Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 97: Meeting

Kael finally raised his eyes.

And the temperature in the room seemed to lower by a breath.

Cassian stopped breathing. Luneth shifted her stance, subtly—but not subtly enough for someone like Kael to miss.

Still, he said nothing.

His eyes landed on Lindarion like weights dropped into a well. Not burning. Not furious. Just fixed.

"Do you think," Kael said softly, "that you're untouchable?"

'Why is he acting like a third rate villain…'

Lindarion didn't answer.

Kael rose.

Not fast. Not in a flash. He stood like someone standing from a throne he didn't remember sitting on.

He was taller. Older. And behind his presence lurked something feral, not like Rowan's shadow-predator weight, but colder. Sharper. Less wounded, more refined to a weapon.

"I don't care who you impressed today," Kael continued. "Or how many eyes are watching you. I've seen power before. Real power. And I've seen it break people younger than you."

Still no answer.

Kael stepped forward. Two paces.

"I could crush your lungs in two syllables."

'Pfff, in your dreams man…'

Lindarion had to hold back his laughter, however he calmed himself quickly.

Cassian tensed. Luneth didn't move.

"And what would that prove?" Lindarion asked calmly.

"That no one's above fear." Kael's gaze didn't waver. "You need to understand your place."

'He can't be serious.'

"I do." Lindarion's voice didn't rise. "And it's not beneath you."

The pause hit like silence between claps of thunder.

Kael's hand lifted.

Just one. Open-palmed. Not a spell formation—not yet—but the first stage of a promise.

Cassian hissed, "Hey—okay, everyone breathe—"

Too late.

Kael's hand shifted. A flicker of gold-lightning mana traced the edge of his fingers.

A direct threat.

A declaration.

And then—

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Lindarion however didn't like that.

Not a flinch, he literally just stood still

But the air changed around him.

Not with heat. Not with pressure.

It was his command.

Like the floor had become something sacred. Like the world itself paused to check whether it had his permission to spin.

Kael blinked.

But didn't step back.

And then—Lindarion struck.

It wasn't a grand gesture. Not an arc of power. Just a single step forward, one hand raised, faster than thought—

CRACK.

His palm met Kael's face in a flat, uncompromising slap.

The kind that didn't leave blood or break bone.

The kind that reset hierarchies.

Kael reeled half a step—half. But in this room, a half-step might as well have been a collapse.

'Dumbass.'

Lindarion's eyes didn't flicker.

He didn't reach for a skill or anything of the sort.

He didn't speak.

He just looked at Kael like nothing had happened.

And that was worse.

Kael's jaw flexed. His aura trembled—not in fear, not quite—but in the way an unstable blade might shake before it snapped.

"What—" Kael's voice started low, almost inaudible.

But Lindarion stepped closer.

And with it came the passive pull.

[Thronebearer]

It wasn't for a show.

Just a deadly presence.

A weight dropped into the spine of the person in front of him.

Kael's knee twitched. Not in reflex—in resistance. His will shuddered against the invisible tide.

And lost.

The silence stretched.

Then Kael straightened. His lip curled—whether from rage or restraint wasn't clear.

He looked at Lindarion.

This time…with recognition.

Not deference.

Not fear.

But for the first time since their encounter—

He was respecting Lindarion.

Cassian exhaled behind them, shaky. "Okay. What the hell happened…"

Kael turned without a word and left the room.

Vivienne was gone already by this point, he left without any of them noticing.

Luneth said nothing.

Cassian blinked wildly. "I'm sorry. Was that… did you just slap Kael Faerlyn? You literally just bitched him…that was so cool man."

Lindarion didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

Because no one else in that room dared to speak for a long, long time.

Lindarion walked out.

'Technically what he said is true.'

He didn't turn around. Didn't respond. Just listened to their footsteps echo on old stone and tried to ignore the fact that his palm still kind of stung.

"You slapped him," Cassian repeated, louder this time, like it had to be said twice to make sense. "I thought you'd thread him or mind-break him or—whatever weird mage stuff you do. But no. You just. Slapped. A Faerlyn."

