Finally, it was my turn.
I stepped forward, and with every step, a heavy constriction gripped my chest, as if something were squeezing my heart from within. I felt as though I had already failed, as if the verdict had been handed down before I even began. Yet I whispered to myself: Let whatever happens, happen.
I reached the platform, and the guard said sharply:
"Place your hand on the sphere."
I obeyed.
It didn't light up.
It remained dark.
A bitter, self-mocking laugh echoed in my mind: Haha… I knew it. It's over.
But before I could finish that thought, a crimson glow began to seep from the sphere.
Time seemed to stop.
I couldn't tell whether it was sheer shock or an overwhelming surge of joy.
The guard looked at me with a hint of warmth, repeating the same words he had spoken to those before me.
Despite that, it took me a moment to find my voice.
"It is my pleasure," I finally managed to say.
I stepped aside, and the trial continued. A heavy weight lifted from my shoulders. I felt as if I owned the world, as though there was nothing else I could ever desire.
As the testing proceeded, a sudden flash of brilliant white light erupted from the sphere, pulling me out of my euphoria.
Everyone in the hall turned. Even those ten… they turned.
All eyes were fixed on a single figure: a girl with mesmerising blue hair and a face of incomparable beauty. She was, without question, the most stunning presence in the room—both in form and in grace.
Despite every gaze upon her, she showed no hint of shyness or surprise. Her expression remained cold, unyielding.
The guard finally spoke:
"Expected of Amanda… after all, she comes from that family."
Once her test concluded, and before the crowd could react, she walked calmly toward Rustle and stood beside him.
Rustle did not react.
It wasn't that he lacked interest in women, nor that she wasn't beautiful enough. The moment he saw that white light—and the reactions of the crowd, especially those ten—he dismissed any thought of her.
He knew this type of woman. This was the kind every man, worthy or not, would fight over.
Her coldness and lack of emotion only cemented his conviction: She is a ticking time bomb of trouble, and I am no match for her.
To make matters worse, she chose to stand beside him, further complicating the situation. If he moved away now, it would draw enormous attention; his actions might even be seen as a slight against someone destined for greatness.
.
So he remained rooted in place, his earlier joy completely forgotten. To avoid seeming indifferent or cold, he stole fleeting glances at her from time to time.
Once he felt he had done enough to appear composed, he refocused on the testing grounds, which had paused briefly after Amanda's display.
The guard eventually shook off his trance and resumed the trials.
As the tests continued, ten more individuals appeared: seven whose spheres glowed green, and three whose spheres shone red.
Two men were there: one remarkably handsome, and the other utterly dejected, pale-skinned with dark circles around his eyes from lack of sleep.
The girl, however, radiated exceptional beauty and high energy. Her name was Miranda. Her red hair mirrored Rustle's, and her beauty rivalled Amanda's—yet her talent rivalled only Rustle's.
Boredom crept in as the hours dragged on. I grew weary of counting and stopped after the seventy-second candidate.
Then the guard's voice rang out clearly:
"Maxwell Volt, step forward."
One of the final four stepped up. He seemed timid and withdrawn, as if he wished to be anywhere else.
The guard commanded:
"Place your hand on the sphere."
The moment his palm touched it, the hall was flooded with light. But this time… it was golden.
Everyone rose to their feet. Even those who bolted from their seats were struck dumb by what they were seeing.
The guard looked as if he might faint from sheer shock. A talent of this level was so rare that it could be counted on two hands.
Noticing the astonishment on the recruits' faces, he thought: Let me build a rapport with them—it may prove useful later, without any cost.
He announced loudly:
"I know you are wondering why everyone is stunned."
He paused briefly, then continued:
"You were supposed to study this over the next two weeks, but consider it a reward."
He went on:
"Talents are divided into four ranks. Green signifies Ordinary. Red is Intermediate. White is High."
He lowered his voice as he gazed at the golden glow:
"But Gold… Gold is Legendary."
Silence fell over the room.
"In the last thousand years, only ten people have been born with this talent," he continued. "All surpassed the Third Level, except for three… because they are still young."
He cast a long look at Maxwell.
"Imagine the future of this boy."
The boy shrank under the attention, lowering his head in shyness.
Before anyone could speak, a colossal pressure rippled through the hall.
I collapsed to the ground, gasping, unable to comprehend what was happening. I glanced at Amanda—she was in the same state, if not worse. Every examinee dropped to their knees under the weight of the crushing aura.
Once it was certain that everyone was kneeling, I forced my eyes upward toward the platform… and I froze.
Those ten—once untouchable and imposing—now appeared strained, veins bulging on their foreheads. In unison, they chanted:
"Welcome, Leader."
Then… they all bowed.