Gazelle was dumbstruck.
For a long moment, the world around her dulled, everything drowned in the intense light pouring from the Orb of Judgement.
She instinctively shielded her eyes, blinking rapidly to adjust to the blinding radiance.
The orb had reacted the instant it came into contact with Ezekiel's mana — not just glowing, but flaring with divine brilliance, like a miniature sun suspended in the center of the Assessment Hall.
And then the numbers started to climb.
Fast.
10%...
22%...
36%...
She'd seen thousands of applicants take the Class Compatibility Test over the years, including some very gifted nobles and heirs of esteemed lineages. A score above 70% already guaranteed immense prestige. 80% meant you could fast-track into high noble positions or even be employed by the Royal families.
But this?
This was unprecedented.
63%...
77%...
85%...
The floating glyphs on the orb glowed golden now, spinning in slow, majestic rotation above the glowing sphere. Gazelle's mouth parted slightly. The threshold for most straightforward and relatively "easy" classes hovered between 70 and 80 percent.
Even classes with incredibly low requisites like Enchanters or Divine Guardians averaged around 80 at best.
To reach 85% with a class like Summoner — a class universally regarded as one of the most complex and highest ceiling in the mage tree — was already worthy of being called a once-in-several-generations talent.
But the orb didn't stop there.
92%...
97%...
99%...
Her breath caught in her throat.
99.98%
The floating numbers pulsed once, and then settled with a finality, suspended in the air as if defying time itself.
Gazelle's hand went to her chest, her heart pounding so violently she could feel it in her throat. She couldn't believe her eyes — not because of disbelief in the orb, but because of what the number meant.
The Orb of Judgement was a divine relic — a gift said to have descended directly from the Divinity of Judgement. It didn't lie. Its results were as immutable as fate.
99.98%
The EX-Grade threshold. The legendary statistical ceiling.
No one — no one — could hope to reach it without being blessed by a magnitude of miracles and fortunate coincidences. In fact, in the entire documented history of Enia, only one person had ever scored that high.
That was less than two years ago.
And now... This calm, charming, soft-spoken noble stood before her with the same number hanging in the air.
What were the chances that two Legendary geniuses were to appear one after another?
If news of this were to go out, perhaps the entire world of Enia would be shaken with disbelief. It may even set in motion plans and schemes, the likes of which never seen before.
Just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine.
She couldn't speak. Not right away. Her words clung to her throat, struggling to form under the weight of disbelief and awe.
Could the Orb be broken? No... impossible. The Orb of Judgement was an indestructible, etched with the insignia of the Divinity itself.
The lack of .02% in the final score also wasn't a flaw in the otherwise perfect potential of the man before her — it was the built-in margin of cosmic error, a universal constant accounting for the chaos of free will. No entity, not even the Divine, could assess a soul with perfect clarity.
She took a sharp breath and tried to regain her composure. Her fingers trembled, her lips pressed into a thin line as she silently cursed herself for underestimating him.
Just earlier, she'd offered him recommendations for other classes, fully expecting him to fail the assessment.
Now?
Now she wished she could dig a hole somewhere and hide. The embarrassment was crushing.
But what could she do? This was her job and she couldn't run away from it.
Gazelle could only take a mental note to never act that presumptuously again. Someone had once said that everyday was a lesson, and they were right.
Ezekiel, meanwhile, stood frozen, his brows furrowed as he stared up at the floating number. It hadn't even fully sunk in.
He'd expected 80, maybe a miracle 85 — anything beyond that would've just been delusional on his part.
But this?
He looked again. Triple-checked.
99.98%
Not 89. Not 79.
This is real, he thought.
A faint shifting beneath his collar made his eyes widen. A subtle movement, light as breath — but it reminded him of something he had nearly overlooked.
The Orb… it hadn't just evaluated his Charm, Intelligence, and Wisdom — the main stats that typically determined class compatibility for Summoners.
It had picked up something more.
Something hidden.
His affinity with tameable creatures.
His adaptability.
His ability to form bonds.
The system wasn't mistaken, nor was there a gap in his understanding of the mechanism behind the class assessment. He simply had stumbled upon a series of unforeseen fortunes and acted proactively to grasp them in his hands even though he hadn't realized it then.
Ezekiel exhaled slowly, a thrill of nervous excitement surging through him. If his memory of the lore was accurate, then the only other person in ReLife history to achieve this score had been the Princess of the Xerad Empire — the Sorceress Princess, at the age of 19. She was 21 now, and a legend in the making.
A princess by birth. Future empress by fate. The kind of person who could move armies with a command or reshape world policies just by blinking.
And yet here he stood, equal to her in compatibility.