'That probably wasn't the best idea, but the people here are just getting on my nerves.'

"I panicked and made a sudden decision" Lindarion muttered, mostly to himself.

Luneth gave a quiet snort. "No, you didn't."

He frowned. "You don't know that."

"You didn't hesitate."

'That's not the same thing.'

Cassian whistled low. "Honestly? Power move. Bold. Unhinged. A little hot, not gonna lie."

'The fuck did he just say to me?'

"What?"

Cassian just shrugged innocently.

'Ignore him Lindarion…If you feed it, it grows.'

"I'm saying," he went on, "we need to commemorate this moment. A slap like that deserves a holiday. Maybe a statue. Ooh—can we get Kael to sponsor it?"

'The hell is he saying at this point.'

"I don't want a statue," Lindarion muttered.

"I want a statue," Cassian said brightly. "One of you mid-slap. With, like, a quote on the base. Something dramatic. Like 'Actions have consequences' or 'Don't test me, heir.'"

Lindarion covered his face with one hand.

'I've definitely made a mistake.'

They turned the corner near the upper dorm stairs.

And of course—

Vivienne was already waiting for them.

Not leaning. Not pacing. Just… standing. Like she had all the time in the world and none of it was yours.

'Of course she's waiting.'

"Done?" she asked calmly.

Lindarion let his hand drop. "I think so?"

Vivienne's gaze flicked over him. "Did he deserve it?"

"…Kind of."

Her expression didn't change, but something in the air lightened. Just slightly.

"Good," she said.

Cassian blinked. "Wait, that's it? We're just okay with this now?"

Vivienne looked at him like someone observing a bug with potential. "He escalated. He was warned. He was corrected."

"He was slapped."

Vivienne's head tilted. "Sometimes the simplest feedback is the clearest."

'She's not wrong.'

She stepped closer. Not threatening. Just deliberate.

"Be careful, Lindarion," she said. "Next time he won't bait you in private."

"I know."

"He'll try to make it public."

"I know."

Vivienne nodded, then turned without ceremony and strode off.

Cassian stared after her. "Okay. So. That was Vivienne being supportive. Right? That wasn't a threat?"

Luneth didn't blink. "She was warning him."

"She scares me," Cassian muttered.

"She should."

Lindarion exhaled.

He didn't regret it. But the slap had been instinct, not calculation. And instincts made waves. People like Kael didn't get humiliated without sharpening their knives for the next round.

'I should've done something else instead. Something with no bruises. No drama. No blood feuds in the making.'

Cassian slowed a little, rubbing his arms. "So… how screwed are you?"

"Moderately," Lindarion muttered.

Luneth snorted again. "That's optimistic."

They were almost outside when the air shifted again.

Lindarion didn't have to look up to know who it was.

He looked anyway.

'Of course. Jack.'

Leaning against a low pillar like he was born to haunt entrances. Arms crossed. That faint curve of the mouth that wasn't a smile, just a promise that he was amused and you probably wouldn't be.

"You slapped Kael," Jack said.

'How does he even know..'

Lindarion sighed. "Yes, any problems with it?"

"You slapped Kael Faerlyn."

Cassian raised a hand. "See? It's catching on."

Lindarion folded his arms. "You here to tell me it was a mistake?"

Jack shrugged. "Oh, no. I thought it was brilliant."

'What?'

"…Really?"

"You're still going to suffer for it," Jack said pleasantly. "But I respect your audacity."

'Great. Praise from someone who thinks manipulation is child's play.'

Jack stepped forward, eyes still sharp. Measuring.

"You're more interesting than I gave you credit for."

"I get that a lot lately."

"Don't let it get to your head."

"I won't."

"Good," Jack said. "That's when people are the most dangerous."

He moved aside, a subtle gesture.

Lindarion hesitated. Then walked past.

Jack didn't stop him.

But just as Lindarion passed the column, Jack spoke again—voice low.

"Watch who flocks to you now. Power leaves a scent."

