Reincarnated as an Elf Prince
Chapter 188 - 188: Bang

Night settled like a lazy thief.

Quiet. Cold. Intent on stealing rest.

Lindarion sat by the fire, elbows on his knees, chin resting in one hand. Ashwing was curled up at his feet again, tail flicking softly every few minutes like he was dreaming about eating something bigger than him. Maybe Meren.

The rest of the group was scattered around the main room of the inn in various states of pre-exhaustion.

Ren leaned back against the wall, boots kicked up on a bench, balancing a knife on one finger and pretending not to be good at it. Her expression said she was absolutely waiting for someone to ask.

Meren had his arms folded and his hood pulled up, quietly losing a mental argument with gravity. Every ten minutes his head jerked up like he'd won. Then it slumped again.

Ardan stood near the back window, because of course he did. Just watching. Not brooding. He didn't do that. He just stared with so much intent that the shadows probably reported to him.

Lira sat near the fire but didn't look at it. She had her legs crossed, her dagger in her lap, and that expression that said she was thinking about ten things and possibly judging all of them.

Lindarion stretched out one leg and let his ankle crack. Loudly.

Ren glanced over. "You good?"

"Define good."

"You're not bleeding or cursed, right?"

"No. But the night is young."

She flipped the knife once, caught it, and grinned. "Now you're learning."

Lindarion looked into the fire. Not dramatic. Just bored.

'I have fought monsters, and a bunch of other shit. But this room might be where my patience dies.'

The fire popped once. Ashwing twitched in his sleep, then stretched one claw onto Lindarion's boot like claiming territory. Again.

The floor creaked above. Someone moved in the inn's upper rooms. Probably another guest. Or a rat the size of a child. This village had that kind of energy.

Meren finally gave up pretending to be awake and slumped sideways onto the table. Ren nudged him once with her boot. No reaction.

Lira blinked slowly. "If he snores, I'm moving upstairs."

"I'll burn him," Lindarion offered.

"Generous."

Time slipped forward in awkward little pieces. No one talked much. Not because they were avoiding each other, just because sometimes quiet made more sense. Even chaos needed an intermission.

Ashwing snorted in his sleep.

Ren stood and stretched. Her joints popped like a chorus of tiny explosions. "Alright. I'm out."

She kicked Meren. "You coming or should we let the shadows eat you?"

He groaned and waved a hand. "Let them try."

"Cool. Sleep tight."

She headed up the stairs. Ardan followed after a moment, silently, like the wind told him when bedtime arrived.

Lira stood last.

Her gaze flicked to Lindarion for just a second. No words. Just that look.

He nodded. "I'll be up later."

She disappeared up the stairs.

Which left him, Ashwing, and the fire.

He shifted slightly.

Let the warmth crawl up his arms.

Not thinking.

Just… pausing.

The silence settled again.

Then shattered.

BANG.

The front door slammed once, hard enough to rattle the nearby lantern.

Ashwing jerked upright and hissed.

Lindarion stood slowly.

Eyes narrowed.

Hand already moving toward the blade resting beside the bench.

'…And there it is.'

Someone knocked again.

Harder.

Faster.

No words.

Just fists.

Again.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

He stepped toward the door.

Didn't open it.

Yet.

Just rested one hand against the wood.

Heat coiled in his palm.

Ashwing crouched low behind him, smoke curling from his nose.

Lindarion leaned forward, voice low and perfectly calm.

"Who is it?"

Another bang.

Ashwing froze, ears twitching. Then he bolted under the bed like the bravest lizard in history.

Lindarion sighed. '…Of course.'

He crossed the room and cracked the door.

Raleth stood on the landing. Soaked. Breathing like he'd sprinted the length of the village twice and then had a conversation with a brick wall.

"Get the others," he said. "Now."

"Define 'now,'" Lindarion said, already grabbing his coat. "Like… casual urgency or screaming soon?"

Raleth's face didn't move. "Monsters. Northern edge. Multiple. We don't have the numbers to hold."

'…Casual screaming, then.'

Lindarion didn't wait for further poetry.

He turned on his heel, to go to the others rooms.

"Get up."

"No," came Meren's muffled voice.

"Wrong answer." Lindarion shoved the door open.

Ren sat up first, bleary-eyed and knife already in hand. "What is it?"

"Village is under attack."

Ren sighed like someone had just told her breakfast was canceled. "Figures."

Meren rolled over. "I just got warm."

"You'll be warmer if you're eaten," Lindarion said, already moving.

He kicked Ardan's door next. Didn't wait.

Ardan opened it in the next breath, already lacing a bracer onto his forearm.

He looked at Lindarion. "Who's leading?"

"Raleth's downstairs."

"Good."

That was all he said. Because of course it was.

Last door.

Lira's.

He didn't knock.

She was already there. Blade in hand. Eyes steady. Hair tied back.

"Let's go," she said, brushing past him like she'd known ten minutes before the knock came.

They met Raleth at the stairs.

The man gave them all a tight nod. "They've breached the outer field. Scouts say they're fast. Mist-based. Not like the last ones."

Lindarion followed as they all moved, Ashwing skittering down the steps behind them with something between curiosity and glee.

At the base of the inn, cold slammed into his chest again. The wind had picked up. Somewhere in the dark, something let out a noise that didn't belong in a world with logic or mercy.

"Gear up. Then we move," Raleth said.

"Define 'we,'" Meren whispered to Ren.

"You, me, sleep deprivation, and poor life decisions," she muttered back.

Lindarion ignored them.

His hand warmed.

The fire affinity pulsed behind his ribs, slow and steady. Waiting.

Waiting for whatever came next.

'…Guess we're clocking in early tonight.'

He pulled his scarf up and stepped outside and the others followed straight after.