Ezekiel allowed himself a small, private smile — though it didn't reach his eyes. He knew better than to fantasize about fame or headlines. He couldn't afford it. His enemies would devour him if they knew who he was and the treasure he carried within himself.
He may have all the cheat codes, but he wasn't strong enough yet to build a Legacy upon them.
So, to him… what mattered at the moment wasn't prestige.
It was leverage.
Benefits. Opportunities. Hidden class quests. Access to sealed Summoner sanctums. Maybe even contact with the Beast Relics.
Ezekiel finally felt like he could test the limits of the knowledge he owned. He was an inherently ambitious man, and he wouldn't let these fortunes go to waste.
As his thoughts reached to that point, Gazelle finally spoke up.
Her voice was soft at first, as if unsure the words would land.
"...Congratulations, Sir Ezekiel."
She swallowed, forcing her professional tone to return.
"What you've just achieved… it is beyond legendary. With this result, you are now officially tied with the Sorceress Princess of Xerad for the highest class compatibility score ever recorded — not just among Summoners, but across every known class in Enia."
Her hands clutched on a clipboard she had grabbed from somewhere at one point. She was having quite the difficulty keeping her excitement down. While she also tried her absolute best not to say anything to offend the treasure of a person in front of her.
"Would... would you like your name registered in our archives? Your achievement could go down in the annals of the Adventurer's Association permanently."
Ezekiel met her eyes, and for a split second, he saw genuine joy in them. She wasn't faking this. She seemed to love her job. And right now, she was looking at something no Adventurer's Clerk got to see even once in their lifetime. Her reaction was understandable.
He smiled faintly.
"No." His voice was calm. "Please keep it off the record. Just register the result quietly."
Gazelle blinked, visibly startled. "You don't want your name associated with the score?"
"Not right now," Ezekiel replied, voice quiet but firm. "Maybe someday. But not yet."
She nodded slowly, reluctant but respectful.
"Very well, Sir. Your wishes will be honored."
Gazelle sighed inwardly, a bittersweet twinge threading through her awe.
What a shame.
Not the result, of course, but the fact that she couldn't shout about it from the rooftops.
She naturally understood Ezekiel's refusal. Even thought that it was an incredibly wise choice.
With a score like that, fame wouldn't just bring glory; it would draw envy, spies, power-hungry factions, and perhaps worse — assassination.
Still… it really was such a waste to let this stay hidden.
Tch, Gazelle clicked her tongue internally.
Why today, of all days?
Her hand subconsciously squeezed her clipboard tighter as she recalled the Association Branch Manager's absence.
The bald oaf had gone off for a personal errand — a grape-picking expedition, of all things.
Grapes!
He'd claimed it was to "reconnect with nature," but Gazelle knew better. He was probably just dodging work.
She rolled her eyes at the thought.
He better choke on a seed, she thought darkly, though a mischievous grin tugged at her lips. It was rare for her husband to miss anything significant, but today he'd done more than just miss a big moment — he had missed history.
She could already imagine the devastation on his face once he heard the news. That stupid, furrowed brow, the deep frown, the dramatic slouch in his shoulders. Yes… this would haunt him for months. Maybe even years. And honestly?
Serves him right.
With a quiet exhale, she cast aside her petty satisfaction and returned her focus to Ezekiel. The momentary distraction through cursing her husband had helped her settle her excitement, allowing her to resume her trademark professionalism.
With a graceful motion, she waved her hand across the clipboard.
Three scrolls materialized in the air above it — no sparkles, no fanfare, just a smooth shimmer of space bending into reality. They floated downward and neatly arranged themselves in a pyramid formation. The topmost scroll was bound by a golden ribbon, while the bottom two bore silver fastenings.
Their appearance was weathered — parchment edges frayed, ink slightly faded — as if they were remnants of an older era, preserved through magic rather than time.
"This is your main class scroll for Summoner," Gazelle explained, picking up the golden-ribboned scroll and handing it to Ezekiel with care. "Tear it down the middle. No need for incantations."
Ezekiel nodded, accepting the scroll with both hands. He briefly admired the aged texture of the parchment — the faint runes were etched in Ancient Enian, the precursor to all modern magical languages. Then, as instructed, he tore it cleanly across the middle.
A sharp ping sounded in his ears.
{Congratulations! You have attained the Class: Summoner!}
{Stat Bonus: +5 Intelligence; +5 Vitality}
{Class Bonus: +5% EXP Gain}
A small smile crossed his face as the glowing text faded. The bonuses were exactly as he remembered — modest at first glance, but deceptively powerful in long-term scaling. Especially that +5 Vitality — a subtle but vital edge for a class usually considered glass-cannon.
Another step forward. Small as it might be, but this was the true beginning to everything.