[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-reincarnated-as-an-elf-prince":3,"chapter-reincarnated-as-an-elf-prince-reincarnated-as-an-elf-prince-chapter-116":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Reincarnated as an Elf Prince",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":20,"prevChapterSlug":21,"totalChapters":22,"novelImage":23},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":16,"volume":17,"translator":18,"content_hash":19},267645,538,"Chapter 116 116: Travel (2)","reincarnated-as-an-elf-prince-chapter-116",116,"\u003Cp>The charm didn't move again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It hung crooked on the line, still catching faint gusts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shifted his weight by inches. Left knee ground deeper into frozen needles. Right hand stayed loose across the blade hilt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Breath shallow. Controlled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He watched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Waited.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dark thickened. Not true night. Just enough to make the trees bleed into each other. Enough to lose depth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Snow dusted down in light spits. Barely touched the ground before vanishing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He blinked slow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eyelids heavier than he wanted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Stay awake.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He bit the inside of his cheek. Felt the blood come up. Coppery. Sharp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Better than sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He adjusted the scarf higher. Let it cover the raw edge of skin under his jaw.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still no sound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still no movement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The cold worked past the coat now. Seeped under the collar, along his ribs. Fine tremors touched his fingers. Not enough to matter yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He breathed against the cloth. Slow. Careful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The blade stayed across his knees.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The charm hung steady.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A shift.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not a sound exactly. More a pressure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A touch to the air itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Small.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Precise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The twine pulled. Less than an inch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The charm tipped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hit the stick with a sound too small for human ears.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he heard it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was already moving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Weight forward. Blade drawn. Body low. Center of gravity tucked near the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nothing broke the silence. No cry. No curse. No clumsy footfalls in the brush.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whoever it was had felt the trap snap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And they froze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Smart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He kept still too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Breath held.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The snow absorbed sound like cloth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seconds bled out, slow and heavy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He scanned the treeline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shapes blurred. Branches. Hollow trunks. Long shadows of stone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No figure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No gleam of eye or steel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He waited.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heartbeat slow. Barely a pulse against the side of his throat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Close. Way closer than before.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The way the charm had fallen, it had been a rightward pull.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pivoted slightly. Blade low to the earth. Elbow tight to his ribs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The cold gnawed at his side where the old wound hadn't closed fully. A dampness there. Not bleeding yet. But waiting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He let the pain settle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let it anchor him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another shift in the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tiny.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A breath drawn too sharp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A boot pivoted slow against snow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Close. Thirty feet maybe. Maybe less.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He adjusted his stance. Let the blade tilt, not flash.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No light to catch the metal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He closed his eyes a moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Listened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure wasn't rushing. Wasn't even retreating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hovering at the edge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Testing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Same as him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He opened his eyes again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The snow between them looked flat. Harmless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It lied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought about calling out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>About drawing them into mistake.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Decided against it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'No words. Not yet.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shifted his left foot. Quarter-inch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Closer to the center line of the trunk he crouched against.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Better cover.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade balanced lightly across his right thigh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The cold ate into his legs now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not a tremor yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But close.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could feel the burn gathering at the base of his spine. The kind of fatigue that did not speak loud. Just waited to take.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He breathed against the scarf again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soft. Measured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure in the trees moved a fraction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The way snow dampened the crackle said they were light. Not fully armored. Not a heavy fighter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Scout. Or mage. Or worse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Someone trained…?'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another heartbeat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A crow called from somewhere distant. Not close enough to be warning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pressed the back of his hand against the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Snow had hardened here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No real cover if it came to a charge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he could force it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Force the angle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Force them into open ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shifted the blade in his grip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Grip high.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shorten the swing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Save the core for last.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It still felt like broken glass inside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he tried to draw on it now, the backlash would tear him apart before he hit the first note.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't move yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Didn't even breathe harder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Waited.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Let them make the first noise.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The charm had fallen to the side now, half-buried in snow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A silver glint. Still.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rhea's stupid charm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Somehow, it mattered now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another footfall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Softer this time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cautious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moving left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Circling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Smart bastard.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He let his knees flex.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let his balance shift.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure kept circling. Trying to find the gap. The weakness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not knowing he had already found them first.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He breathed once more into the scarf.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Short. Steady.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eyes narrowed against the cold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Closer.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another shift of weight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another break in the pattern of snow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fifteen feet now. Maybe less.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gripped the blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And he moved first.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Weight low. Blade forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The snow gave under his boots. Shallow crunch. Nothing loud.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He came at an angle. Forced the line tighter. Closed the open ground between them faster than the figure expected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure jerked back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hesitation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was the only mistake.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lindarion drove the point forward. Not a thrust. Just a hard step to make space collapse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure recovered fast. Duck. Slide back on the off foot. Cloak swinging close to the ground. No sound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Trained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Better.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pivoted, dragging the blade across the lower line of attack. A defensive slice. Not a full cut. Not meant to connect. Meant to test.