Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 102: Invasion (2)

A fourth figure pulled itself from the glowing wound in the ground.

Then a fifth.

Then two more.

And none of them looked like they were in a hurry. That was what made it worse.

They weren't charging. Weren't sprinting. They just walked.

Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.

Like they already owned the place.

Like there was no one left worth rushing for.

Lindarion counted eight of them.

Eight shapes, plated in armor not forged from any metal he recognized. Not elegant or enchanted.

Crude. Dark. Burnt around the edges like they'd clawed their way out of some forge that didn't believe in rest.

"Still not a training exercise," he said flatly.

Jack took a step forward, hand hovering near his belt. "Where are the professors?"

"Probably figuring out what just tore through the foundations," Vivienne said, trying and failing to keep the edge out of her voice.

Valen exhaled slowly. "We should evacuate. Courtyard's the safest open zone."

Cassian nodded quickly. "Yeah. Yeah. That sounds smart. Open spaces. No ceilings to fall on us. Love that. Big fan of not dying."

"No one said anything about dying," Elara snapped.

Cassian pointed at the rupture. "They did."

The courtyard was already filling with other students now—hundreds of them, crowding into the open lawn with wide eyes and shaking hands.

No formation. No order. Just a mass of confusion and youth dressed in uniforms that definitely weren't made for dying.

Mana flickered everywhere—clumsy barriers, half-formed shields, glowing runes of sorts and sparking attacks failing midair.

It was like watching a play fall apart mid-scene.

'This is ridiculous…'

Lindarion's steps were steady as he moved into the open.

His classmates followed. Not because he said anything—but because everyone else had stopped thinking and started watching.

And in the absence of certainty, people watched the ones who didn't flinch.

"You're calm," Vivienne muttered beside him.

"I'm angry," he said. "I just don't show it like Jack."

"I heard that," Jack said from behind him.

"Good."

A sharp boom echoed from the western gate. A blast of mana. Green-white and unfocused. One of the older students had tried to strike the advancing invaders.

Tried.

The blast connected—barely—but the nearest armored figure didn't stop.

It just turned its head.

Then raised its arm.

And the student vanished, leaving a bloody splatter behind.

No explosion. No scream.

Just gone with a red pool.

The space where they stood folded in on itself, like reality hiccuped.

The courtyard erupted.

Screams, panicked mana discharges, students fleeing in all directions.

It was chaos now.

A full stampede.

"Move!" Lindarion said.

"Where?" Rowan barked. "There's nowhere left to—"

"There!" Lindarion pointed to the eastern side of the yard—toward the shielded staircases leading into the northern tower.

"Reinforced structure. Tight bottleneck. They can't outmaneuver us in there."

Jack didn't argue.

That alone meant something was wrong.

Valen led the charge, slicing wind through the crowd to clear a path. Nikolai pulled two second-years out of the way as Elara shouted orders that nobody listened to, but at least sounded confident.

Cassian turned and lobbed a crystal burst behind them—just enough to knock over a statue and block the main path.

Not a defense.

A delay.

They reached the base of the tower stairs.

Mana cracked overhead.

Lindarion turned.

One of the armored figures had broken off from the others. It wasn't chasing the crowd.

It was walking toward him.

Jack swore under his breath. "What did you do?"

"I can't catch a fucking break," Lindarion said, his mouth twitching.

The figure raised its hand.

For a moment, the air distorted.

Pressure built—too fast, too sharp.

Vivienne moved instinctively—mana flaring, fire searing into shape at her palm—

And then—

BOOM.

The air tore open between them and the attacker.

A streak of golden light slammed into the figure's chest and knocked it backward twenty feet—right into one of the stone walls, which cracked on impact.

Dust exploded outward.

And there, landing with absurd composure, came Cael'arion.

Still upright.

Still calm.

His blade drawn—not glowing, not flashy.

Just ready.

"I was halfway through lap twelve!" he said.

"Do you require assistance, Prince?"

Lindarion blinked once.

Then sighed.

"What a heroic entrance," he muttered. "Yes I do."

Cael'arion smiled faintly. "Then I shall help the prince!"

—

A low screech tore through the air—like steel dragged across a fault line as more and more figures kept emerging.

The downed figure, the one Cael'arion had struck, rose slowly. Its armor smoked at the edges, but its head tilted with mechanical calm, gaze zeroed in on one target.

Lindarion.

'They're definitely not here for the school.'

Another of the armored invaders turned to face him.

Then another figure rose.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

All breaking formation.

All heading straight for him.

Cael'arion moved to intercept, but Lindarion raised a hand. "Cover the others."

"But—"

"I said cover them!"

There was no time to argue.

[Phantom Step]

The world blurred.

