Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 4: Locked in

After a few more moments, Lindarion's parents finally stopped staring at him. They exchanged glances before disappearing from the room again, vanishing like ghosts.

At this point, he wasn't even surprised by their speed anymore.

The golden particles of mana still swirled within him, like a gentle wildfire contained within his body, refusing to leave.

'It's like it found a home in me... like it wants to stay.'

[That's because it loves you, Host.]

'Tell me more about this whole Loved by Mana thing.'

Instantly, a flood of information poured into his mind, the system's voice ringing out like an instructor delivering a long-overdue lesson.

[Mana is the fundamental energy of our universe, permeating all things—both living and non-living. It can be used for spellcasting, enhancement, manipulation, and countless other applications.]

[However, there are rare individuals whom mana chooses to love. These people have an extraordinary connection to it, allowing them to instinctively use and control mana without the usual years of study.]

[In addition, while others must train tirelessly, those loved by mana manipulate it as naturally as breathing.]

[The ambient mana in the environment protects them, enhances their abilities, and even subtly guides their actions.]

Lindarion processed the information slowly, realization dawning on him.

'I'm starting to see why my parents freaked out... but why didn't you tell me this sooner?!'

[It was more entertaining this way.]

'Entertaining?! You just enjoyed watching me feel awkward, didn't you?'

[Correct.]

'... This system is way too shameless.'

One month passed in the blink of an eye, as fast as a bird soaring endlessly through the ocean-blue sky.

Ever since his parents discovered that mana loved him, Lindarion's life had changed drastically.

Servants were no longer allowed inside his room. No nannies, no maids, not even a handmaid to take care of him. Only his parents were permitted to be near him.

At first, he hadn't cared. But after a month of seeing the same two faces every day, it started getting boring as hell.

'Do they seriously have nothing better to do than babysit me 24/7?'

At the moment, his mother was rocking him in her arms, humming softly as she tried to lull him to sleep. Her voice was ethereal, resonating throughout the room like a divine melody. It was mesmerizing—almost unfairly beautiful.

But no matter how soothing it was, he wasn't tired. Instead, he was restless. The system had given him zero opportunities since he got here. No guidance, no development—nothing. He was stuck growing naturally, and he hated the feeling of wasting time.

'At this rate, I'll die of boredom before I even get to step outside...'

Lindarion had turned one a month ago.

Time moved frighteningly fast in his new life. A whole year had passed, yet he had spent it locked inside his room, a prisoner in his own home. But he understood why. The system had explained everything while he was locked away.

Apparently, individuals Loved by Mana only appeared once every 100 to 200 years. If word got out that he was one of them, he would become nothing more than a walking target.

He had already learned to walk, yet he wasn't able to walk anywhere at all. Just small circles in his room.

At first, he had struggled, but mana—being the clingy entity it was—had made the process absurdly easy. Every time he fell, it gently corrected his balance, like an invisible hand guiding his movements.

Of course, when his parents first saw him stand and walk without support, they paled like ghosts again. At this point, he was half-expecting them to faint.

'It's like I'm giving them a heart attack every month...'

He sighed, walking up to his bed before collapsing onto it face-first.

'It must be nice to have a normal childhood here as well...'

Not that he would know.

Two years passed in a blur.

By the time Lindarion turned three, he had tried to fully adjust to this world—or at least, the tiny fraction of it he was allowed to see.

He had learned to speak... well, more or less. He could form simple sentences with varying degrees of success, but expressing his full thoughts was still impossible.

Not that it was surprising.

'Three whole years... and I still haven't stepped outside the house.'

Yesterday, he had managed to convince his mother with his ultimate secret weapon—crying. After three years of confinement, he finally won the right to explore the mansion freely.

It wasn't much, but after spending three years in one room, it felt like breaking out of prison.

Sitting up in bed, Lindarion stretched his arms with determination.

'Alright... time to make the most of my new freedom.'

He reached out and placed his hands on the door. Strangely, it was warm to the touch. Golden and white markings adorned its surface, intricate and almost pulsating with life.

'Finally.'

Summoning every bit of stored strength in his small body, he pushed against it.

The door groaned softly as it slowly but surely swung open, revealing what lay beyond.

A long corridor stretched out before him—ornate, vast, and alive with movement. Servants bustled about like tireless ants, tending to every corner with practiced precision.

The floor was covered in a deep crimson carpet woven with golden threads that shimmered under the soft glow of enchanted crystal lamps.

The walls, carved from pristine white stone, bore intricate elven patterns—each swirl and symbol crafted with the delicate mastery of an artist who had dedicated centuries to his work.

The moment the door fully opened, an unnatural silence fell over the corridor. Every servant stopped in place and turned to face him.

Lindarion stiffened.

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For a brief second, he wanted to retreat, to slip back into his room before anyone could say a word. But no—he had come this far.

'I have to keep going.'

Steeling himself, he stepped forward, walking down the grand hallway with as much composure as his small legs could muster. The whispering started immediately.

"The young prince... He finally left his room."

"Why was he locked away for so long?"

He ignored the murmurs, though a part of him itched to hear more. But just as he passed by a group of maids, something unexpected happened—something that nearly made him stumble backward in surprise.

They placed their right hands over their hearts and bowed.

Not a small nod of courtesy. A full, formal bow.

As if he were their king.

Lindarion's mind blanked. Heat crept to his cheeks as his thoughts scrambled for an appropriate reaction.

In perfect unison, their voices rang out, filled with nothing but reverence.

"We greet the young prince with respect!"

It was too practiced, too smooth—it was clear they had rehearsed this moment long before it ever came to pass. And yet, despite the rehearsed words, there was something genuine in their tone.

Respect. Sincerity.

It was... comforting, in a way.

'But what am I supposed to do now...?'