The Zenith Academy's Orientation Hall was massive—like a cathedral fused with a high-tech observatory. Giant holographic runes floated in the air, intertwining with arcane diagrams and spell circuits, reacting to the presence of magic from every student who stepped inside.
Hundreds of hopefuls were arranged by bloodline rank and school affiliation. Nobles stood confidently in the front. The scholarship applicants—orphans, commoners, the "lessers"—were crammed into the far back like excess data in a system waiting to be deleted.
Harvey stood dead center. Not front, not back. Just enough to be seen—but not important enough to be challenged.
Yet.
A large platform rose at the front of the hall. A projection shimmered to life—Vice Headmaster Gaius, an old warlock whose face was etched with countless battle scars, his eyes glowing with scanning magic.
"Welcome to Zenith," he said, voice deep and methodical. "Today's trial will determine your eligibility. This isn't about who your parents are. It's about whether you survive the system we've built."
The floor trembled.
"Trial: Begin."
Without warning, the room twisted. The floor folded in on itself like code unraveling, and a magic circle flared beneath each student. Screams echoed—but too late.
In a flash, they were gone.
---
Phase One – Virtual Combat Arena
Harvey opened his eyes to find himself standing in the middle of a vast digital wasteland, the sky above painted with glitching clouds and floating lines of code. The arena was artificial—a battlefield created from pure mana simulation, but the pain, the injuries, the magic—it was all real.
[System Activated: Trial Protocol Engaged.]
[Objective: Survive for 15 Minutes. Points awarded based on kill count, creativity, efficiency, and tactical control.]
Students began appearing in random locations across the map, each glowing faintly with mana markers. Harvey stood calmly as monsters formed from data lines—mutated beasts, war-forged constructs, even fallen spell constructs from old wars.
Most students screamed.
Harvey took a step forward.
"Initiate Subsystem: Copywalk."
[Subsystem Booting... Accessing External Spells... Successful.]
His eyes flickered gold. Lines of enemy spell-code danced across his vision.
He scanned them, learned them, rewrote them.
When the first monster charged, a ten-foot mechabeast with armor scales and code-threaded claws, Harvey didn't dodge. He stepped into it.
"Overclocked Flame Code: Ignition Path Beta."
A spell burst from his palm—one he'd never cast before, but one he'd just watched a noble use a few hundred meters away.
The mechabeast erupted into searing flame.
Kill Count: 1.
Harvey moved like a ghost through the battlefield—killing, copying, evolving. Each time a new spell appeared, he'd steal its sequence, analyze its flaws, and rebuild it mid-combat. Flame turned to lightning, lightning to ice, and ice to raw arcane energy. Unlike the others, he didn't burn mana like a fool.
He recycled it.
[Spell Efficiency Rating: 98.3% – Optimal Performance.]
Around him, others failed. Screams echoed as weaker students were knocked out, and noble heirs bumbled with flashy spells they didn't fully understand. Some noticed Harvey.
Too late.
A pair of twins—sword-wielding wind users from the Valtair family—charged at him together.
Harvey didn't move until they were close.
Then he lifted a finger. "Return your code to sender."
He rewrote their velocity algorithm with a flick.
They tripped midair—face first into an explosion of wind backlash.
Kill Count: 14.
"Who is that guy?" a girl nearby whispered. Her name—Lena—flashed across Harvey's vision. She was one of the few who survived till the end in the previous timeline.
But this time, he was the anomaly.
---
15 Minutes Later
The arena vanished, dissolving into data particles.
One by one, the students reappeared in the Orientation Hall, some injured, some unconscious. Harvey stood straight, not a single burn on his uniform.
Vice Headmaster Gaius raised a brow.
"Top Performer: Harvey No-Name. 41 eliminations. Perfect efficiency rating."
The silence was deafening.
Harvey stepped off the platform with the same neutral expression he always wore. Inside, his mind raced—not with fear, but with strategy.
Every noble here was a puzzle. Every spell a line of code to be rewritten. And every step forward would bring him closer to the truth—and to vengeance.
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