When I woke, I slowly opened my eyes and spent a few seconds simply staring at the ceiling, trying to gather my thoughts.
One by one, the events of yesterday surfaced in my memory: my humiliating failure during the magic talent assessment, my renunciation of the right to inherit the throne, and my exile, disguised as being sent to the Academy.
Then came the Academy itself, the test at the Faculty of Swordsmen, where it had unexpectedly been revealed that I had been chosen by the gods…
the very same gods everyone believed had long abandoned this world.
After the ritual, I had received the mark of the Goddess of Chaos and begun to change.
The physical changes were obvious.
I no longer had any doubts about that.
But whether the transformation had affected my magic as well, I still could not tell.
And all of it had happened in a single day.
The thought left me uneasy.
It was honestly frightening to imagine how today might end if yesterday had already been that insane.
Still, no matter how I felt, I had no choice.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I rubbed my temples, got out of bed, and headed for the shower.
When I was finally ready, a new problem revealed itself.
My hair.
In this state, wearing it loose was completely inconvenient.
Strands kept falling into my eyes and blocking my vision.
Naturally, I had nothing suitable to tie it back with.
I had not exactly expected it to grow this long overnight.
After a moment’s thought, I turned my gaze toward the clothes I had arrived in.
Taking my old cloak, I tore a strip of fabric from the bottom and awkwardly tied my hair into a ponytail.
A rather primitive solution, certainly, but still better than running around the Academy first thing in the morning searching for a barber.
Once I made sure I had everything I needed, I left the room, locked the door, and headed downstairs.
The first floor was already fairly crowded.
Stufons in all kinds of uniforms and clothing moved everywhere.
Some clearly belonged to the mages, others to the swordsmen.
I did not study the emblems too closely, but I barely noticed any identical ones.
Could it really be that everyone here had their own unique talent?
Apparently, yes.
Stopping a little to the side, I decided to listen in on the conversations around me.
Perhaps I could learn something useful about the upcoming class allocation.
“Did you hear?
They say this year’s allocation is going to be unusual,” one stufon asked the companion standing beside him.
Judging by their clothes, both belonged to the magical wing.
One was a tall, broad-shouldered human with short dark hair.
The other was an elf with long, bright golden hair.
“And what have they come up with this time?” the elf asked irritably.
“The first stage is one-on-one duels.
The second is age and talent verification.
The third is monster hunting,” the human replied, glancing around thoughtfully.
There was my first serious problem.
Age verification posed no threat to me, but talent verification…
Would the stone reflect the fact that I had become the Herald of the Goddess Ges?
Or worse, would it reveal what I truly was now?
A Cursed Swordsman.
The thought alone sent a chill down my spine.
I needed to speak with Ama’Lein as soon as possible.
The other trials were dangerous too, but not enough to make me nervous.
I had no intention of drawing attention to myself anyway.
For now, I was still far too weak.
As I continued listening to the conversations around me, I gradually began to understand how the Academy operated.
If you wanted to attract the attention of major guilds, or possibly even representatives of royal and imperial houses, you needed to place among the top ten.
Perfectly logical.
Far less pleasant was another requirement: descending into the catacombs at least twice before the Red Moon.
The Red Moon was a period when all monsters, from weak undead to liches, became many times stronger and more aggressive.
After the War of the Five Races, parts of the land had been abandoned.
Those places were now inhabited by some of the strongest monsters on the continent.
To keep their numbers under control, guilds regularly sent raids to eliminate the most dangerous specimens.
After standing there for a few more minutes, I noticed the dormitory door open.
A professor stepped inside.
His magical robe immediately made it clear that he belonged to the magical wing.
Clearing his throat loudly, he waited for the conversations to die down before sweeping his gaze across the gathered crowd.
For some reason, his eyes lingered on me.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face for a moment, but he concealed it almost immediately.
Unpleasant.
“I’m glad to see all of you managed to wake up on time and that no one overslept,” he began in a calm but well-projected voice.
“Today, class allocation will take place.
The stronger you and your future class prove to be, the more resources and Academy currency you will receive.
In addition, the best among you will be able to participate in the Tournament of the Six Academies.” Excited whispers immediately spread through the hall.
“The allocation will be conducted in three stages.
First, one-on-one duels.
Mages are allowed to use magic, while swordsmen may use weapons.
The second stage is verification of your actual age.
Yes, we know you have already provided documents, but the Academy prefers to record such data independently.” He paused briefly.
“The third stage is monster hunting.
All who pass the allocation will be teleported to the hunting grounds, where, alone or in groups, you must earn the required number of points over two days.
Any questions?” Several hands rose.
“Professor, will the duels only be between us, or will we have to fight girls too?” a light elf asked, blushing slightly.
Snickers rolled through the hall.
“A foolish question, stufon,” the professor replied coldly.
“You will fight both boys and girls.
The Academy evaluates talent, not gender.” The elf noticeably paled and tried to hide behind the other stufons, but no one was willing to give him space.
“And if we fail the first or third stage?
Will we be assigned to the weakest classes, or expelled?” another voice asked.
Many nodded in agreement.
“You will not be accepted into the Academy if you fail even one stage,” the professor said calmly.
“The Academy charges neither admission fees nor tuition.
Any further questions?” He swept his gaze across the hall, but no new hands were raised.
“Since there are no more questions, follow me.
I will take you to the allocation grounds.” With those words, the professor opened the door and headed away from both the dormitories and the Academy’s main building.
The stufons silently followed him.
Some walked with their heads lowered.
Others muttered nervously under their breath.
The atmosphere was quickly growing more and more tense.
We moved farther and farther away from the Academy buildings, gradually entering deeper into the forest.
With every step, the others grew more nervous.
To my own surprise, however, I remained calm.
After yesterday, it seemed my capacity for shock had already been exhausted.
Or perhaps I simply saw no point in worrying over things that could no longer be changed.
After another fifteen minutes or so, the professor led us into a wide clearing.
There was nothing around.
No people.
No buildings.
Only grass, scattered stones, and a ring of trees.
Confusion immediately spread through the crowd.
Many began looking around, clearly assuming we had either arrived too early or gotten completely lost.
But at that moment, the professor pulled out a wand.
Raising it, he lightly touched the air in front of him with its tip.
Some stufons exchanged glances, clearly beginning to question the instructor’s sanity.
But in the very next second, the air where the wand had struck began to tremble.
At first, barely noticeably.
Then space rippled, warping more and more intensely until the outline of a massive white structure began to materialize directly before us.
It was as though the building were emerging from nowhere.
A subdued gasp spread through the crowd.
As if nothing unusual had happened, the professor walked along the wall toward a wide archway and gestured for us to follow.
We stepped inside.
At first, only muffled voices could be heard.
Female voices.
Male voices.
Dozens of them, blending into a single wave of noise.
When we finally passed beneath the arch, I froze involuntarily.
An enormous arena stretched out before me.
On both sides, the stands were filled with stufons from different years and disciplines.
Mages, swordsmen—it seemed as though half the Academy had gathered here.
All of them were watching us.
An unpleasant feeling settled over me.
I had already had no intention of drawing attention to myself, and now we had practically been displayed before the entire Academy.
Following the professor toward the center of the arena, I noticed a group of four figures.
A human.
Two light elves.
And an elven woman.
I recognized one of them immediately.
Ama’Lein.
The others, however, I was seeing for the first time.
As we approached, the professor respectfully bowed to the representatives of the administration, then turned around and left without another word.
I tensed involuntarily.
It seemed the real trial was only just beginning.
The story continues on Webnovel, where new chapters are released and I actively interact with readers.