Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 57: Sylric Lirandel

Lindarion woke up the next morning without a problem. The bedding was incredible, soft enough to swallow him whole like an endless night… though, of course, not quite as comfortable as it was at the palace.

He sat up and slowly put on his uniform. It slid onto him effortlessly, like butter on warm bread—fitting perfectly but still loose enough to be comfortable. The fabric was flawless to the touch.

’Not bad.’

The uniform resembled a blazer, though not quite. The only glaring difference? A huge white number 1 engraved on the right side of the chest, practically screaming for attention.

He strapped his sword to his belt, it looked perfect. Like a small decoration adding a little detail to his simple uniform.

’They could’ve made it a little smaller… maybe a lot smaller.’

Shaking his head, Lindarion left his room at a relaxed pace.

’Hm?’

Students were rushing down the hallways, their hurried footsteps echoing off the academy walls. He looked up at the clock at the end of the corridor.

’…You’ve got to be kidding me.’

He was almost late. If he wanted to make it to class on time, he had to step on it. Less than ten minutes left. The countdown had begun.

Without hesitation, he started following the students running ahead of him.

’I should be fine.’

Effortlessly, he caught up with them in no time and soon found himself before the grand academy. Its architecture was bathed in dark hues, giving off an aura reminiscent of the night itself.

’Seems perfect, exactly my style.’

He shook his head again and rushed inside, scanning for Classroom 1. After all, he was in Class One—the supposed best of the best.

After a short search, he stopped before a door marked with two bold number ones. One for the year, one for the class.

But there was one problem.

It was too quiet inside.

’That’s suspicious for a classroom..even if it’s the best of the best students of the first years…’

Slowly, he pushed the door open and stepped in.

The classroom was almost full. The number of desks was… concerning. In fact, there were far fewer than he expected. Massive windows lined the walls, framed by luxurious black-and-white curtains, giving the room a sophisticated atmosphere.

At the front stood a small podium and an enormous chalkboard.

The moment he stepped in, every student turned to look at him.

’They are staring so openly.’

Ignoring the gazes, he casually looked around for a seat—preferably in the back. Lindarion had been an enthusiastic student in his past life.

…Or not.

Not at all.

He settled next to a white-haired girl with striking blue eyes, who was quietly gazing out the window as if nothing in the world could bother her.

’This is the perfect place.’

Just as he got comfortable, a familiar figure walked in.

Silver-white hair flowing dramatically behind her—despite the complete lack of wind.

Lindarion and Luneth locked eyes.

Then, without hesitation, Luneth walked straight toward him.

’…’

Lindarion’s thoughts froze as he got a closer look at Luneth’s uniform. The female uniform.

It was completely different… at least on Luneth.

Wait… she chose to wear that?

Up until now, he hadn’t noticed because the girl beside him was wearing long pants. However Luneth was wearing a small skirt and some…big socks? Or thigh highs maybe…?

Without a word, Luneth sat down next to him. Now, the three of them sat in silence—Luneth staring forward, the girl still gazing out the window.

And Lindarion?

Stuck in the middle like an unwilling participant in a sandwich.

Defeated, he sighed inwardly.

Then—

BAM!

The door slammed open.

No, it was basically kicked open as two guys—ones he had just overtaken earlier—came rushing in, panting.

’Right on time, they nearly got cooked.’

Immediately after them, a tall man walked in. Short black hair, an unkempt beard, and eyes barely visible beneath his messy bangs. He strolled toward the podium at an almost painfully slow pace, while the two latecomers quickly scrambled into their seats.

’So this is everyone. I’m assuming.’

The man exhaled heavily before tapping his fingers lazily on the podium.

"Haa… Twenty of you, huh? Alright, guess that means everyone’s here."

His voice was dull. Flat. Completely uninterested.

’He doesn’t even want to be here, does he?’

Lindarion propped his chin on his hand as the man thought.

And thought.

And continued thinking.

Students exchanged awkward glances. No one had a clue what was going on.

’This guy’s a teacher? Seriously?’

The man’s deadpan gaze slowly swept over the class. Then, with another sigh, he finally opened his mouth.

"I’m your… hmm…"

’…He has to be trolling, there is no way he is doing this normally.’

Lindarion glanced around. The other students were giving him the same look. Even the white-haired girl beside him—who had been perfectly calm up until now—was now staring, her blue eyes twitching in irritation.

Luneth, however, remained unmoved.

Cold. Unfazed. Completely indifferent.

After what felt like an eternity, the man finally continued.

Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.

"I’m your homeroom teacher… Sylric Lirandel. Homeroom teacher… yeah, I think that’s the right term?"

