Zane placed both hands gently on the Magical Orb.
A second later, mana surged from his core, rippling through his arms like a torrent. The orb began to hum, its surface glowing with a radiant brilliance. Then, the light intensified—sharpening, vibrating, humming at a pitch so high it made people's ears ring.
Suddenly—
BOOM!
A dazzling flash exploded outward, blinding everyone momentarily.
Gasps echoed throughout the hall. When the light faded, eyes widened in shock.
The Magical Orb had shattered—completely annihilated. Shards of ethereal crystal lay scattered across the table, the core disintegrated into nothingness.
Zane stood there awkwardly, his hand still hovering in the air. He offered a sheepish smile.
"Ah… sorry, sir. I didn't mean to do that."
One of the three selectors from House Drakon scratched the back of his head, trying to remain composed.
"I-It's alright. Just an… accident."
The other two looked visibly uneasy, exchanging glances.
That was one of only two Magical Orbs they had.
And now… only one remained.
For a faction like House Drakon—**poorly funded, barely sponsored—**even a single Magical Orb was a treasure beyond measure. The destruction of one meant decades of scrimping and grinding just to recover its value.
But then, they looked back at Zane. The boy who broke an orb—not out of carelessness, but sheer overwhelming power.
The three silently came to a conclusion.
Even if it costs us, pulling this guy into Drakon… is worth it.
Suddenly, applause echoed from below.
Shelby stood, clapping.
"Bravo! That was one hell of a show," he said, smiling for once. "I've never seen anyone break an orb. That's going down in the Hall of Records for sure."
Then he added with a calm assurance:
"Don't worry about the cost. I'll cover it from my own salary."
The three selectors let out a collective sigh of relief. They were only second- and third-year seniors, and a debt like this would have crushed them for years.
They bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Brother Shelby!"
Shelby responded coolly, his usual coldness returning.
"Don't thank me. I'm not doing it for you."
Back on stage, Zane blinked. "So… do I need to redo the internal test with the other orb?"
All three selectors shook their heads vigorously.
"No, no—absolutely not!"
"One is more than enough!"
"Let's not push our luck!"
They couldn't risk losing the last Magical Orb. One broken orb could be chalked up to the emergence of a monstrous talent. Two? That would be reported as reckless and might even lead to disciplinary action.
Selector Will Watson stepped forward.
"You've done more than enough, Zane," he declared. Then, turning to the five other factions' platforms, he raised his voice:
"We're assigning him a perfect score. Unless any of you would like to have him retake the test using your orbs?"
A long, uncomfortable silence followed.
Not a single selector replied.
No one dared to risk their own priceless relics—not for someone else's candidate.
Their silence spoke volumes.
"Very well then," Will said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Zane Carter receives a perfect mark for the Internal Assessment."
Zane stepped off the stage, returning to his seat beside Shelby.
"Will there be any consequences?" he asked quietly.
Shelby shook his head. "You did nothing wrong. Everyone here saw it. You poured your mana in—the orb just couldn't handle it."
Zane looked down, conflicted.
"How much did the orb cost?"
Shelby chuckled and slapped him lightly on the back.
"Enough to make a grown man cry. But don't worry. You're just a fresher—it'd be cruel to throw that burden on you. Besides…" He smirked.
"Breaking the orb has already put your name in the Hall of Amazing Feats. That's a world record. And because of that, the academy will cover ninety percent of the cost. I'm just paying ten percent—manageable stuff."
Zane looked at Shelby, a quiet emotion stirring in his chest.
He knew the orb was a priceless relic. And yet, Shelby—who barely knew him—had stepped up without hesitation.
In his early years, people had mocked him, bullied him, ridiculed him with every condescending name in the book.
But now?
For the first time, **he felt something foreign yet warm—**a sense of trust.
Here is a refined, immersive version of the continuation, keeping your original tone while improving grammar, pacing, and emotional depth:
And for the first time… Zane allowed himself to believe in it.
Half an hour later, the Internal Assessment Trial came to an end.
The hall buzzed with quiet excitement and hushed whispers as the large virtual screen lit up again, projecting the updated rankings for all to see.
Zane glanced up.
Rank #3
Green Cards: 157
Internal Assessment Score: Perfect
He wasn't surprised. Not after what had just happened.
But what did surprise him was the shift in the room.
The atmosphere around him had changed. The moment his name appeared on the board, eyes—dozens of them—turned toward him.
Not with contempt. Not with dismissal. But with something different.
Respect. Caution. Awe. Envy. Hope.
A mixture of notions that only those staring at him would ever truly understand.
From the central podium, Frankie stepped up once again, his booming voice easily silencing the crowd.
"Once more, a delightful applause for the record-breaking moment earlier!" he declared, sweeping his arm toward Zane. "The Academy has already received word. The Deans are quite excited to speak with you, Zane."
Zane straightened slightly, caught off-guard.
"Also, a quick clarification to ease your minds," Frankie continued. "As you all know, the mana assessment we conducted was private. Regardless of your status—commoner or noble—your data was handled with complete confidentiality. We only extracted the ratings necessary for evaluation."
"After collecting the scores, all individual mana data has been purged from our systems. No one, not even we selectors, can access your mana type, nature, or affinities anymore. So, rest easy. Your secrets are safe."
There were visible sighs of relief among the crowd.
Then, Frankie raised his hand again.
"Now, let's begin the final trial of this preliminary round. The Interview."
Whispers surged among the freshers.
"Here's how it will go," Frankie explained. "Each faction will send one selector to form a six-member panel. To save time, the interview will be conducted in groups of ten. A list will appear shortly on the screen."
He stepped back, and the giant screen shimmered to life again, displaying group numbers and names.
Zane's group hadn't been called yet.
"Interview?" Zane muttered under his breath. "What do they ask?"
Shelby smirked beside him.
"Nothing too serious. A little of this and that. Honestly, kid, after what you did in the last trial, even if you sat there in silence, you'd still get admitted with extra perks. Especially from House Drakon." He winked.
Zane chuckled softly, but his unease lingered.
Suddenly, a few freshers walked up to him, smiling nervously.
"Hey, Zane, right?" one of them asked. "That was… insane, what you did. I'm Marco. From Westridge."
"I'm Enya. Loved your fight earlier. You're kind of… famous now."
Zane blinked, unsure how to react. Making friends wasn't something he was used to.
Still, he nodded and shook their hands.
"Thanks. Nice to meet you," he said genuinely.
The conversations were brief but warm. For once, no sneers, no mocking eyes. Just people. Trying to connect.
It was… foreign. But oddly comforting.
Soon after, the group assignments were finalized, and freshers returned to their seats as names flashed in bright rows across the virtual screen.
Then the first group was called.
Ten students stood up and walked nervously to the interview stage, where six selectors, each from a different faction, waited behind a long table.
They greeted the ten with polite, practiced smiles.
But those smiles… didn't reach their eyes.
They were the smiles of wolves sizing up lambs.
The ten freshers sat down stiffly.
And thus, the interviews began.