Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 147: Road Ahead (1)

The incline didn’t let up.

Every step dug into his calves. The stone wasn’t sharp, but it wasn’t forgiving either. Just steady. Old. The kind of ground that didn’t care who you were or how important your journey felt.

Lindarion shifted his scarf higher over his mouth. Not for warmth. Just to stop his breath from whistling through his teeth.

He didn’t want them to hear how tired he actually was.

Meren was already panting. Loud. Too loud. His boots scuffed every other step. At some point, he’d stopped lifting his feet properly and just started dragging them.

"I feel like my spine’s folding inward," Meren muttered.

Ren walked past him like she hadn’t even heard.

"You’re dramatic," she said without looking.

"I’m dying."

"You’ve been dying for the last two hours."

"Maybe I’m committed to the bit."

"Or maybe your lungs are weak."

Lira snorted. Quiet. She didn’t slow down.

Lindarion didn’t speak. Just kept climbing.

The sun had shifted behind the clouds a while ago, but there was still light. That pale silver-gray kind that made everything look bleached and too still.

Wind pushed at them in bursts now. Not constant. Just cold enough to sting when it hit the gap between collar and skin.

He adjusted his grip on the strap of his pack. The weight settled better now. His legs didn’t ache like before. The recovery had worked.

[System Status: Stable]

That part flickered behind his eyes and vanished. Like the system was checking in, but only briefly. Not a message. Just a nod.

’Good.’

Ardan slowed near the bend and glanced back.

"How much longer?"

Lira tilted her head up. Her eyes scanned the ridge above like she was measuring something only she could see.

"Two climbs. One rest."

"Define rest."

"Flat space. Windbreak."

Meren groaned. "Will there be seating?"

Ren stopped walking. Turned around. Stared at him.

"What do you think this is? A scenic route?"

Meren threw up his hands. "I don’t know. Maybe someone thought to leave a nice bench."

Lindarion couldn’t help it. He smiled.

Not wide. Just the corner of his mouth lifting.

Ren looked at him. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"You’re laughing."

"No, I’m not."

"You are."

"Silently."

"Still counts."

He kept walking.

The mountain had started to level, just slightly. Enough to trick his legs into thinking they were done working, even though they clearly weren’t.

The trail curved left, cutting along a narrow ledge. One side wall. One side sky.

Lindarion’s boots crunched softly. No echo. Just frost breaking underfoot.

Every time he blinked, he tasted salt at the back of his throat.

’Still sweating. Even in this cold.’

They passed a cluster of jagged rocks that looked like someone had tried to build a cairn and given up halfway. Ren tapped one with the tip of her boot.

"Anyone else getting that weird feeling again?"

Ardan frowned. "Define weird."

"Like... eyes in your spine."

Meren turned a full circle. "I swear if this is another haunted thing, I’m done. I’m rolling down the hill and letting gravity sort it out."

"Please do," Ren said. "I want to watch."

Lira didn’t stop. "There’s no threat."

Ren narrowed her eyes. "You sure?"

"Yes."

That was the end of that.

Lindarion looked up. The ridge above them was higher now. Sharp at the top. Snow clung to the sides like it had been placed, not fallen.

He reached forward and grabbed a low ledge. Pulled himself up.

No strain. His body remembered this. The climb. The cold. The silence.

Not the academy.

Not the palace.

This.

He reached the top of the ledge and stepped aside to let the others follow.

The wind caught his coat. Just a flick. Just a reminder.

They weren’t done yet.

But it was easier now.

His core was steady.

His limbs moved without complaint.

And the cold didn’t feel so sharp anymore.

Just present. Like a voice that didn’t need to raise itself to be heard.

He glanced back as Lira stepped up beside him.

She didn’t say anything.

Neither did he.

They just kept climbing.

The trail thinned again. Not dangerously, but enough to make conversation dip into silence. One misstep here didn’t mean death. Just a very stupid injury, and maybe a long slide into humiliation.

Lindarion watched Meren nearly trip on a low rock. He caught himself, barely, then pretended to cough.

Nobody said anything.

Ren didn’t laugh. But her shoulders moved a little, like she was deciding whether to be kind or not.

Lira didn’t even glance back. She moved like a line drawn in charcoal, straight, quiet, and unbothered by the rest of the sketch.

Lindarion stayed at the back now. Not because he was slow. Just to watch them all move. Something about it felt... grounding.

Ardan kept checking distances. Meren was obviously regretting his life choices. Ren had started humming. Off-key.

’Of course she hums. She’s the kind of person who’d hum through an ambush.’

His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword. Just checking. It was still there. Still balanced against his hip. Still waiting.

The trail bent again. This time around a ridge of moss-covered stone. Old markings scratched into the surface. Maybe once letters. Maybe just wind.

He paused there. Let his fingers drift across the edge.

Cold.

Still smooth.

He felt it before he saw it.

That odd pull. Not magical. Not dangerous. Just that thing the wild places had. Like they were old enough to remember something you’d forgotten.

Lira glanced back.

"You good?"

He nodded once. "Yeah. Just... listening."

She tilted her head. "To rocks?"

"Maybe."

She didn’t laugh. Didn’t judge. Just kept walking.

Ren slowed until she was beside him. Her coat rustled softly. She tossed something small into the ravine. Probably a pebble. Possibly part of her patience.

"You always do that?"

"Do what?"

"The staring thing."

Lindarion blinked. "What staring thing?"

She pointed at his face.

"That one. The very thoughtful, very mysterious, ’I’m brooding but also interesting’ thing."

He gave her a dry look.

"I’m not brooding."

"Okay."

"I’m observing."

"Sure."

She stepped ahead again. Humming started back up a few seconds later. Same off-key mess. Still kind of charming.

Lindarion sighed. Kept moving.

The slope turned steeper just ahead. Ardan was already climbing. He didn’t talk when it got vertical. Too practical for that. Meren grumbled a few feet below, halfway through some complaint about being born without wings.

Lira pulled herself up next. Not even winded. She moved like the mountain owed her something.

Lindarion crouched, found a groove in the stone, and followed.

The rocks were dry now. Less frost. More exposed edges.

He liked that better. His boots had grip. His hands remembered the angles.

Climbing didn’t hurt. That was new.

He reached the top of the ridge a second behind Lira. His breath steady. His core warm. His thoughts quiet, for once.

Ren peeked over the edge after him.

"That was boring," she said. "I thought there’d be at least one giant eagle or surprise avalanche."

"We’re not that unlucky," he said.

"Yet."

The ledge opened up into a long stretch of uneven ground. Flat, but cracked in old lines. Like the mountain had once flexed its back and hadn’t bothered to fix the scars.

A few trees grew along the far edge. Bare, crooked, thin like bones trying to pretend they were bark.