Reincarnated as an Elf Prince

The world did not crack. It did not break.

It simply shifted.

Lindarion did not wield his power as an attack, nor did he unleash it in a reckless wave. That would have been an insult to what he was.

"Die."

He commanded.

Darkness bled into the space where the creature stood, threading through the air like ink dissolving in water, slow at first—too slow, as if testing the shape of reality itself.

The thing that should not exist trembled, its grotesque form reacting not in fear, not in pain, but in something far worse—recognition.

It completely understood its fate.

But knowing the inevitable did not mean it could resist it.

'It's time to end this.'

Lindarion tightened his grip on the parchment in his hand, the unbroken seal pressing into his palm as his magic expanded—not in tendrils, not in forceful grasping, but in an inevitability.

It did not matter what this thing was. It did not matter how it had come to be.

Because it had never belonged here in the first place.

And so, like an error in a carefully written text, like a contradiction in the laws of existence itself—

He erased it.

"Begone, filth."

Lindarion's voice echoed as the creature creature convulsed violently, its stretched limbs attempting to reassert themselves in a space that no longer recognized them.

The air around it wavered, not from heat, not from force, but from the sheer impossibility of what was happening.

It did not fade.

It did not die.

It simply ceased to be.

A void opened where it had stood, not in the ground, not in space, but in the fragile, twisting logic of this place. And then, in the next breath—

It was gone.

The silence that followed was not the same as before. It was not the oppressive quiet of something waiting, lurking at the edges of perception. It was something deeper.

'It's over.'

Lindarion lowered his hand. His magic withdrew, curling back into him like an exhaled breath. The pressure eased.

[New Darkness Summon Unlocked!]

[Host Can Now Summon - Entity]

[Mana Pool Increased.]

[Rewards]

+2 Strength

+2 Intelligence

+5 Endurance

'Guess he wasn't that big of a threat according to the system. And another summon huh…I haven't even used the necromancer yet either.'

He shook his head as he noticed that something remained.

Where the creature had been, something sat on the ground, untouched by the erasure. Small, unassuming—almost insultingly mundane compared to what had just happened.

A fragment.

No, a core.

Lindarion stepped forward and crouched, fingers hovering over it for a moment before picking it up. It was cool to the touch, smooth like polished stone, yet something beneath the surface shifted, like a liquid trapped in a solid form.

Luneth, still catching her breath, wiped the blood from her lips and frowned. "What is that…? And how did you even kill it?"

Her question lingered in the air as Lindarion did not answer at all.

Cassian's hands were still clenched into fists, his crystalline sword trembling slightly from the force he had poured into it moments ago.

He exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and lingering adrenaline, however seeing that he didn't reply to Luneth, Cassian didn't bother asking Lindarion how he killed the thing.

"Is it some kind of alchemical remnant?"

Lindarion didn't answer immediately. He turned the core in his palm, watching the way it reflected the dim, warped light of the city around them.

It was unlike any magic he had seen before—not entirely an object, not entirely a concept.

A piece of something that should not have been.

"We'll figure that out later," he said at last, tucking it carefully into the inner pocket of his coat. "For now, we're leaving."

Luneth glanced back at the path behind them—the distorted streets, the buildings that were too perfect in their imperfection. "The way we came?"

"The way we came," Lindarion confirmed.

Cassian muttered something under his breath, but he didn't argue. He just tightened his grip on his sword and turned, retracing their steps with the kind of sharp, controlled movements that spoke of a person who really wanted to be anywhere else right now.

Luneth fell into step beside them, still watchful, still poised for a fight that no longer existed.

And as they walked, as the strange, unnatural city stretched around them, the weight of unseen eyes did not follow.

The figures beyond the edge of perception had not moved.

Because there was no need to.

Their presence had already served its purpose.

This place had no interest in those who could leave.

Only those who could not.

—

The journey back was not long. But it was not short either.

The city did not resist them. It did not shift, did not twist itself into contradictions like before. It simply remained—watchful, indifferent, allowing them to leave.

The figures that had lurked at the edges of their awareness did not follow.

Because there was no need to.

Lindarion walked ahead, the core pressing against his coat with every step, its presence an almost imperceptible weight.

Luneth moved beside him, silent but alert, every movement measured, her posture balanced between exhaustion and readiness.

Cassian, trailing slightly behind, exhaled through his nose, a sharp, controlled sound.

None of them spoke.

It was not caution that kept them quiet. Not entirely.

