Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 77: Unwelcome Presence

Cassian and Luneth froze.

The shift was immediate.

Mana surged through Lindarion's body, flowing perfectly.

Not just reinforcing his limbs—but synchronizing.

Everything became sharper, faster, smoother.

Even his breathing was flawless.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then—

Cassian threw up his hands.

"Okay, screw this."

Luneth said nothing.

But her dadk eyes narrowed slightly.

Not in frustration.

In understanding.

Cassian groaned. "So what you're telling me is that you just naturally circulate mana through your entire body perfectly after, what, one lesson?"

'I can't just say I'm blessed…'

Lindarion tilted his head.

"…Yes."

Cassian let out a long, exhausted breath.

"Unbelievable."

Luneth finally spoke.

"You don't think about it."

Lindarion glanced at her. "What?"

She stared at him.

"The mana," she murmured. "You don't process it. You don't force it. You just… let it happen."

Lindarion shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"

Cassian made a strangled noise.

Luneth remained silent for a moment.

Then—she exhaled.

"…I see."

Lindarion narrowed his eyes slightly.

She wasn't saying it lightly.

She had understood something.

And knowing Luneth?

She was going to figure out how to replicate it.

Cassian, meanwhile, flopped down onto the ground.

"I give up."

Lindarion smirked. "Already?"

Cassian groaned.

"I need food. Or sleep. Or both."

Luneth didn't respond, still standing in quiet thought.

Lindarion watched her for a moment longer.

Then—he relaxed his stance, letting the mana fade.

Tonight had confirmed something.

Cassian struggled.

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Luneth analyzed.

And Lindarion?

He was ahead of them both.

Not just in talent.

But in control.

And control?

Was everything when it came to mana.

—

After practicing for a while Lindarion exhaled, letting his mana settle back into a dormant state.

Even after cycling it through his body at full efficiency, he didn't feel the slightest bit drained. It was natural. Effortless.

Unlike Cassian—who was currently sprawled on the ground, looking half-dead.

Luneth, however, stood in complete silence.

Still thinking. Still processing.

Lindarion watched her carefully.

He could already tell.

She was piecing it together.

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow—but soon.

And when she did?

She would be dangerous.

Lindarion smirked slightly.

'That will be interesting to see.'

But before he could say anything—

A slow clap echoed across the training ground.

Lindarion's amusement immediately faded.

Because he knew that sound.

That mocking, arrogant rhythm.

Cassian groaned. "Oh, for fuck's sake—"

Lindarion turned his head.

And there, standing at the edge of the training field—smirking like he owned the place—

Was Nathaniel Veyre.

Nathaniel strolled toward them, his silver hair catching the moonlight, his smirk annoyingly present.

Two upperclassmen followed behind him, their gazes sharp, watching everything.

Lindarion didn't miss the way the couple students in the background that were there had subtly stepped away.

Nathaniel's presence alone made people uneasy.

Lindarion wasn't one of them though.

He was just annoyed by the entire situation.

'Can I just have one peaceful day please.'

Nathaniel stopped a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Impressive," he mused. "Really, Sunblade. Watching you humiliate your friends with ease? Quite entertaining."

Lindarion's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Did you come here just to waste my time?"

Cassian, still lying on the ground, muttered, "I'd like to second that question."

Nathaniel chuckled.

Luneth, however, didn't even look at him.

She simply stood there. Silent. Calculating.

Lindarion knew that look.

She wasn't ignoring Nathaniel.

She was waiting.

Nathaniel sighed dramatically.

"Must you always be so hostile, Lindarion? I was simply admiring your progress."

Lindarion raised an eyebrow.

"I don't need your admiration."

Nathaniel smirked. "No, but you might need my connections."

Lindarion's fingers twitched. Ah. There it is.

Nathaniel wasn't here to waste time.

He was testing the waters…yet again. It was starting to get annoying at this point.

Probing. Measuring.

Trying to see if Lindarion could be useful to him.

Lindarion sighed.

"Let me guess." His voice was flat. "This is the part where you offer me something I don't want?"

Nathaniel's smirk widened.

"My, my. You wound me."

Lindarion tilted his head slightly.

Nathaniel had power in this academy—not just because of his skill, but because of how he played people.

Manipulation. Connections. Influence.

But now he was just trying.

Trying to see if Lindarion could be pulled into his orbit.

Nathaniel glanced at Cassian—still lying down—and then at Luneth.

His smirk turned slightly sharper.

"Your little group is quite the anomaly."

Lindarion didn't respond.

Because that wasn't a compliment.

That was a statement. A test.

