Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 62: Troublesome People

Cassian nodded quickly, looking almost relieved. Then, after a brief pause, he muttered, "I don’t have that."

Lindarion tilted his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

Cassian’s gaze dropped to the ground, his back pressed against the wall. "I’m not… like you. Or Luneth. Or even Vivienne." His voice was quieter now, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to be heard.

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"I can’t really fight with…weapons. I can only use magic, but it’s different. It’s slow. Calculated. People don’t—" He stopped, pressing his lips together before exhaling softly. "People don’t think it’s impressive."

’Who cares about what they think…?’

Lindarion thought to himself. But Cassian wasn’t wrong...in a way. Crystals weren’t like fire or lightning—they didn’t explode or tear through a battlefield with sheer destructive force…well, they could..kind of.

But that didn’t mean they weren’t powerful.

"You stopped Jack’s fire with a flick of your hand," Lindarion said. "Made it look easy."

Cassian flinched slightly, like he wasn’t used to being praised. "That wasn’t power," he muttered. "It was just… knowing where and when to use the crystal. How to use it properly."

"Which is exactly what Sylric was talking about today," Lindarion pointed out. "Control over raw strength. Making something difficult look effortless. That’s not unimpressive."

Cassian’s fingers curled slightly around his sleeve. "I guess."

Lindarion wasn’t sure why, but something about Cassian’s uncertainty irritated him. He wasn’t the type to go around reassuring people, but he also wasn’t the type to let someone dismiss their own abilities so easily.

So he shrugged and said, "If you ever want to test that slow, calculated magic against a sword, let me know."

Cassian’s head snapped up so fast it was almost comical. His eyes widened. "Wait—you mean—like a spar?"

Lindarion smirked. "Unless you’re too afraid."

Cassian blinked, clearly caught between wanting to protest and not knowing how to respond. His fingers twitched again. "…I wouldn’t win."

"Not with that attitude."

Cassian opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking genuinely uncertain. But there was something else there too—something thoughtful, lingering just beneath the hesitation.

Lindarion rolled his shoulders and started walking towards the cafeteria. "Think about it."

Cassian sat there for a moment, watching him go, before rubbing the back of his neck. "…I will."

And for Cassian, that was probably the closest thing to a yes.

—

Lindarion stepped outside, the cool air brushing against his skin as he made his way towards the cafeteria.

At least it’s refreshing.

He hadn’t been at the academy long enough to memorize all the paths, but he figured if he just followed the flow of students, he’d get there eventually.

Unfortunately, it seemed he wasn’t going to get there without something getting in his way.

"Are you lost, little elf?"

The voice came from his left—casual, amused, but with an edge that immediately set Lindarion on alert.

’What now?’

Turning, he spotted a group of third-years stepping out from under a stone archway. Four of them. Their postures were too relaxed, too casual—like they expected to be in control of whatever came next.

’I hate people like this.’

The one who had spoken was a tall, broad-shouldered boy with auburn hair, his smirk edged with something sharp. "The first-year prodigy," he drawled, arms folded. "You look lost."

Lindarion’s expression didn’t change, but internally, he frowned.

’How does he even know who I am?’

He didn’t respond immediately, just shook his head and kept walking.

The group spread out slightly—not enough to seem obvious, but enough to make it clear they weren’t letting him through.

"So this is how it’s going to be."

Lindarion’s voice was flat, his gaze sweeping over them. All older. All taller. Except for one, lingering at the back, shifting on his feet like he wasn’t sure he wanted to be there.

The auburn-haired boy stepped directly into his path, forcing Lindarion to stop unless he wanted to walk straight into him. "Come on, humor me," he said, smirk widening. "You don’t really know where you’re going, do you?"

Lindarion sighed. "I do."

The boy blinked, as if thrown off by the sheer lack of reaction. Then he chuckled. "Really?"

"Really. Now move."

One of the others snorted, but the leader’s smirk sharpened. "You’ve got a mouth on you, huh? First-year prodigy."

Lindarion didn’t answer.

Another one, a blond boy, took a step closer, voice mock-thoughtful. "Lindarion, right? Heard a rumor about you. Some people say you cheated on the entrance exam. That’s really fucked up, man."

Lindarion’s fingers twitched.

The blond boy grinned. "That’s it, isn’t it? You cheated, didn’t you? You’re not actually some prodigy, just a cheating little bastard."