It was thought.

The silence between them was filled with unspoken calculations, memories of moments that shouldn't have existed, a lingering awareness of the thing Lindarion had erased.

No, not erased.

Corrected.

And that alone was troubling.

—

When the warped city finally gave way and they arrived above the water, the unnatural streets faded and the air around them shifted—not physically, not visibly, but in a way that could be felt—they did not stop moving.

They stepped through, finally arriving on the surface again.

And suddenly, the world was as it should be.

The weight in the air was gone. The silence was merely silence. The streets were normal—aged stone, cracked pavement, the soft flicker of lantern light in the distance. The sky overhead was dark, but not oppressive.

Lindarion exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted his coat. It was done.

Cassian let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "I am never doing that again."

Luneth raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "You say that now."

Cassian shot her a flat look, then turned toward Lindarion. "So? What now?"

Lindarion didn't answer immediately. He reached into his coat, fingers brushing against the core—smooth, solid, yet shifting. A piece of something wrong, something unnatural.

Something valuable.

"…We go to Lady Valciel."

Neither Luneth nor Cassian argued.

They were already moving.

—

The manor stood as it always had.

A quiet, unmoving presence against the backdrop of the city. The air around it was different, not in the way of the warped streets they had left behind, but in a way that was more deliberate.

Layered protections. Wards woven so tightly they were felt before they were seen.

Lady Valciel had been waiting for them.

The doors opened before they could knock.

The entrance hall was dimly lit, the heavy scent of parchment and old ink lingering in the air. The soft crackle of magic drifted through the space—not oppressive, not overwhelming, but a reminder. A warning.

And at the far end of the hall, beyond the elegant staircases and the towering shelves of books, a figure waited.

Seated in a high-backed chair, one leg crossed over the other, her long, gloved fingers resting lightly against the armrest—Lady Valciel watched them approach.

Her gaze was unreadable. Piercing.

As if she already knew.

Lindarion stopped a few steps away, reaching into his coat, fingers curling around the object they had taken from the ruins of that place.

He did not speak immediately.

Because he knew that she would.

And she did.

"You brought something back."

It was not a question.

Her eyes, a sharp and calculating silver, flicked to the core in his hand.

Lindarion held it up slightly, letting the dim candlelight flicker across its strange, shifting surface. "Tell me what it is."

Lady Valciel's lips curved—not a smile.

Something sharper.

Something knowing.

"Oh," she said, her voice as smooth as glass, as precise as a blade.

Lady Valciel did not reach for the core.

She did not even move.

She simply studied it—the slow shift of its surface, the way it pulsed, faint and uneven, as if still clinging to something long gone.

"…It has not fully faded."

Lindarion didn't ask what she meant. He could feel it.

Even now, in his hand, it felt aware.

Not alive, not in the way a person or a creature might be, but aware—like a remnant of something that should not have been torn away.

Cassian shifted uncomfortably. "If you have answers, now would be a great time to share them."

Lady Valciel tilted her head slightly, gaze flicking to him. "Impatient, are we?"

Cassian exhaled through his nose. "We just risked our lives dealing with whatever the hell that was. If you already knew what we were walking into, then I think we deserve to know why."

Luneth didn't say anything, but her sharp eyes never left Valciel.

'He's right.'

Lindarion remained silent.

Because Cassian wasn't wrong.

Lady Valciel watched them for a moment longer, then finally, finally, she stood.

The candlelight flickered against the deep violet of her robes as she stepped forward, her gloved hand extending toward the core—but not touching it.

"Do you know why that place exists?"

Lindarion's grip on the core tightened slightly.

She already knew the answer.

She was waiting for them to say it.

"…It wasn't a ruin." His voice was quiet, but firm. "It wasn't something left behind."

Lady Valciel's lips curved slightly. "No. It wasn't."

Cassian inhaled sharply. Luneth's fingers twitched, just barely.

Lindarion continued.

"That city never fell." His gaze met hers, sharp and unwavering. "It was erased."

A beat of silence.

Lady Valciel smiled.

"Very good."

The weight of her words settled over them, heavy with meaning.

Lindarion's thoughts moved quickly, piecing together fragments of what they had seen, what they had fought, what had waited for them in that place.

Not ruins. Not remnants.

A prison.

Cassian exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "So you sent us into a place that shouldn't exist, knowing that it was—what? Some kind of… failed experiment? A mistake?"

Lady Valciel finally touched the core.

