The jungle air was heavy with moist earth and the acrid smell of animals. Caelan held his breath, slow and steady, with every inhalation having the taste of the metallic tang of mana. A leaf rustled above him as if the very forest suspended itself in waiting. A scream cut through the air somewhere far away, accompanied by the sound of wet crunching. Another applicant eliminated.
Caelan wiped his hands down his pants, not because he was anxious—no, third princes weren't anxious—but because sweat was dripping in such quantities that his hold was slippery.
'Brilliant. Stranded in a jungle full of blood-sucking creatures, hemmed in on all sides by condescending nobles and starving peasants, and I didn't even receive a complimentary survival pack.'
His eyes scanned the darkness. Water churned weakly at his fingers, glinting in the patchy light. The jungle was filled with sounds—distant screams, rasping roars, and the occasional crash of someone casting a spell. The battle royale was on, and every heartbeat counted.
A low growl snapped him out of his reverie. The bushes in front of him moved, and something that looked like what would result if a wolf were put in a cage with a crocodile appeared. Its scaly form shone, and its jaws clamped down on too large teeth for its head.
Caelan's stance was perfect, shoulders squared, expression serene. But in his mind, his brain yelled:
'Why must it always be wolves? Every other fantasy state has wolves. Can't I have a rabbit for a change?'
The creature lunged. Caelan lifted his hand, mana streaming swift and precise. A shaft of water burst forth, curling in mid-air into a spear. It crashed into the wolf-beast's throat, wrenching its head back. The creature flailed, but Caelan moved in with icy economy, shaping water along his arm like a sword. One cut—swift, effective—rent its throat.
Blood had steamed against the ground.
[ Elimination confirmed. Candidate Caelan Crowndread +1 point ]
A faint shimmer above him updated the leaderboard. 97th place. Still pathetic.
Caelan dried the blade of water off, allowing it to drip into thin air. He leaned his head against the canopy, face regal, voice serene. "One down."
'A thousand more to go before I can even start to think about getting through this nightmare.'
---
Hours blended in sweat and shouts. Caelan struggled and went, struggled and went, each step cutting his way through the woods. Some contestants attacked him like rats in a corner, scrambling for points. Extras—he took them down with precision, water cutting, body moving as if he had practiced years in the jungle rather than royal marble corridors.
[ Elimination confirmed. Candidate +2 points ]
[ Elimination confirmed. Candidate +3 points ]
His rank increased. 60th. 52nd. 49th. His body ached, but with each fight, his rhythm improved. He didn't waste mana on flashy moves; he used water efficiently, shields snapping into place at the right angle, blades only lasting long enough to cut through flesh, spears curving in the air to hit weak spots.
And all the while, his eyes blazed with something otherworldly.
{Enhanced Comprehension}
The world slowed whenever he called upon it, lines of motion tracing themselves across his field of view. Each twitch of an opponent's shoulder, every flicker in their stance, his mind unspooled and foresaw. He saw paths before they occurred. He parried before they landed.
But the cost came sharp.
The more he used it, the more furiously his temples thudded. Blood once leaked from his nose, hot and coppery. His eyes blurred. His skull pounded as if nails were being driven into the back of his brain.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, placing one hand against his nose for a moment before wiping it off and standing upright. Outside? Calm. Composed. Like a prince surveying his kingdom.
'Inside? Alright. I'm scrambling my own brain like eggs. If I faint here, I'll be mulch for the jungle at sunrise.'
He pushed his spine yet another step forward, reassembling the mask of dignity, as his knees quivered slightly.
---
The trees parted momentarily, revealing a clearing strewn with bodies. Most were not human—there were scaled beasts, and feathered abominations scattered about like discarded toys—but a few were clearly candidates, their bodies cooling in the grass.
On the other side of the clearing, three were battling a massive beast. The beast's hide glimmered like iron, its claws tearing deep grooves in the ground. It growled, making the canopy shudder. A {D+ rank jungle guardian}.
Caelan's jaw was set. He could leave. Conservation of energy was the wise thing to do. But the leaderboard throbbed over the field for everyone to see, and this was his chance.
His decision was made in a breath. He stepped forward, calm and regal.
Need a hand?" he shouted, his tone restrained, an undertone of authority present in his voice.
The first to look back was a lanky youth with black hair tied up into a sloppy knot—relaxed even in the heat of battle, his smile broad and nearly slack.
"At last! Thought you aristos would sit back and let us get sliced up. By all means, Your Highness, go ahead and lead. I'll be cheering."
Caelan dismissed the insult, though he snorted inwardly.
'Fantastic. I get partnered with the comic relief character.'
The other two were a little more civil. The Duke's son sneered, refined face contorted in distaste. "Move aside if you want to keep your skin, Crowndread."
The commoner girl—alert, quick-witted—said nothing, but her suspicious look said plenty. She obviously assumed he would buckle the moment things started getting violent.
Caelan's mask did not change. "Then I'll just have to prove otherwise.".
The battle was chaos.
The monster slashed with one claw, ripping a gash across the dirt. Caelan's water solidified in mid-air into a shield, the claw hitting it and skidding away with a shriek. The shock shook through his bones, but he didn't falter. He was a force to be reckoned with, water spears snapping into existence, plunging into the monster's joints.
The commoner girl charged low, her daggers glinting. The Duke's son threw fire in wide sweeps. And the goofy boy? He whistled a song and cut wildly, always striking weak points as if it were a game.
Good enough for a prince," the boy exclaimed in delight. "You're swinging like you're leading an orchestra!
'Yes, and you strike like a clown with plot armor', Caelan thought, dodging another slash. Aloud, he merely said, "Stay focused."
The battle dragged on, the D+ monster not budging. Caelan forced Enhanced Comprehension once more, pushing his mind to decipher its attacks. His eyes were a blur, blood flowing freely from his nose now. His skull bellowed in agony, each forecast ripping deeper into his mind. But he danced perfectly, striking where its defenses weakened, leading the others' attacks without a word.
Then his water spear impaled the beast's eye. The girl's daggers, the Duke's flames, and the goofy boy's slash tore its throat wide open. The creature fell, the ground shaking from its impact.
Silence for a moment.
Then the leaderboard shimmered above. Caelan's name climbed.
[ 10th Place: Caelan Crowndread ]
His heaving chest moved up and down, smooth face unwavering, but his insides churned.
'Top ten. Somehow, despite all this, I actually managed it.'