The academy courtyard looked like a festival ground, but instead of celebrating, everyone was getting ready to watch students fight for their lives.
Well, not literally for their lives. But for their reputations, which for most elves was pretty much the same thing.
The First Trial was one of the most important events of the year. It was designed to test everything the academy was supposed to be teaching us: combat skills, magical ability, teamwork, and grace under pressure. All the professors would be watching, along with representatives from the most important noble families in the kingdom.
Basically, it was a chance for students to prove they were worth the money their families spent sending them here. Or to humiliate themselves in front of everyone who mattered.
The courtyard had been transformed into a proper arena for the occasion. Stone bleachers surrounded a large circular fighting area that was covered in white sand. Colorful banners hung from the ancient trees that bordered the space, and magical crystals floated overhead to make sure everyone could see what was happening.
Students filled the bleachers, all wearing their best uniforms and chattering excitedly about who they thought would win and who would fail spectacularly. The air buzzed with nervous energy and the smell of expensive perfumes.
And me? I was standing in the staging area with the other participants, trying not to laugh at how serious everyone was taking this.
Because I could already see Althir and his three friends across the arena, and they were all looking at me with the kind of smug expressions that meant they thought they had some brilliant plan.
"This is it," I heard one of them whisper to the others. "Today we expose him for the fraud he really is. The Pervert Prince is going to trip over his own feet and make a fool of himself in front of the entire academy."
Another one nodded eagerly. "And when he fails, everyone will finally see that beating me was just a fluke. His reputation will be completely destroyed."
Oh, I'd probably trip over something, all right. But they were going to be the ones eating dirt when I was done with them.
---
Professor Lyrian was the instructor in charge of the combat trials. He was an older elf with gray hair, a permanently sour expression, and a voice that could cut glass. He'd never liked me, which wasn't surprising since the previous owner of this body had apparently caused several scandals in his classes.
"Your Highness," he said, looking down his crooked nose at me with obvious distaste. "You will be participating in the group combat trial. Please try not to completely disgrace yourself, your family, and this institution."
The other students nearby turned to stare at us. Some looked excited to see what would happen, others looked like they were expecting me to do something embarrassing right there on the spot.
I decided not to disappoint them.
I gave Professor Lyrian my most dramatic bow, sweeping an imaginary hat off my head and flourishing it like I was performing for royalty.
"Don't worry, Professor," I said in my most sincere voice. "I never disgrace myself. I only disgrace other people. Usually their daughters."
The reaction was immediate and spectacular. Students gasped, a few girls shrieked, and Professor Lyrian's face turned such a deep shade of purple I thought he might have a heart attack.
"You... you..." he sputtered, clearly trying to think of a punishment severe enough for what I'd just said.
"BEGIN THE TRIAL!" he finally shouted, apparently deciding that watching me get beaten up by magical constructs would be punishment enough.
---
The rules of the group combat trial were pretty simple, which was good because I was still learning how magic worked in this world.
Students were divided into teams of four, and each team had to face a series of magical constructs—basically animated stone golems that were controlled by the academy's defensive wards. The golems would attack with increasing difficulty until the team either defeated them all or got beaten so badly they had to surrender.
Teams were graded on how many golems they defeated, how well they worked together, and how much style they showed while doing it. Elves loved their style points.
Of course, Althir had somehow managed to arrange things so that I ended up on his team. His plan was pretty obvious: he'd make sure I looked like an incompetent fool, then use my failure to prove that my victory over him in combat class had been pure luck.
What he didn't know was that I was counting on him to underestimate me.
Our team walked out into the center of the arena while the crowd cheered and booed in roughly equal measure. Most of the cheering was for Althir and his friends. Most of the booing was for me.
The first golem began to rise from the sand in front of us. It was about eight feet tall, made of gray stone that was covered in glowing blue runes. Its eyes burned with magical fire, and when it moved, the ground shook under its massive weight.
"Stay out of the way, pervert," Althir snapped at me, drawing his sword with a dramatic flourish. "We'll handle this properly."
His two friends nodded in agreement and took fighting positions on either side of him. They'd clearly practiced this formation before.
I just shrugged and stepped back, making it look like I was too scared to fight.
The three of them attacked the golem with impressive coordination. Althir went straight for its legs, trying to knock it off balance. One of his friends started casting a fire spell to target the runes on its chest. The third friend circled around to attack from behind.
It was actually pretty well executed. Under normal circumstances, they probably would have won easily.
