Once that was over, they headed to the waiting area. The waiting area was packed with aspiring adventurers of all types—warriors with swords, mages with staffs, rogues with daggers, even a few exotic classes he didn't recognize.
"It's always like this," Kenneth explained. "Mashlow processes registrations for the entire southern region. People come from all over to register here because it's one of the few places authorized to issue official licenses."
"How long is the wait?"
"Could be hours, but once you're registered, you're set for life. The license is recognized across the entire kingdom."
Without complain, Yamamoto settled in to wait, watching the process. Every so often, a clerk would call out five names, and those people would disappear through a set of double doors for their assessment.
From the conversations around him, Yamamoto gathered that registration wasn't just about paying a fee. There was an actual test involved—a capability assessment to prove you had the minimum skills necessary to be considered a professional adventurer.
And apparently, you could fail.
The fee—15 gold for expedited processing—was non-refundable even if you failed the assessment. Yamamoto heard several people grumbling about this, calling it a scam designed to extract money from hopefuls who had no business adventuring, but others defended it, arguing that it discouraged people who weren't serious, who'd just get themselves killed on their first quest and waste everyone's time. Yamamoto somehow agreed with the later.
Either way, he had already paid, so no going back now.
He waited for nearly two hours, watching groups get called in and emerge either triumphant or dejected. The failure rate seemed to be around 30-40%—not terrible, but significant enough to make him slightly nervous.
'What exactly are they testing in there!?' Game in the game, his level could still be considered a newbie, but at least he had all those free stat points, they'd surely make a difference.
Finally, he heard his name called, alongside a couple others, "Odinson! Kirsh! Mirrin! Arwin! Selwick! "
Yamamoto stood up with the others, and they were ushered through the double doors into a large chamber that looked part gymnasium, part testing facility. Several stations were set up within and along the walls, each designed for different types of assessment.
They met a woman inside, dressed finely, but not fancy. "Welcome to capability assessment. First, we verify your basic attributes. Place your hand on the verification sphere when called."
A crystalline ball about the size of a human head sat on a pedestal. One by one, they were called forward to touch it.
When Yamamoto's turn came, he placed his hand on the smooth surface. The sphere glowed softly, and a number appeared floating above it: 8.
"My level?" Yamamoto muttered to himself.
The woman noted it without comment.
Once done, she looked at the five before her as she spoke. "Levels are secondary only, as you know" she announced to the group. "What matters, even outside registration, are demonstrable skills and capabilities. A level 15 adventurer with weak skills is less valuable than a level 8 with powerful techniques."
Thinking about it, it made sense, actually. In this world, skills and mastery determined your effectiveness more than raw level. Someone could grind to level 20 fighting weak monsters and still be useless in real combat.
"Based on your classes, you'll be divided into assessment groups. Physical damage dealers to Station Three. Mages to Station Five. Support classes to Station Seven."
All five of them ended up at Station Three—apparently this batch was entirely physical combatants.
Station Three consisted of a large open area with what looked like cylindrical stone pillars of varying sizes. Each pillar was about human-height and vaguely person-shaped—some kind of testing dummies.
Their examiner was a well built man that could go for a seasoned warrior anywhere, based on looks alone. He had scars covering his arms and looked hard. Well, judging the book by the cover was never a good idea in a world where some "cute loli" could have the stats and skills to punch and shatter a house.
The man looked at them, almost bored, speaking almost as though he didn't want to. "Simple demonstration of destructive capability. You get three attempts per dummy. Destroy it, we replace it with a tougher one. Keep going until you can't break through anymore. This tests your damage output, technique efficiency, and resource management."
He gestured to the first dummy. "This one's baseline. Most competent fighters can break it with a solid strike. Begin when ready."
The young lady with the spear went first. Her first strike cracked the dummy but didn't break it. Her second strike, enhanced with what looked like a skill activation—as her spear glowed briefly—shattered it completely.
One of the sword users went next, breaking the first dummy on his second attempt.
Then it was Yamamoto's turn.
He approached the first dummy, studying it. He had no idea how durable these things actually were, but he had three attempts and didn't want to waste MP on the easy ones. The others had struggled a bit, so he wasn't too sure, hoping that they were just weak.
Yamamoto drew his sword and struck with a simple, clean slash—no skills, just his 18 Strength.
The dummy split cleanly in two and crumbled.
The examiner nodded and gestured for a second dummy to be brought out. This one looked identical but was apparently more durable. It went on like that.
Yamamoto struck again. This time the dummy resisted more, but his blade still carved through it. Two pieces.
The third dummy took more effort. His blade bit deep but didn't quite break through on the first strike. The second strike finished the job.
For the fourth dummy, Yamamoto activated Sword Slash. His blade glowed faintly with the skill's energy, and he felt the familiar surge of enhanced power and speed.
The skill had reached maximum proficiency—100/100—which meant it had evolved slightly. Still level 1, which was the max level, but the bonuses had increased from +2% to +3% attack power and speed, with an additional minor boost to cutting power.
The dummy shattered.
Fifth dummy. Another Sword Slash, and it was destroyed. By now, he was the only active one left.
Facing the sixth dummy, this one resisted even his enhanced strikes with al almost unnatural durability. He used Sword Slash for his first attempt—barely scratched it. For his second attempt, he activated Piercing Strike, channeling his energy into a focused thrust that ignored 20% of defense.
The dummy cracked but held. Third attempt, another Piercing Strike with everything he had, and at the end, the dummy was still standing, well damaged, but not destroyed.
"That's your limit," the examiner declared. "Six dummies. Not bad for level 8."
Yamamoto stepped back, slightly frustrated. He'd done well, but he could tell from the examiner's tone that it wasn't exceptional.
The other four went through their assessments, achieving similar results—between three and five dummies each.
After the physical tests, they went through a brief interview about adventuring experience and underwent a basic background verification, which Yamamoto was grateful didn't go too deep, given his complete lack of actual documentation.
Finally, they were led back to the main registration area and given their results.
"Congratulations," a clerk said, handing Yamamoto a small metal badge with his name engraved on it. "You've passed capability assessment. You are hereby registered as an Iron-rank adventurer with the Adventurer's Association."