

He could barely hear the burly man say, „It may hurt a little.“ Before his vision whitened. Thankfully it was gone as quick as it came. His eyes cleared and he straightened himself again. It was a good thing his tongue didn’t fully obey him again already, otherwise he would have cursed these men.

A little screen hovered in front of them. They looked at it, and then turned towards marcel.

„A stable boy!?“ Melchior made no attempt to hide the discontempt on his face.

The other two men also looked at Marcel in confusion. The man with the glasses spoke up. „Are you sure you want to join the guild? This is no simple job, it is risky.“

Before Marcel could answer though, Melchior shouted.

„That is an offense,“ the man almost sprang up in outrage. „Not just do you lie to us on the forms, with whatever kind of mutated spell you have, you even dare to waste our time in the hopes of joining as a stable boy.“

„I can fight,“ Marcel assured them. „And I didn’t lie on the forms. It must've been a mistake!”

„There can be no mistakes, the man answered.

„Well actually there are sometimes,“ the man with the glasses jumped in. „Especially with subclasses. The forms are far from perfect.“

„Subclasses yes, but putting warrior when he is a mere stable boy?“ The bald man's voice was dripping with venom.

„Well his stats are pretty high for a stable boy,“ the burly man said.

The bald man threw up his arms in exaggerated fashion. „So on to the next thing then Mason, since you seem to have found such a liking to the guy, you might lead the conversation.“

The burly man nodded and turned towards Marcel. „What is your reason for wanting to join the adventurers guild?“

Marcel thought for a second. Fredirk had told him there was a question part, but that wasn’t quite what he had expected. He thought for a second.

His reasons were multiple. For one he wanted to live out all of his RPG fantasy that had built over the years. For another he wanted to get stronger and level his class, he had the feeling that this world was truly only built for the strong, and his run in and following manhandling by the estates servants had only proved that.

But most importantly, if he was being honest with himself, he just wanted a good life. Nothing would see him going back to the stables again, and he hadn’t learnt many trades that could otherwise be of use to him in this world.

All he had to offer was a wide knowledge about taxes and how best to avoid them, but something told him that wasn’t a big issue in this world.

„Money,“ he said.

„Money?“

„Yes I want a job. I need a way to make a living. I don’t have some noble reason or anything. I just want to get to a point where I don’t have to work anymore, and it seems that adventuring is my best option for that.“

„There is also money to be made as a stable boy without risking your life.“

„Don’t get me wrong but I hate horses. In fact I think there aren’t many things I hate more.“

The man frowned heavily. Marcel could see the displeasure on the other two admissioners faces. He felt like he was losing even the burly man.

„Well I guess money is as good a reason as any…“

The bald man rolled his eyes. „Fine whatever. Let the money seeking mercenary join. Why should it be my problem? Let’s just get through with this so I can go for my lunch break. Not as if those monkeys at the first floor will ever make their way up.”

He waved his hands and a wax seal appeared. It floated over towards Marel and started vibrating in front of him. He didn’t like the vibe the thing was giving off, but not wanting to push his luck, he simply kept standing and let the thing be.

The vibrating grew more intense. It was like the thing was sending off mana waves, then, as Marcel recognized something familiar. His ears hurt. It was the same wavelength as his own mana.

Then the thing connected with his chest. A deep thrum went through him.

„There, congratulations, you're now part of the guild,“ the bald man said. „Now please free the admission hall for other candidates.“