Chapter 3

Cecilia's expression instantly shifted into a mask of pure, pitiful concern.

"Evelyn, why are you so on edge today? Are you really that afraid of losing?"

"If you want to go first that badly, I can give you my spot. Please, just don't disrespect the academy's sacred relic."

She subtly pulled her hand back from the pedestal. I caught the movement, and my certainty hardened.

"I don't need your charity," I shot back coldly, walking straight up to the pedestal. "I'm testing my own sequence."

Cecilia shook her head with a sigh, her tone as gentle as if she were coaxing an unreasonable child. "Evelyn, it's just a tournament. There's no need to act like you're going to war. Besides..."

She pointed to the golden insignia glowing on the crystal's surface, her smile flawless. "The relic already made its choice. I'm up first."

I ignored her, pressing my palm flat against the orb. A silver light flickered: Sequence Two.

Staring at the result, the color drained from my face.

I was wrong!

Cecilia had seen through my suspicion from the start. That little pullback was just bait. She deliberately walked me right into testing it myself to shut me up completely.

But for her meticulous plagiarism plan to work, she had to steal the stage before me. There was zero chance she'd leave something this critical up to mere luck.

This orb was absolutely rigged!

But how the hell did she do it?

Before I could say another word, the audience erupted into a deafening uproar.

"What is her problem today? So what if she goes second? Does the order change her magic?"

"Exactly! The prompt is improvisational. Going second gives her more time to think. She's just looking for excuses!"

"Look at Cecilia—calm and unbothered. That's the difference between real money and a slum rat. Evelyn might have raw talent, but she has zero class."

I shook my head, tuning out their vicious jeers. Every ounce of my focus was deadlocked on that crystal orb.

If this thing guaranteed I drew second every single time, the mechanism had to be right here.

Seeing me frozen in place, the host stepped up and gently nudged my shoulder.

"Evelyn, what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" he asked, his microphone broadcasting his fake concern to the entire arena. "Listen, if you're too intimidated to compete today, I can help you process your withdrawal right now—"

I didn't hesitate for a second. I pushed past the host and drove a sharp, invisible spike of mental energy directly into the orb's core.

Got it.

The ancient resonance of the Academy Crest was completely missing. Instead, a foreign strand of mental string was latched onto it—acting as a remote conduit, forcibly overriding the sequence output!

I lunged forward, grabbed the orb, and hoisted it high above my head.

Then, under the flashing cameras and the gasps of thousands of spectators, I smashed it straight into the ground.

The crystal shattered into countless jagged shards.

A dead, horrifying silence fell over the entire arena.

Among the glittering wreckage, a crude, spherical dummy core rolled out. Tightly wrapped in pitch-black control runes, it came to a dead stop right at my feet.