Only fifty would advance to the next round. Each arrow loomed as a potential decision, a moment that could determine the course of the examination and, in some cases, the course of their lives.
Above it all, the Orb of Accord hovered, spinning slowly, its luminous mist weaving patterns in the air like the slow dance of smoke. It shimmered faintly, the glow shifting and pulsing, almost as though it could sense the tension and potential in every student below.
Its presence was both reassuring and intimidating, a reminder that destiny was watching, measuring, and waiting to respond to the actions of those brave enough to take their shot. The silence of the moment was thick, heavy with expectation, every breath drawn with care, every heartbeat echoing like a drum in the minds of the competitors.