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure moved with it. Glided backward toward a patch of broken roots.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Light on their feet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shorter than him by a little. Stocky frame. Covered in dark fabric. Hood low.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No clear glint of weapon yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He followed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Measured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each step timed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He let the blade lower again. Kept it loose. Opened the stance slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Invitation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure shifted weight onto the forward leg.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Testing too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Smart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gripped the blade tighter. Loose wrap across the hilt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure darted forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Low angle. No cry. No shout.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A glint at their side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Short, curved. Not meant for slashing. Meant for puncture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They struck at the ribs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned into it. Let the blade scrape shallow across the coat. Felt the tug at the old wound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pain flared. Sharp. Bright.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He ignored it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pivoted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Countered with a low elbow across the figure's shoulder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Connection solid. Bone jar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure staggered half a step. Regained footing fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No opening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't chase.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let them recover.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Measured the distance again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Both breathing light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Controlled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They circled once.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Twice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each looking for the faultline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each refusing to give it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shifted the blade back to a high guard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Short grip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No flourish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The cold gnawed at his wrist now. Dull pain across the back of the hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure moved first this time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A feint.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Right step. Dip of the shoulder. Flash of blade high.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't take it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let the motion pass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Stepped to the side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let them overextend.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure corrected fast. No stumble. Sharp pivot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He smiled behind the scarf.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Small. Bitter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Good. Better that way.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The gap widened again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fifteen feet. Breath hanging between them. Shallow clouds. Two animals locked without noise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'So he isn't a mage..?'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shifted weight back onto his heels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lowered the blade half an inch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure mirrored him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A test of patience now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He felt the old pain gnaw at his side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ignored it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The charm around his neck bumped once against his sternum with each breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still warm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure crouched lower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade reversed now. Held backhanded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Trying to rush.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't move.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Didn't blink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Waited.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The forest around them stayed still.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The moment stretched thin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another second.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Movement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure moved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A sprint over short snow. Blade low. Shoulders tight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shifted stance. No flourish. Just balance. Tight grip. Left foot forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure closed the gap in four strides.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aiming high now. Throat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He dropped low.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Weight into the knees.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade snapped upward. Short arc.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure twisted midstep. Blade skimmed Lindarion's shoulder. Caught coat, not skin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He twisted with them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drove a shoulder into the figure's ribs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Solid contact. Not enough to break anything. Enough to stagger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He kept moving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No time for a second hit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure spun. Recovered fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Short blade flashed in a tight hook toward his side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pulled the coat tighter. Let the blade catch the fold instead of skin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fabric tore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pain licked along the old wound. Not deep. Not yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He ignored it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pivoted off his back foot. Let the momentum carry him sideways.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cold air burned his lungs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure advanced.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No hesitation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Good footwork. Kept weight low. Right hand blade. Left hand loose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No visible magic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Or hiding it well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He breathed against the scarf. Shallow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The distance between them snapped closed again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A clash of grips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Steel struck against steel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not a loud sound. Just a dull hit, muted by frost and fabric.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure tried to drive him back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tight steps. Blade pressing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave ground carefully. Quarter-inch at a time. No panic. No stumble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let them think they were winning space.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The charm inside his coat bumped against his ribs again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each heartbeat slower now. Measured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure feinted left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't take it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shifted weight onto his back leg.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let them overcommit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade angle wrong. Overexposed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He moved in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Small step. Barely more than a breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade snapped up. Caught the inside of their forearm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not deep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it bled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A dark line against pale skin where the sleeve ripped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure hissed low.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More instinct than anger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They jumped back. Reset stance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stayed still.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Breath calm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade steady.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He watched the blood bead and fall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Small drops. Quick.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not a huge wound. Not enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But a mark.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'I'll cut you down sooner or later.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure flexed the hand once. Testing grip. Still strong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't want it easy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rolled his shoulder once. The cut on his side burned bright. Not fatal. Not yet slowing him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The forest around them stayed silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the birds had given up on sound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure circled again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Smaller now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Less confident.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Measured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shifted his feet. Blade tip low. Ready.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blood dripped between them. Spattered dark across the crusted snow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Neither spoke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Words were useless here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only movement mattered.\u003C\u002Fp>",1694,"2026-05-29T17:03:12.824Z","2026-06-01T04:29:47.183Z",1,"novelbin.me","d5eb77c2e4aaf15eb9237e5c466808440111f9d082f43dc927cacd6f8363df62","reincarnated-as-an-elf-prince-chapter-117","reincarnated-as-an-elf-prince-chapter-115",564,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Freincarnated-as-an-elf-prince-cover.jpg"]