As much as he'd prepared, Zane knew that there was no telling how he'd react once he was actually in the Arena. He didn't think he'd panic, or forget his training, but it was always there, as a possibility, no matter how unlikely. In the back of his head, he knew there was a chance that he'd embarrass himself, his escort, mentors, district... everyone. The guy from Six, that caught his attention. It was meant to, he was sure. Some kind of statement, but that statement ended with the guy dead. It wasn't a very good one.
It was almost a relief when, once the count was finished, he snapped into focus and vaulted off his pedestal without even a thought, landing in a crouch and then taking off in an easy lope for the Cornucopia. Didn't want to exhaust himself before he even got to the fighting, after all, before he even got his hands on a weapon. That might mean that someone else would get to his weapon of choice before him, but no one (aside from his former careers) was going to be able to actually use a sword worth a damn, unless they had a reincarnate who knew how.
Focus. Don't worry about that yet. Even if their reincarnate knew it, they wouldn't have the muscle memory that Zane did for it. Money on them not having a backup skill, either, not many as mixed magic and melee fighting, after all. Focus. Breathe. Get to the Cornucopia. Kill anyone in the way. Easy as that.
Some scrawny kid was going after the light sword he wanted, when he got there. Zane thought he was from Seven, maybe. Not a career, or from Twelve, or a Morgan. Not relevant to him. "That's mine," Zane told him, calmly, conversationally. The kid turned, all wide eyes and panic, muttering something under his breath. Zane could feel the power gather, realized the kid was casting a spell instead of relying on the weapon he was trying to claim.
A shield was second nature, and a return volley of magic. Wasn't much point in drawing it out, not at the Cornucopia, so Zane played with him just long enough to get his hands on the sword, deciding he wanted to make the kill with steel instead of spell. Kid, whoever he was, didn't have much chance against both at once.
Zane wiped the blood from his blade on the kid's uniform, then slung the belt around his waist and sheathed it. Oh, yeah, that was much better. Now, needed to figure out what else he could pack up that might be useful. With a kill already on his tally, and a sword at his side, he felt even better about his chances with the next tribute he came up against.