Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 38: Dungeon Clearing (2)

Lindarion moved swiftly across the battlefield, aiding his teammates whenever he could.

[Mana Shot]

A sphere of mana formed in his palm, pulsing with energy before he fired it toward a humanoid figure. The moment the shot struck, the figure vanished into thin air.

"Six!"

Lindarion shouted as he confirmed the kill.

'I can do this. We can do this.'

Swords clashed, their echoes ringing through the cavern. Arrows sliced through the air in every direction. Lindarion fought against a humanoid figure, parrying and countering its attacks.

Then, a piercing scream cut through the battlefield.

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The sound sent a shudder down his spine.

Dodging an incoming strike, he turned toward the source—just in time to see Trainee 42 collapse, impaled from behind by the sword of a creature.

Lindarion's body tensed. His stomach twisted at the sight of his teammate's blood pooling on the ground.

Their eyes met for a brief moment before—

Lindarion disappeared.

[Shadow Step]

Then suddenly he reappeared near 42.

Darkness swirled around him as he manipulated his core's energy. A black orb materialized in his grasp, crackling ominously before he launched it toward the figure.

The thing tried to flee. It was pointless.

The moment the darkness touched it, its existence was erased—consumed as if it had never been there.

Lindarion picked up 42's body as she lay there on the ground like a doll. Without hesitation he sprinted toward 112.

'Come on. She can't die here. Not on my watch.'

The other trainees paled at the sight of their fallen comrade.

"Don't give up! It's not over yet!"

Lindarion's voice carried through the battlefield as he placed 42 in front of 112. Without hesitation, 112 began healing.

"Team Leader! We need help!"

Trainee 12 shouted, panic in his voice. With 42 down, their formation had broken, forcing them onto the defensive.

'We can't fall apart now.'

[Shadow Step]

Lindarion reappeared beside 12 just in time to deflect a strike that would have ended him.

However, he was burning through his mana pool pretty quickly. Too quickly.

"Push forward! There's only six left!"

Lindarion and 12 continued to press the attack, leading the charge. The others followed, regrouping into pairs to fight.

One by one, the figures fell.

Vanishing into nothingness.

As soon as all the enemies fell the mist started clearing up slowly.

[Mana Perception]

"No more enemies left."

Lindarion exhaled sharply, scanning the area before turning toward 112—who sat frozen on the ground, clutching 42's hand.

The rest of the team approached, forming a silent circle.

112 trembled, hands stained red.

"I... I couldn't heal her. The wound—i-it wouldn't close."

Tears welled in 112's eyes, voice breaking.

[Mana Perception]

"She's gone."

Lindarion's voice was quiet, but final.

No trace of mana remained inside of her core, it looked completely devoid of any mana.

His stomach churned as he forced his expression to remain neutral.

The others started shaking, eyes locked on 42's lifeless body. She lay there as if peacefully asleep—except for the gaping wound in her chest.

'In the end, I couldn't protect everyone.'

Lindarion clenched his fists, his body trembling.

'But it's not over. We still have to move forward.'

He scanned his teammates. Grief was etched into their faces. Words failed him. He hadn't prepared for this.

"...We have to keep going."

His voice was gentle, but the reaction was immediate. Some turned to him in disbelief—like wounded animals.

"How can you say that?! How the hell do you expect us to just keep going?!"

198 stepped forward, shouting as her voice wavered.

'I understand. I feel the same. But we have no choice.'

Lindarion's arms were still trembling as he stared at 42's lifeless body. A sight he didn't want to see.

"We have to move forward. There's no other option."

His words hung in the air. Everyone knew he was right. But none of them wanted to admit it.

"What if we just leave? What if we quit?"

198's voice cracked.

'You know damn well that we can't.'

Lindarion said nothing. Instead, he pulled out his communicator.

{Team Leader reporting. Magnus, Trainee 42 is dead. Requesting permission to withdraw.}

However, he already knew the answer.

{...Denied. You can only exit the dungeon after it has been cleared. Continue forward team leader.}

Magnus's voice echoed through their devices.

198 gritted her teeth, her face twisting with frustration.

Lindarion knelt and gently closed 42's eyes.

The others watched in silence.

"We need to go. I know it hurts. I hate that we have to leave her behind. But staying here puts all of us in danger."

His voice was quiet, but firm.

He could only hope they would understand.

"...He's right. We have to move."

Trainee 12 tightened his grip on his sword, nodding.