As soon as he finished, he yawned. Then, as if nothing had happened, he casually ran a hand through his messy hair.

His completely unimportant messy hair.

His sluggish gaze slowly crawled across the class… like a snail.

"So… today…"

A long pause.

Then, rubbing his eyes, he sighed again.

"…"

At this point, the students looked like they were about to explode.

Until—

A voice rang out beside Lindarion.

"Is he seriously not going to finish that sentence?!"

’…’

All eyes turned toward the source.

The white-haired girl, who was now leaning on her desk, a visible vein throbbing on her forehead.

She said what they were all thinking.

Lindarion, still resting his head on his hand, shifted his gaze back to their so-called professor.

Who, in response, simply scratched his beard.

Like nothing had just happened.

"Hm… uh… Elara Hargrave…right? Maybe keep it down a little?"

His tone was completely neutral as he looked at some papers in his hands. He seemed detached from the world. Like a child still figuring out how words worked.

’This has to be a joke. Is this seriously the best academy in the world?’

Lindarion’s eyes widened in disbelief.

And he wasn’t alone.

Meanwhile, Elara’s vein only pulsed harder. Any second now, it might just pop.

Sylric Lirandel blinked slowly, as if processing the situation at a glacial pace. His fingers lazily scratched his beard while his other hand rested on the podium in a way that screamed, I don’t want to be here.

Meanwhile, Elara was visibly shaking. The throbbing vein on her forehead looked like it was about to burst.

The tension in the room was unbearable.

Lindarion shifted uncomfortably in his seat. On his right, Luneth remained completely unmoved. On his left, Elara looked one second away from leaping onto the podium and shaking the life back into their so-called professor or homeroom teacher…whatever it was at this point

Then, just as the silence became unbearable, Sylric finally spoke.

"Right, so… what was I saying?"

A collective twitch ran through the class.

’He doesn’t even remember?’

Lindarion stared in sheer disbelief, as did nearly every other student in the room.

"You weren’t saying anything sir Sylric!" Elara snapped, finally losing her patience.

Sylric blinked again.

"Huh. That’s a problem."

"Yes it is a problem sir!"

Elara slammed her hands on her face.

Lindarion could almost hear the crack forming in her patience.

The other students, meanwhile, were somewhere between horrified and entertained. Some had started whispering to each other. Others just stared at Sylric like he was a rare species of idiot.

Sylric, for his part, just sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair again.

"Well, if I wasn’t saying anything, then I guess we should start class."

"You guess sir?!"

Elara looked like she was questioning every life choice that led her to this moment.

Ignoring her completely, Sylric grabbed a piece of chalk and lazily scribbled his name onto the board in large, looping letters.

Sylric Lirandel

Then, turning back to the class, he crossed his arms and nodded.

"Right. That’s how my name is spelt for…uh anyone wondering."

No one responded.

Silence.

Unbearable, awkward silence.

Lindarion slowly blinked, waiting for some kind of explanation.

Nothing came.

That was it.

That was the introduction.

The entire class just stared at him in silence.

"…And?" Someone finally said, breaking the silence.

Sylric frowned slightly, as if the student was the weird one.

"And what?"

"And what do you teach?!"

Another student protested.

A beat of silence.

Sylric looked genuinely caught off guard by the question. As if he hadn’t thought about it before.

Then, after a painfully long pause, he nodded to himself and said.

"Magic."

A long silence followed.

Elara’s fingers dug into her desk, her frustration boiling over.

"Magic what?" Lindarion asked from the back as heads turned towards him.

Sylric tilted his head slightly, as if the question confused him.

"Magic… things?"

’This guy…’

Lindarion exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples.

Somewhere in front of him, a student groaned in despair. Another muttered

"We’re doomed."

Even Luneth, who had remained indifferent up until now, briefly raised an eyebrow.

Meanwhile, Elara had reached her limit.

She stood up so fast that her chair nearly toppled over.

"Magic things? What does that even MEAN?!"

Sylric, unfazed, simply waved a hand.

"Relax….relax. I’ll figure it out, student Elara..."

"YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU TEACH SIR?!"

Sylric scratched his beard thoughtfully at Elara’s question.

"That’s a…strong accusation," he murmured.

"It’s not an accusation, it’s an observation!"

Another student chimed in as Sylric sighed dramatically, as if he was the one suffering.

"Alright, alright. Let’s not be so hasty my dear…students.. This is only the first day."

Elara looked like she was about to throw something at him. Or maybe throw herself out the window.

Lindarion, meanwhile, sank further into his seat, covering his face with his hand.

’This is going to be a long long year.’