Nathaniel studied Luneth for a moment longer, as if trying to figure her out.

She met his gaze without hesitation.

No fear. No reaction.

Nathaniel grinned.

"You're Interesting."

Then—he turned back to Lindarion.

"I'm simply here to offer an opportunity," he said smoothly.

Cassian groaned. "Oh, here we go."

Lindarion just crossed his arms.

"I'm not interested."

Nathaniel laughed.

"You haven't even heard what I'm offering."

Lindarion's gaze was flat.

"I don't need to."

Nathaniel's smirk didn't fade—but his eyes sharpened.

Just slightly.

A flicker of something beneath the amusement.

A hint of calculation.

Then—he sighed dramatically.

"Well," he mused, "I suppose I'll just have to try again another time. A time when you won't have another choice but to join me."

'Should I just finish him right now?'

Lindarion's fingers twitched as he thought of multiple possibilities of ending him. But the backlash would be way too troublesome for killing a noble, especially here in the academy.

But he knew that Nathaniel wasn't going to give up.

This wasn't a one-time thing.

It was just the beginning.

Nathaniel clapped a hand over his chest.

"Until next time, then."

And just like that—he turned on his heel and walked away.

His upperclassmen followed.

'Just like mutts.'

Lindarion watched him go, his eyes cold.

Cassian sat up with a groan.

"I hate that guy."

Luneth, finally breaking her silence, murmured—

"He'll definitely come back."

Lindarion exhaled, clearly exhausted by the whole thing.

"I know."

Luneth spoke first.

"So, what that was about?"

Her tone was calm, but there was an edge beneath it.

Cassian, still sprawled on the ground, muttered, "Politics. Power. Nathaniel trying to make Lindarion his new best friend. Usual bullshit."

Luneth's violet eyes flickered toward Lindarion.

He held her gaze.

"He wants something," Lindarion said simply. "And he won't stop until he gets it."

Cassian grunted. "Yeah, well, he can take his offer and shove it up—"

Luneth cut him off.

"What does he want from you specifically?"

Lindarion was quiet for a moment.

That was the question, wasn't it?

Nathaniel didn't waste time on people unless he saw value.

Which meant he saw something in Lindarion.

The problem was, Lindarion had no idea what.

But he would find out.

Eventually.

Lindarion turned away.

"I don't care what he wants." His voice was flat. "It doesn't matter."

Luneth studied him for a moment longer.

Then—without another word—she nodded.

Cassian stretched, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Well, that was a fun distraction," he muttered. "But if we're done with the brooding silence, how about we get back to training?"

Lindarion raised an eyebrow.

Cassian smirked.

"What? Just because I suck at Nyx's techniques doesn't mean I'm giving up."

Lindarion smirked slightly.

That was the thing about Cassian. He might be reckless, but he was stubborn.

Luneth crossed her arms.

"Fine." Her voice was dry. "But if you collapse again, I'm leaving you there."

Cassian grinned. "I would expect nothing less."

Lindarion rolled his shoulders.

"Then let's get back to it."

And with that—they resumed.

—

By the time Lindarion walked back to his dorm, the moon was high, casting a pale glow over the academy.

The halls were quieter now, most students already retired for the night.

Lindarion exhaled, his body thrumming with residual energy from the training session.

He was improving.

But it still wasn't enough.

Not yet.

He reached his room, pushing the door open with a flick of his fingers. The moment he stepped inside—shadows stirred.

A faint, chilling presence swept through the air.

And then—she appeared.

A small figure, clad in tattered black wedding attire, her pale hands delicately smoothing over the lace of her veil.

Selene.

She lifted her head, empty eyes peering through the shadows of her veil.

Lindarion met her gaze.

"You're late, Young Master."

Her voice was soft, almost whisper-like, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.

Lindarion sighed. "I was training."

Selene's head tilted slightly.

"You push yourself too much."

Lindarion scoffed. "You know I need to get better."

Selene didn't answer immediately. Instead, she floated closer, her veil barely shifting as if untouched by the air itself.

Then—her lips curled into the faintest trace of amusement.

"Yes, Young Master."

Lindarion sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Selene simply watched him.

"Another pointless day?" she murmured.

Lindarion leaned back slightly. "Not entirely."

He thought back to Nathaniel. To the subtle shift in his gaze.

Something was coming.

And Lindarion had no intention of being unprepared.

Selene was silent for a moment. Then—

"You should rest..it's going to be tough tomorrow again."

Lindarion let out a quiet chuckle.

"Are you going to tuck me in too?"

Selene's veil barely moved, but he could feel the unimpressed stare.

He smirked.