8 and 12 turned to Lindarion, awaiting his command.

"I agree. If we don't move forward, we'll be next."

71 stepped up, nodding as well.

198 clenched her jaw but said nothing.

One by one, the others turned toward Lindarion.

Waiting for his orders.

"We'll leave 42's body here for now. We'll take it on our way out."

Lindarion could have stored the body in the system's black hole. But doing so in front of so many people? That would raise far too many questions.

'What would I even say... 'I just stored her in my infinite inventory'?'

Shaking his head, he scanned the group.

"We'll move soon, maintain formation even without 42. Stay alert."

The mist had fully dispersed, revealing an even larger gate at the end of the chamber. Its surface was adorned with intricate carvings, as if a master artisan had spent millennia crafting them.

Breathtaking.

"Take a moment to gather yourselves."

Lindarion just needed a little time for his mana to recover. The others didn't sit either—they simply stood there, awaiting his next command.

'...at least it's somewhat restored.'

He thought as his eyes scanned through the uneasy group of trainees.

Ever since he had absorbed Selene using the darkness, his mana pool had skyrocketed.

Shaking off his thoughts, he turned to the others.

"Let's go."

His voice echoed through the now-empty chamber as he strode toward the gate. The others followed closely behind.

"A-Are we really going in?"

112's hesitant voice came from the back as they neared the entrance.

"There's no other way forward. Stay sharp."

At his command, everyone gripped their weapons and took their positions. Lindarion placed both hands on the gate.

'What kind of hell awaits on the other side?'

The stone was icy cold, almost burning to the touch. As he pushed, a thunderous rumble filled the cavern. The sheer weight of the door sent shockwaves through the air, like a cannon blast rolling through the chamber.

Beyond the gate was nothing but darkness.

'...?'

Then, torches flared to life, revealing a grand hall. A long, crimson carpet stretched across the center, its golden embroidery shimmering under the flickering flames.

At the very end of the room—another door.

And in the middle of the carpet...

A throne.

Carved from solid black stone, its very presence seemed to radiate an endless, suffocating darkness.

'A throne? This place... feels like a royal palace.'

Lindarion glanced back and gave a silent nod.

The group cautiously advanced.

Then—the ground trembled.

Behind them, the gate slammed shut, unleashing a powerful gust of wind that could have easily swept away an unprepared man.

[Mana Perception]

Lindarion's gaze snapped downward, but there was nothing—just the ceaseless shaking beneath their feet.

Then, a malicious aura spread from the throne.

The trainees began to tremble.

"W-What is that...?"

8's voice barely rose above a whisper.

'What the fuck is going on.'

A figure began to materialize upon the throne. First, a pile of bones, fusing together piece by piece. Then, a dark shroud wrapped around them, followed by the appearance of a black staff, embedded deep within its hollowed eye socket.

'A skeletal mage?'

[Low-Rank Lich Detected]

'This is considered low-rank?'

"A-A Lich..."

112's voice wavered, her hands gripping her staff so tightly they shook.

But Lindarion was more surprised by the system's sudden notification. It had been silent for a while.

'A Lich? Like the ones from stories?'

The skeleton's empty sockets ignited with a deep, black glow.

Then—the ground shook violently.

The Lich raised a hand.

"Get ready! They're coming from below!"

Suddenly, skeletal arms burst from the ground, clawing their way toward the surface. The Lich's jaw moved, chanting in an ancient, indecipherable tongue.

"Attack!"

The archers let loose a barrage of arrows.

No effect.

"FOCUS THE LICH! They won't stay down as long as it's alive!"

Lindarion's command rang out as the swordsmen charged, cutting a path through the advancing undead.

[Mana Thread Manipulation]

Golden threads shimmered into existence, wrapping around the skeletons, restraining them—mostly.

"NOW! HIT THE LICH!"

The archers took aim.

At the very back, 112 tried to stabilize the team's enhancement.

198 muttered under her breath, drawing her bowstring. Her arrow began to glow, radiating with golden energy.

"Die."

She slowly released it.

The arrow howled through the air like a lightning bolt, striking the Lich square in the chest.

It exploded into pieces.

'She fucking did it—'

Lindarion's thoughts stopped.

Before his very eyes, the shattered bones reassembled on the throne.

The others' faces went pale as they continued cutting down the undead.

The golden mana threads vanished, and a fresh wave of skeletons surged forward.

'We're so fucked.'