Unfortunately for them, this wasn't a normal circumstance. The academy had clearly decided to make this trial extra difficult, probably to weed out the weaker students early.
The golem didn't even flinch when their attacks hit. Althir's sword bounced off its stone skin like he was hitting a brick wall. The fire spell just made the runes glow brighter. And when the third friend tried to attack from behind, the golem spun around and backhanded him so hard he flew halfway across the arena.
The crowd started to murmur nervously. This wasn't going the way anyone had expected.
Althir and his remaining friend stumbled backward, both looking shocked and worried. The golem advanced on them, its burning eyes fixed on Althir.
"What's wrong with this thing?" one of his friends shouted. "Our attacks aren't working at all!"
"It must be defective!" Althir replied, though he didn't sound very confident.
The crowd was starting to jeer now, disappointed that the promising young nobles were having so much trouble with what should have been a simple challenge.
And me? I was just standing there, yawning like I was bored.
Which, to be honest, I kind of was.
---
"All right," I said, finally stepping forward with a big stretch. "I guess it's my turn now."
"Don't you dare—!" Althir started to shout, probably worried that I was about to make their team look even worse.
But it was too late. I was already moving.
I raised my hand and started gathering magical energy, just like I'd seen other students do. The crowd immediately started laughing, because everyone knew that the Pervert Prince was supposed to be terrible at magic.
"He can't even cast a basic spell!"
"This is going to be hilarious!"
"Someone get ready to heal him when that golem crushes him!"
But instead of casting a normal attack spell like they expected, I did something completely different.
I whispered an incantation under my breath and twisted the magical energy into something nobody would ever expect from me: an illusion spell.
Suddenly, dozens of beautiful, naked elf women appeared around the golem, all of them giggling and posing seductively.
The reaction was immediate and absolutely chaotic.
The crowd screamed in shock and outrage. Half the students covered their eyes, the other half stared in fascination. The professors started shouting and waving their hands, trying to figure out what was happening.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE WORLD TREE—" Professor Lyrian bellowed.
But the most important reaction came from the golem itself.
The magical construct had been designed to fight against normal combat spells and sword attacks. Nobody had ever thought to program it to deal with perverted illusions. Its primitive detection wards started glitching as they tried to process what they were seeing.
The golem staggered backward, its glowing runes flickering and sparking like a broken machine. It turned its head back and forth, clearly confused about which of the illusions it was supposed to attack.
"Now!" I muttered to myself.
While the golem was distracted, I sprinted forward and leaped into the air. With one swift strike, I drove my fist directly into the magical core that was glowing in the center of its chest.
The core shattered like glass.
The golem collapsed into a pile of rubble, its magic completely gone.
The illusions disappeared.
The arena went completely silent.
You could have heard a feather fall on the sand.
Then, all at once, everyone started talking at once.
"Did he just—?"
"With perverted magic?!"
"That actually worked?!"
"I can't believe what I just saw!"
"Is that even legal?!"
I turned to face the crowd, brushing dust off my uniform and grinning from ear to ear.
"See?" I announced loudly. "Even magical constructs can't resist a little temptation. I guess I'm just irresistible."
The crowd's reaction was swift and violent. Shoes, books, pieces of fruit, and probably a few curses came flying in my direction. I dodged most of them while laughing.
But I noticed something important in the way people were looking at me now. The laughter had a nervous edge to it. The anger seemed mixed with confusion.
For the first time, some of them were actually taking me seriously.
I gave the crowd my most dramatic bow, spreading my arms wide like an actor at the end of a play.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and perverts of all ages," I declared, "your hero has arrived!"
More projectiles flew in my direction, but I was too busy enjoying myself to care.
---
High up in the professors' viewing gallery, hidden behind magical privacy wards, a figure in a dark hooded cloak was watching the scene with intense interest.
This was Master Valdris, the King's personal spymaster and one of the most dangerous elves in the kingdom. Very few people even knew he existed, and those who did were usually too terrified to talk about him.
He had come to the academy today on the King's orders, to observe the Third Prince and report back on whether the rumors about his recent behavior were true.
What he had just witnessed was far more interesting than anyone had expected.
"The prophecy," he whispered to himself, his eyes never leaving the perverted prince who was still dodging thrown objects in the arena below. "Could it truly be him?"
He made a mental note to increase surveillance on the Third Prince immediately.
If the prophecy was beginning to come true, then the kingdom was about to become a very dangerous place.