Lindarion didn't turn, he kept walking towards his dorm room.

'Let them. I'm not here to be anyone's prize.'

—

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Lindarion didn't move for a moment.

The stillness of the dorm room wrapped around him like a second skin—neat, silent, untouched since morning. Just the way he left it.

'Finally.'

No stares. No lectures. No Kael trying to prove something.

Just—quiet.

He stepped inside, sliding his jacket off in a smooth motion. The fabric landed across the back of the desk chair, perfectly balanced. His fingertips brushed the desk once as he passed it, eyes flicking briefly toward the darkening sky outside his window.

Orange twilight. Just late enough to be finished. Just early enough to be restless.

'Tried to bait me into whatever stupidity he wanted to do. Idiot.'

Kael had been exactly what Lindarion expected.

Insecure. Desperate to reclaim something that no one had taken from him.

'And he calls me arrogant.'

The pathetic thing was—Kael had probably planned that confrontation all day. Rehearsed his lines. Imagined the smirk he'd wear when he won.

'Should've rehearsed his act instead.'

Lindarion exhaled softly, crossing the room to stand near the bed. He lifted a hand, fingers curling loosely, and the mana shifted instantly.

No heat. No flare.

Just cold.

Cold and deep and quiet—like something rising from beneath a frozen lake.

The shadows on the floor stirred, bending unnaturally toward him.

And then—

A girl stepped out of them.

Selene.

Pale veil trailing behind her, gown dark as ink, silver eyes almost glowing in the dim light. She moved like a ghost, but looked at him like she'd always been there.

She blinked once. Slowly.

"…You're back."

Lindarion dropped his hand. "Wasn't planning on dying."

Selene frowned faintly. "You didn't summon me for around four days."

He arched his brows. "Were you counting?"

"I always count," she said simply.

He turned away, pulling his gloves off with a quiet tug. "I didn't need backup."

Selene watched him for a long moment.

Then stepped forward.

"Still. You should call for me," she said. "Even if just to say you're alive."

'She says it like she doesn't care. But she sounds mad every time I don't summon her.'

Lindarion flicked his gloves onto the desk and leaned back slightly against the edge.

"It wasn't serious."

Selene folded her hands in front of her.

"Another third-year?"

"Kael."

"Is this Kael still breathing?"

Lindarion gave her a flat look.

Selene's expression didn't change, but her silver eyes gleamed.

"I'm only asking," she said. "No judgment."

"I didn't kill him."

Selene raised an eyebrow. "Did you embarrass him?"

A faint pause.

"…Yes."

She smiled.

"Good."

Lindarion shook his head. "It was a waste of time. He thought he was making a statement."

"To who?"

"Probably to himself," he muttered. "No one else cared."

Selene drifted closer, standing beside him now, her voice lower.

"He wanted to remind you where your place was."

'My place huh?'

Lindarion scoffed. "And instead he found slaps."

A beat of silence.

Then Selene spoke uo.

"You're annoyed."

'Always.'

He didn't say that.

Instead, "I came to train, not babysit people's insecurities."

Selene tilted her head. "He's not the last one."

"I know."

"Are you going to keep holding back?"

Lindarion's eyes narrowed slightly.

He didn't answer right away.

Then—

"…If they keep wasting my time, I might stop."

Selene smiled.

But she didn't say good this time.

Instead, she floated past him and perched herself lightly on the desk, veil trailing off the side like spilled ink.

She smoothed her skirt once.

Then looked at him.

"Did anyone else bother you, Young Master?"

Lindarion leaned back against the bedpost, arms crossed loosely.

"…No."

Selene blinked. "That's a first."

He shrugged. "They're starting to realize."

"That you're dangerous?"

"That I don't care."

Selene went still for a moment.

Then quietly.

"…That's not true."

Lindarion didn't respond.

His gaze drifted to the window, watching the last light fade from the skyline.

Selene's voice came again, softer this time.

"You do care."

'…That's the problem.'

But he didn't say that either.

Because silence was easier.

Because silence never asked for more.