Zayne fell silent.
He did not expect to get two consecutive byes.
Everyone watching the college entrance trial livestream was just as stunned.
They now crowned Zayne the god of the draw.
The biggest dark horse of this year’s college entrance trial had appeared.
He had not lifted a finger and still made it into the top four.
This was unprecedented.
And it would likely never happen again.
First round, he scared his opponent into tears.
Second and third rounds, his opponents surrendered.
Fourth and fifth rounds, he got byes.
Even fiction writers would not dare write sothing this ridiculous.
"Your luck is insane," Francis said with a sigh.
"If you like byes so much, you can have them," Zayne replied casually.
"No no no. I do not want that," Francis shook his head hard.
A bye was both good and bad.
It skipped the fight, but it gave no points.
If you got a bye in round four, the next round ant facing the strongest remaining candidates.
You had to win at least one match to earn another ten points.
Zayne had received two byes.
His score was only 130.
Round six was the semifinals.
Round seven was the finals.
That ant if Zayne wanted the full 150 points, he had to win both remaining matches and take the championship.
Without absolute strength, two byes would only an walking into the semifinals to get destroyed.
"Who is your opponent in round five?" Zayne asked.
Francis already had 136 points.
With that score, top academies across Aurelion were open to him.
Win or lose in round five did not matter much.
Unless he wanted the championship.
"Take a guess," Francis winked with a sleazy grin.
Zayne raised an eyebrow.
"Do not tell it is Nia."
"You got it in one," Francis nodded.
"She is not easy to deal with. If things go bad, just forfeit," Zayne advised.
Francis was one level higher than Nia.
But Zayne knew better than anyone how that level was obtained.
Francis had not fully adapted to his sudden level surge.
His class was only A rank.
On paper he was stronger.
In reality, his odds against Nia were low.
"Forfeit?" Francis snorted.
"That woman keeps targeting you. Even if I lose, I am going to teach her a lesson."
"Do not worry."
Zayne was about to say more when Kasady’s voice rang out.
"Round five is about to begin. All candidates, take the stage."
"Wait for my good news," Francis said, giving a thumbs up before heading toward the arena.
Excluding Zayne, who had a bye, only six candidates remained in round five.
The most anticipated match was clearly Nia versus Francis.
Both had already stepped into the arena to display their class and level.
Nia, Fire Mage, Level 14
Francis, Shadowblade Swordsman, Level 15
The levels alone made many people gasp.
Fourteen versus fifteen.
In previous years, this would have been a championship match.
Yet this year, it happened before the top four.
The crowd erupted into discussion.
"Shadowblade Swordsman. Is that not an A rank class? How did he reach level 15?"
"Everyone’s physique is different. I once went twenty tis in a rage."
"You do not know. I saw it myself."
"Zayne crippled monsters and let Francis finish them."
"His levels are all thanks to Zayne."
"What? There is such a good deal?"
"I have a friend who wants to ask if Francis likes big butts."
So that was the secret.
No wonder an A rank class reached level 15.
On the arena, Nia looked at Francis coldly.
Her refined and beautiful face showed no emotion.
"Francis, I really do not understand what kind of spell Zayne cast on you," she said, holding her spellbook.
"That you would follow him so blindly."
"You do not need to understand," Francis replied.
Clang.
He drew a longsword that glead with cold light.
His gaze sharpened.
"One day, when you finally understand what kind of person Zayne really is," Nia said calmly, shaking her head.
"You will regret it."
In her eyes, Francis was just a fool deceived by Zayne.
The mont the proctor announced the start, Nia acted imdiately.
"Explosive Phoenix Fla."
Light flared from her spellbook.
Countless fireballs rose around her graceful figure and blasted toward Francis.
The intense heat sent the arena temperature soaring.
Before the attacks even reached him, sweat ford on Francis’s forehead.
Francis gripped his sword tightly.
His body moved like a blur.
He did not block the fireballs head on.
Instead, he used the arena edges and corners to evade with precision.
Fireballs exploded beside him.
Flas splashed everywhere.
Yet they never touched him.
"How many tis can you dodge?" Nia asked calmly as she flipped her spellbook.
All the fireballs rged into a massive wall of fla.
It surged forward with world ending force.
Facing this indiscriminate attack, Francis’s eyes hardened.
There was no way to dodge.
He had to face it head on.
He took a deep breath.
Power surged through his body.
Cold light flared along his sword.
He slashed straight at the incoming fire wall.
"Sword Art Slash."
Sword energy collided with the flas.
A thunderous explosion shook the arena.
The fire wall was torn apart.
Streams of fla scattered like blooming fire lotuses in the air.
Francis’s figure flickered within the firelight.
When stray flas landed on him, his skin burned instantly.
He ignored it and charged straight toward Nia.
He knew this clearly.
Against a fire mage, only close combat gave him a chance.
Surprise flashed through Nia’s eyes.
She did not expect Francis to block that attack head on.
Anger rose in her heart.
She needed to defeat Zayne to prove herself to her father.
If she could not even handle Francis, how could she challenge Zayne?
A sharp light flashed in her eyes.
Facing the charging Francis, she stayed calm.
She flipped her spellbook again.
Streams of flaming arrows rose and shot toward Francis at high speed.
Francis moved like the wind.
Like a shadow, he weaved through the flaming arrows.
He leapt and dove.
He dodged with precision.
When an arrow could not be avoided, he swung his sword.
Sharp sword energy sliced the flas apart.
After several rapid movents, Francis reached Nia.
He had closed the distance.
At that mont, Nia did not panic.
Instead, she smiled.
That smile made Francis’s heart sink.
In the next second, her spellbook flipped rapidly on its own.
Her long hair lifted as if caught in a storm.
"Crimson Fla Sea."
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