Not with her hands.

With her magic.

A thin aura of silver mana drifted from her fingertips, surrounding he object in Lindarion's grasp. The moment it made contact, the core shuddered.

A ripple, faint but wrong, pulsed through the air.

Cassian tensed.

Luneth's fingers curled toward her daggers.

But Lady Valciel only watched.

And then, quietly, she said, "It was neither of those things."

The ripple in the air faded. The core's shifting surface stilled.

Her silver eyes gleamed.

"It was a blueprint."

'I get it.'

Lindarion's pulse did not quicken. His breath did not change.

But he understood.

Cassian swore.

Luneth's jaw tightened. "A blueprint… for what?"

Lady Valciel withdrew her magic, letting the silence stretch before she answered.

"…For something that was never meant to be made."

She turned away, stepping back toward her desk. The air around her was heavy, but not with magic.

With knowledge.

With intent.

Lindarion exhaled slowly. "Then why did you send us?"

Lady Valciel reached for a stack of parchment, sifting through them with measured precision.

And then, without looking up—

"Because you are the only ones who returned."

The words settled, cold and sharp, between them.

Lindarion's fingers curled around the core.

Cassian's expression darkened.

Luneth closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again.

Then, quietly, with a calmness that felt like a blade pressed against the skin Lady Valciel continued.

"You did well."

She gestured toward the core.

"And now, I will take that."

Lindarion hesitated.

Not because he wanted to keep it.

But because he wanted to know.

This thing—this piece of something that should not exist—he had taken it from the wreckage of something that had been undone.

And yet, it had survived.

Why?

What was it really?

Cassian exhaled through his nose. "Give it to her, Lindarion."

Luneth did not speak, but her gaze flicked to his hand, then to Valciel.

'Right, this doesn't belong to me.'

Lindarion finally moved.

He stepped forward, extending the core.

Lady Valciel took it.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—

A pulse.

Faint, but undeniable.

The core trembled in her grasp.

Lady Valciel only smiled.

And in a voice that sent a whisper of something cold down Lindarion's spine—

She said, "It's awake."

None of them moved.

The pulse had been brief—barely more than a flicker in the air—but it had been felt.

Cassian inhaled slowly. "That's… normal, right?"

Lady Valciel turned the core in her hands, studying it like an artisan admiring a rare gemstone. Her lips curved slightly. "It is expected."

Cassian did not look reassured.

Luneth's fingers twitched toward her belt. "Expected how?"

Lady Valciel finally looked up. "The remnants of a collapsed construct do not simply vanish. Even the most thoroughly erased things leave traces."

Her fingers curled slightly, and the core dimmed, its pulse fading into something more subdued. "This is one such trace."

Lindarion watched her, silent.

He did not need to ask if she had known this would happen.

The answer was obvious.

"…Then what now?" he asked instead.

Lady Valciel tilted her head, as if considering. Then, smoothly, she set the core atop a carved pedestal on her desk, its surface inscribed with faintly glowing runes.

"The three of you have done what I asked." She folded her hands behind her back, her expression unreadable.

"You have seen what was meant to be forgotten. You have retrieved what should not have remained. And, most importantly—"

Her gaze swept over them, sharp as a dagger's edge.

"—you have returned."

Lindarion did not react.

Luneth's grip on her belt remained tense.

Cassian shifted slightly, exhaling through his nose. "My lady, you're making it sound like that wasn't supposed to happen."

Lady Valciel smiled faintly. "On the contrary."

She turned away, gesturing toward the core. "The task I gave you was dangerous, yes. But not completely impossible."

Her eyes gleamed.

"And you have proven that."

Cassian did not look convinced.

Luneth's fingers tapped once against her belt. "If that's the case, then what do you need this for?"

Lady Valciel's smile did not fade.

Instead, she simply said—"To prepare."

None of them spoke.

Because they all understood what she didn't say.

Prepare for what?

Prepare for who?

'There are way too many questions..she's far too mysterious.'

The weight of her words lingered in the air, pressing down like an unseen force.

Then, finally, Lady Valciel turned back to them.

"The three of you have spent enough time outside the academy. You have done your part."

A single flick of her fingers.

The runes beneath them ignited.

Cassian barely had time to swear.

Luneth's hand shot toward her dagger.

Lindarion did not move.

Because he already knew—

The magic wrapped around them, a twisting pulse of light and shadow, folding the world inward.

And then—

The chamber was gone.