Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 40: The Dark King (2)

Lindarion’s body trembled, his breath shallow as his gaze locked onto the abyssal eyes of the Black King.

A severed head dangled lifelessly from its grasp.

The others barely dared to move.

It was 112.

Her innocent brown eyes were still open—still staring at him, even in death.

A sickening chill crawled through Lindarion’s gut, twisting his insides.

’No… this can’t be happening.’

The Black King let go.

The head fell with a sickening sound.

THUD.

The dull, wet sound echoed through the vast chamber.

For a moment, there was nothing but the ragged breaths of the living.

’No… No… No…’

Guilt sank into Lindarion like jagged hooks.

’Why didn’t I move?’

’Why couldn’t I stop it?’

’Why?’

’WHY?!’

Then, his seemingly frozen body moved. As if breaking free from the ice.

"You’re fucking dead."

His voice rang out, cold and absolute. A ripple of sheer killing intent spread across the battlefield.

[Shadow Step]

Lindarion vanished—only to reappear before the Black King like a lightning strike. His sword slashed forward, aiming for the neck.

The Black King tilted its head.

A sidestep. Effortless.

Like it wasn’t even trying.

"MOVE!"

Lindarion roared, his blade a blur of relentless attacks—each faster, sharper, more precise. Still, not a single strike landed.

The Black King slipped through them like an untouchable shadow, an entity beyond mortality itself.

The others still didn’t move.

Their bodies stood frozen in place, drenched in cold sweat.

"Damn it, I said fucking MOVE!"

Mana surged into Lindarion’s blade as he swung again.

A single black gauntlet caught the attack.

The world seemed to still.

Damn it.

[Mana Thread Manipulation]

Golden threads erupted into the air, wrapping around the Black King like a thousand unbreakable chains.

’Let’s see you dodge this you fucking bastard.’

For the first time—it stopped.

Lindarion’s eyes locked onto its empty black visor.

Then—

A flicker of movement.

The Black King ripped through the threads like tearing apart cobwebs.

’Impossible.’

His instincts screamed at him.

"NOW OR NEVER!"

Dark energy gathered in Lindarion’s palm—pure, concentrated destruction—before he hurled it straight at the Black King.

It hit.

Dead center.

For a fleeting moment—hope.

Then, despair.

The Black King sliced through the attack as if it were nothing.

As if all of this—everything they had—was meaningless.

A blur of movement.

A sword appeared behind the Black King, cutting through the air in a deadly arc.

"You’re right on time."

12 had moved. His hands trembled, but his blade did not falter.

8 followed immediately, her spear thrusting toward the King’s exposed side.

Sadly, it was all useless.

The air distorted.

And the Black King was gone.

"MOVE!"

Lindarion’s command was desperate.

But 198—

She stood frozen.

Her wide, horrified eyes still locked onto 112’s corpse.

A sudden warmth bloomed in her chest.

Then—

A sharp, twisting pain.

She looked down.

A blade—long, black, endless—had pierced straight through her body.

Like slicing through a sheet of paper.

’So… this is it…?’

She had never stood a chance.

Her gaze flickered sideways—Lindarion was running toward her, mouth open in a silent scream.

’I’m sorry, everyone…’

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

The Black King ripped the sword free.

Blood sprayed.

"Please…save them, Team Leader."

Her body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud.

Lindarion’s vision blurred.

Then—rage.

12 and 8 surged forward.

’Only seven of us left..’

And only three of them were still able to fight as of right now.

The others? They seemed to be in a mental state of shock. But they were as good as dead if they didn’t move soon.

"MOVE!"

5, 30, 71, and 181 turned to Lindarion.

Their expressions were unreadable.

But one thing was clear—

They didn’t want to die.

Gripping their weapons, they charged.

[Shadow Step]

Lindarion appeared before the King, his blade carving through the air in a ruthless arc.

The Black King stood still.

Like a statue.

Then—just as the sword was about to connect—

It vanished.

A single mana-infused arrow whistled through the air, aimed straight for its head.

5 had taken his shot.

Hope flickered once more.

’We can do this... We have to do this at all costs. We must keep trying.’

5’s thoughts stirred as he loosed more arrows.

’We can’t afford to lose. If we do… then they all died for nothing.’

And yet—

The Black King was just playing with them.

It swung its sword.

A single, effortless motion.

The arrows split in two the instant they made contact, detonating in flashes of mana.

Then—those abyssal eyes turned toward Five.

5 froze in place, the pressure pushing down on him.

However, Lindarion moved without hesitation.

His body blurred as he stepped in front of the king, unleashing a storm of slashes while 5 fired again.

The Black King didn’t even flinch.

’I won’t let them all die. I can’t. I have to give it everything I have—we must win.’

Blood began dripping from Lindarion’s arms.

The others noticed.

Twelve hesitated, eyes widening.

"Blood Manipulation…?"

The thick crimson pooled at his feet, then rose into the air—twisting, shifting.

Swords.

Countless blood-forged swords.

’Now.’

With a flick of his wrist, Lindarion hurled them toward the Black King.

It moved.

Swift. Precise. Effortless.

Like a dancer who had honed their craft over centuries.

Every blade missed.

Lindarion closed the distance again, his sword carving through the air.

Arrows rained toward the King—dodged.

Eight’s spear lunged—deflected.

Twelve’s blade slashed—parried.

Even together, they couldn’t break through.

Like striking at an unbreakable mountain.

Then—

The Black King… sighed?

A slow, disappointed exhale.

As if it had grown bored.

And space—

shattered.

Lindarion barely had time to react before a thunderous crash shook the chamber.

His eyes darted to the source of the sound as Five’s body hit the ground.

Two halves of it.

THUD.

Blood sprayed across the stone floor, painting it red.

It pooled like a crimson fountain.

Lindarion’s breath caught in his throat. His stomach twisted.

The Black King shook its blade once—flinging the blood away.

Like it was filth.

’You fucking son of a bitch.’

[Shadow Step, Mana Shot]

Lindarion vanished.

He forced every last drop of mana into his palm.

He reappeared behind the Black King.

This time—

The monster was too slow to react. No, it was more like it didn’t even want to bother reacting.

However, he was mistaken.

CRACK.

The dark armor cracked.

The Black King stilled.

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Then—

It turned. It was a sudden swift motion without hesitation.

It launched a kick toward Lindarion.

He barely had time to raise his arms before the impact sent him flying.

A searing pain exploded in his limbs.

He crashed, tumbling across the stone floor.

A ragged scream tore from his throat.

The others charged.

This time, they weren’t frozen in fear.

This time, they fought.