Arcane Heir: History's Strongest Mage

The orb remained inert for several moments, appearing no different than a simple piece of glass. Then, Braydon let out a sudden groan of pain, his free hand flying to his temple.

Gradually, a swirling mist began to fill the glass, coiling and thickening within. Flashes of purple lightning danced inside the verdant green fog, like storm clouds threatening to unleash devastation upon any who dared approach.

But it wasn't over yet.

A sharp crackle of thunder echoed through the hall, followed by the sudden manifestation of three glowing orange rings. They shimmered brilliantly as they orbited around the sphere.

"Enough," the tall man said, raising a hand.

Braydon was flung backward from the pedestal, stumbling as he caught himself. He turned toward the desk, confusion etched on his face—as if waiting for an explanation or further instructions.

"Next," the man said with a brisk wave of his hand, gesturing to move things along.

Meanwhile, Michael watched in silence, completely lost. The headmaster had explained very little about the nature of the test, and he had no idea what the results even meant.

"Melody, what's happening?" he whispered, leaning closer and hoping she could provide some clarity.

"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted, narrowing her eyes. "But if my theory is correct, the first orb is measuring your soul density and birthright rings."

Birthright rings!?

Michael froze, a surge of panic crashing over him.

If that thing's accurate, won't it reveal that I was born with a single white ring?

He bit his lip, hard. He didn't know what the minimum requirement was to pass the entrance exam, but he was certain that if his result showed a white ring, he'd be disqualified on the spot.

"So that means Braydon was born with three orange rings?" he asked, trying to mask the rising tension in his voice. "What about the green mist inside the orb?"

"That likely indicates his soul density," Melody replied, keeping her gaze locked on the orb. "It suggests his soul has the potential to become a Verdant Mage."

Shit. I might really be exposed here… Michael cursed inwardly.

He had assumed the entrance exam would focus on magical theory, spellcasting, and practical mana control. He'd hoped that with enough study and practice, he could pass unnoticed.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Born with a single white ring, Michael had somehow ascended three full realms, now possessing a red ring. But the soul's natural limit was typically three ascensions—meaning he may have already hit his ceiling.

Given Arcadia's reputation as the nation's top academy, he highly doubted they'd accept a barely Crimson-stage mage whose potential had already peaked—especially not at the age of thirteen.

His spiraling thoughts were interrupted as the tall man resumed speaking.

"Place your hand on the orb and manipulate the mana within." He waved a hand, and seven lanterns materialized above the pedestal, each one stacked neatly atop the next.

"The more mana you're able to control, the more lanterns will light up," the man explained. "Please begin."

Michael's eyes widened, his heart pounding.

Mana manipulation—that was the one area he felt truly confident in.

Will they accept me if I excel in this test instead? he wondered, silently praying.

His attention shifted to Braydon, who had just placed his hand on the second orb. The lanterns above it stirred to life, the first three lighting up almost instantly.

Michael noted that each lantern glowed a different color—white, yellow, and orange—likely representing the tiers of the Arcana. If that were the case, then the remaining four would be red, blue, green, and violet.

When the fourth lantern flickered a faint red, his theory was all but confirmed.

Braydon appeared to be struggling. Sweat streamed down his young face as he pushed himself to ignite the fourth lantern, but no matter how hard he tried, it refused to fully light.

"That's enough, Mr. Marbury," the examiner stated coolly.

Braydon exhaled sharply, visibly relieved, and stepped back from the pedestal, wiping his brow. Everyone in the room held their breath, awaiting the tall man's verdict.

Would he pass with that score? Or was it too low? This would set the baseline for what the academy deemed acceptable.

"You may leave now," the examiner said, waving his hand.

At the gesture, the left-side door creaked open—the same one the headmaster had used earlier. Braydon's eyes lit up. He nearly bolted toward it before reining himself in, adopting a composed stride.

So that's the minimum threshold, Michael thought, feeling a flicker of hope.

Braydon exited without so much as a glance behind him, as though afraid the examiner might change his mind if he lingered too long. The moment he crossed the threshold, the door shut on its own.

"Next, Lloyd Myers," the man announced.

Another boy stepped forward, though far less confidently than Braydon. Understandable—few could match the son of Lord Marbury.

"Fourteen and two months," the examiner noted. "Proceed to the first orb."

Lloyd approached the glass sphere and placed his hand atop it. A slow swirl of red mist began to form inside, sluggishly filling the orb. When it finally settled, two dull yellow rings appeared, orbiting the sphere faintly.

"Enough."

Lloyd sighed and took a step back. Without waiting, he began walking toward the second orb, seemingly prepared for the next part of the exam.

But before he could reach it, the examiner's high voice rang out.

"That will be all," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

A hush fell over the room as the right door opened this time.

Lloyd froze mid-step, his eyes widening. A pitiful glance was cast toward the tall man, but the examiner had already moved on.

"Sophie Miller, please come up."

Michael inhaled sharply, sympathy tugging at his chest.

Poor kid… If Melody's theory was right, the boy had two yellow rings, but his soul wasn't dense enough to advance beyond the Crimson stage.

This only made Michael more anxious, shattering any hope he had that his mana control alone might redeem him.