Lindarion vanished from the spot, reappearing ten meters forward, dust curling where his boots landed.

The nearest invader lunged.

He raised a hand.

[Mana Thread Manipulation]

Thin golden lines erupted from his palm, threading through the air like spider-silk.

They wrapped around the attacker's arm.

Twisted.

Pulled.

The limb ripped backward with a crack of sundered metal—but the creature didn't scream.

It didn't even stop.

Another advanced.

'The hell?'

Lindarion's core thrummed. Mana coiled at his fingertips.

[Mana Shot]

The bolt struck the creature square in the helm, snapping its head sideways. But again—no blood. No falter.

"They're not alive," he muttered.

Vivienne was shouting behind him, dragging second-years back toward the stairs.

Cael'arion held the flank, blade singing with every parry.

Lindarion's mind moved faster than his feet.

'These things don't bleed. They don't tire. They only seem to follow orders.'

Orders that targeted him.

He narrowed his eyes.

'Then who gave the order?'

A third figure lunged.

Lindarion surged forward, a blur of movement and strikes. Each blow left an afterimage. Each afterimage left dents in armor.

He ducked a counter-swing—rolled beneath another—and struck a palm flat against the creature's chest.

[Pure Mana Shield]

The blast was point-blank.

The invader was launched across the field, slamming into the stairwell's pillar hard enough to splinter stone.

The fourth creature didn't hesitate.

It raised a hand.

The air warped.

And Lindarion's knees buckled as gravity itself turned inside out.

Reality pulsed around him like a wounded thing.

[King's Command]

His voice rang out like a bell—clear and absolute.

"Fall."

The invader staggered.

Then dropped.

Kneeling.

Not dead.

But paused.

Bound.

The others twitched—like something resisting the order had clawed at their cores.

Blood began to drip from Lindarion's nose.

He didn't wipe it away.

Didn't blink.

'Where the hell is old man Thalorin?'

The thought stabbed him harder than any enemy blade.

The man who could save all of them with ease.

The only one who would never let this happen.

'So where the hell is he?'

Another tremor shook the earth.

No—something else.

The central tower flared with mana.

But it was unstable. Raw. Like something that had been ripped open from the inside.

Vivienne's voice, distant and strained.

"Lindarion!"

One of the kneeling invaders twitched.

Then lunged again.

Faster.

Too fast.

The creature's strike curved midair—missing him by an inch and slamming into the ground instead.

He pivoted. Drove an elbow into the back of its helm.

It crumpled—but didn't stay down.

There was no more time.

[Realmwalker]

The air bent around him.

And the shadows of an unseen invisible empire stretched out across the courtyard.

The temperature seemed dropped.

The noise faded.

A domain unfolded—cold, ancient, and patient.

Here, in this place, he was not a student.

He was the heir of a forgotten throne.

And his enemies were trespassing.

—

They stopped marching.

The moment Lindarion's domain settled over the field—every armored figure froze.

Not by choice.

By instinct.

As if some ancient part of them remembered what it meant to stand before a king.

And they didn't like it.

[Thronebearer]

The lesser-willed students nearby collapsed to one knee, not in worship—but fear. The domain was too heavy for those untrained in resisting presence.

Jack's jaw clenched. Vivienne threw up a barrier of fire to protect the students around her still breathing.

Only the invaders moved forward.

Slowly.

Like they were testing it.

"I said fall!" Lindarion repeated. His voice echoed across the domain.

Three of them dropped.

Four more twitched.

But the eighth—larger than the others—stepped forward.

Unaffected.

It raised one hand.

Reality rippled.

Then cracked.

Lindarion turned just as something tore through the air behind him—space unraveling like paper. A rift, spiraling inwards, latched around his legs like it was alive.

[Phantom Step]

He moved half a step—

—and the pull wrenched him backward.

He didn't teleport. He was dragged.

'I'm fucked.'

"A trap," he breathed.

The domain shuddered.

Vivienne's scream cut through the noise. "LINDARION!"

He reached for his blade however it was futile.

Too slow.

A blade, glowing with a sickly green hue, shot forward—

Cassian threw himself into its path.

The impact was sickening.

The force sent him crashing into the courtyard wall. Crystal fragments burst from his ribs. He didn't move.

"Cassian!"

Lindarion turned, rage flaring—

And the rift behind him snapped shut.

Gone.

He wasn't in the courtyard anymore.

The last thing they saw was his eyes, still glowing with light—before the world swallowed him whole.

And the courtyard fell silent.

The invaders disappeared without a trace, as space rippled where they were supposed to stand.

The students were left behind.

Breathless.

Wounded. Bleeding.

And most of all—afraid.

Because no one—not even the highest-born among them—had any idea where Lindarion Sunblade had just been taken.

Or who would dare to take him.