A slow, creeping heat curled in Lindarion’s chest. He could ignore them. Could walk past. But the way they stood, the way they looked at him—like he was beneath them—made his patience wear thin.

The auburn-haired boy flexed his fingers, a flicker of magic sparking at his fingertips. "C’mon," he said, almost friendly. "Let’s see if you’ve got the skills to back up that attitude. Just a little spar. No hard feelings."

Lindarion exhaled. Then, without a word—

He moved.

Not towards the auburn-haired boy, but toward the one standing behind him. The uncertain one. The one who hadn’t spoken once.

The boy flinched as Lindarion closed the distance between them, eyes darting to his friends as if expecting a cue.

Lindarion stopped just short of him, tilting his head slightly. "You don’t look like you want to be here."

The boy swallowed. His mouth opened, then closed again.

Lindarion held his gaze. "So why are you?"

A tense silence followed. The other two shifted slightly, glancing between them.

The auburn-haired boy’s smirk faltered. "Hey—"

The uncertain boy hesitated. Then, finally, he stepped back.

Lindarion took that as his cue. He turned and walked away.

For a moment, none of them moved.

Then—

"Tch." The auburn-haired boy clicked his tongue, but he didn’t try to stop him.

Lindarion didn’t look back. He kept walking, but as he passed, he let his aura flare.

The air turned heavy. Their bodies tensed—one of them staggered back, nearly dropping to his knees.

"W-what—"

Lindarion didn’t stop. Didn’t even look at them.

"If you try this again," he murmured, voice cold, "you’ll regret it."

He left them standing there.

And next time, if they really wanted to start something—

He wouldn’t bother with words.

—

After wandering around for what felt like forever, Lindarion finally found his destination.

’The cafeteria, finally.’

The moment he stepped inside, a wave of scents hit him—freshly baked bread, spiced meat, something sweet lingering in the air. The place was packed, voices overlapping in an unending hum of conversation.

Some students were already eating, but most were still standing in line, waiting for their turn.

’Great. A huge line...’

With a quiet sigh, Lindarion moved toward the line—only to stop when a hand wrapped around his wrist.

"I got you one."

The voice was flat, expressionless. When he turned his head, Luneth was already holding out a tray, her dark eyes unreadable. She balanced the two trays effortlessly, her posture stiff, almost unnatural—like a server who hated their job.

Lindarion took the tray without argument. "Thanks."

Finding a seat turned out to be more of a struggle than expected. Every table was full. Every spare seat taken.

’You’ve got to be kidding me…’

His eyes scanned the room, and eventually, he spotted an open space—right next to a familiar green-haired boy.

He walked over and sat down without waiting for an answer. "This seat taken?"

Cassian’s gaze flicked between him and Luneth. He swallowed, then shook his head quickly.

Lindarion raised a brow. Was Cassian nervous? Luneth wasn’t even doing anything. She just existed in that detached, unreadable way of hers.

Either way, none of them bothered with conversation.

The three of them ate in silence, tucked away in the corner of the room, ignoring everything else.

Meanwhile the cafeteria buzzed with conversation, the clatter of utensils against plates filling the space, but at their table, silence reigned.

Lindarion didn’t mind. He wasn’t one for mindless chatter, and Luneth certainly wasn’t either.

Cassian, on the other hand, seemed like he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to. His fingers drummed lightly against the edge of his tray, his posture tense.

Lindarion ignored it, focused on eating. The food wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t anything special either. Still, it was warm, and after the irritation from earlier, he welcomed it.

Cassian cleared his throat suddenly. "Uh… so…"

Lindarion looked up. "What?"

Cassian hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing."

Luneth barely spared him a glance. "If you have something to say, then you can say it."

Cassian exhaled, then muttered, "I just… saw what happened outside."

Lindarion didn’t react immediately, simply taking another bite of his food. "And?"

Cassian fidgeted. "Nothing. Just… those guys, the third-years, they’re not the type to let things go."

Lindarion finally met his gaze, chewing thoughtfully. Cassian’s expression was uncertain, but there was something else too—concern, maybe?

"They looked pretty weak for people who don’t let things go," Lindarion said flatly.

Cassian winced. "That’s not the point. They’re part of a bigger group, and they’ve got older students backing them. If you embarrassed them, they will try something again."

Lindarion wasn’t worried. "Let them."