After such an unexpected spectacle from the brightest diamond in the rough, everyone forgot that there was one more student who hadn't tried his luck yet.
Even Hal momentarily forgot that it was his turn next.
"Hal Fennec!" exclaimed the deputy-headmaster's assistant, rousing everyone from their envious thoughts.
Hal, like everyone else, was jolted awake, quickly heading towards the Arcane Repository the next instant despite his lingering bewilderment.
Only a select few recognized Hal, mostly those who took the affinity test from the same city as him.
It wasn't too widespread that his mana affinity was 1% at this point.
However, things were bound to change soon.
It was fairly normal for people to think that the one next to the luckiest individual in the room, Ennya in this case, could only be unlucky, since the one before him had probably used up all the luck in the area with such a mind-boggling draw.
No one believed Hal would get anything close to what Ennya got.
His reputation as "the low affinity trash" was also slowly spreading throughout the venue.
There was just no way someone like Hal would obtain an artifact equal to the ones acquired by the young aristocrats and the other diamonds in the rough, let alone one remotely close to the blazing core of an ancient spirit-deity.
With a deep breath, Hal stuck his hand into the repository, sighing in relief upon grabbing hold of something.
It would've simply shattered his psyche if he turned out to be the next artifact-less student, especially after his closest childhood friend got the artifact of eons.
Pulling his hand out, Hal's artifact turned out to be a small, black box with hints of red and a single button in the middle.
A majority frowned at the sight.
Most of them inwardly wished for the trash to obtain nothing, as that would cement his position at the very bottom of the hierarchy, and the entire batch of apprentices would have a bona fide laughingstock.
Korren and the others from Poporo Village were equally disappointed.
The fact that strangely, the artifact in Hal's hands didn't immediately explain itself only added to everyone's displeasure.
They wanted to know what the box's effect was as soon as possible.
But no, the box didn't explain itself.
Hal turned to look at the assistant for guidance, but the faculty member was just as clueless, so Hal simply followed his instincts and pressed the small button at the center of the box.
The next moment, the box's cover suddenly popped open, and a small clown made of fabric and cotton fillings jumped onto his face, slightly startling him. This was followed by the expected mana-woven words of explanation:
"Clown Box: Can be used to decorate one's room and subtly avenge oneself against meddlesome hands and overly curious minds."
Hal blinked one time before despair slowly crept in.
He got a…room decoration?
His last hope turned out to be a darned, useless Clown Box?
Hal's eyes slowly turned hollow as his dreams of bringing his beloved mother to the safety of the cities were ruthlessly destroyed right before him, and the arcane, which was supposed to grant him a path to a better life, somehow chose to take part in dragging him into the abyss instead.
This time, the students finally couldn't resist and burst out laughing, and even the marshals, who had heard about Hal being a low mana-affinity trash, failed to suppress their chuckles.
It was hard to favor someone who seemed to be there just to freeload and eat a few undeserved meals from the academy's canteen.
Such guys were fairly common, and it was somewhat satisfying to witness one of them getting wrecked by the arcane itself, except they didn't know Hal wasn't that kind of individual.
But none of them cared.
People only believed what they wanted to, and the idea of Hal being punished, with a backstory that fit the mold of a freeloader, was exactly what made their ears and brains tingle with delight.
Hal Fennec, the low-mana laughingstock, deserved everything he got as far as they were concerned.
Those with below-average artifacts couldn't help but appreciate their little stroke of fortune.
At least they didn't receive a damned Clown Box like Hal.
Meanwhile, the clown in question was already descending the stairs with a devastated, lost look, his former friends watching him with endless glee.
Their parents had always compared them to Hal in the past, making them feel inferior.
Compare them again now, then!
…With Hal's rather spectacular draw, the gifting ceremony came to an end, and each student was instructed to follow their dormitory's marshals.
This came after the assistant of the deputy master categorized each student from one to five stars—one being the lowest tier, receiving only ten academy credits per month, while five-star students would receive a hundred.
Out of thousands, fewer than a hundred were one-star students, and even giving Hal that status seemed too generous.
If there had been a half-star rank, that's probably where he would've belonged, with his one percent mana affinity and Clown Box.
Utterly defeated and weary, Hal simply followed at the end of the line.
His once-bright disposition, relentless nature, and unshakable confidence had been ruthlessly shattered into a million pieces by the gods themselves.
They didn't even give him the slightest chance to shine.
The poor young man couldn't help but look back on everything he had done as he walked, questioning what he had done wrong for fate to toy with him this way.
There were a few times when he had been too forceful, but nothing that warranted such a ruthless destiny.
He had even done far more good than bad.
So…
'Why?' he wondered in utter heartbreak, as a single tear slipped from the corner of his eye and streamed down his cheek.
Unbeknownst to Hal, it wasn't that all the gods had abandoned him.
It was just that one had laid claim to him a long, long time ago, preventing the others from ever making their bids or offering their blessings.
Only, that god happened to be a bit of a prankster, and while Hal's true gift from the arcane was one only he was allowed to see, it was placed just behind his head, somewhere impossible for his own eyes to reach.
It was a vivid holographic screen with the subtle background of an eerie clown mask that read:
[Close your eyes and dry your tears, child. The Primordial Chaos smiles upon you.]
[You have acquired the Joker System from the Arcane Repository.]
[Initializing… 96%]
…
[Initializing… 97%]
…