Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 164: Cave

The path had stopped pretending to be a trail.

Loose rock scattered under his boots, thin patches of snow clinging to the edge like regret. Wind slammed sideways, colder than it had any right to be. Not even dramatic, just mean.

Lindarion pulled his scarf higher over his mouth.

'Lovely. Freezing, blind, and upright only by stubbornness. A perfect hike.'

Lira walked ahead, silent as always. Her steps didn't slip. Didn't scrape. Just existed. Like the wind hadn't gotten around to noticing her yet.

Ren muttered something behind him about frostbite and poor life choices.

Meren had stopped talking completely. Which was probably a bad sign.

The clouds were closing fast. Not a gentle curtain. More like a ceiling dropping low, shoving the air down with it.

Snow turned sideways. Visibility cut in half.

Then halved again.

Lindarion blinked hard. He could barely see Lira now.

She raised one hand and pointed toward the cliff wall.

It didn't look like anything at first. Just more rock. Then the wind shifted, and part of it moved.

Not rock.

An opening.

Barely a crack in the side of the mountain, narrow and rimmed in ice like it didn't want to be touched.

Ardan pushed Meren forward. Ren didn't wait. She ducked inside first.

Lindarion followed, one hand braced along the stone, the other ready if something jumped out and decided this was its dramatic entrance.

Nothing did.

Inside, it wasn't warm. But it was still. Which was better.

Lira was the last in. She stayed near the entrance, scanning the wind like she could physically hold it back.

Lindarion leaned against the wall and finally let out a breath.

'Congratulations. We've upgraded from hypothermia to suspense.'

Ren sat near the far edge, shaking snow out of her hood like a soaked dog. "Ten seconds more and I would've started screaming."

"You still might," Meren mumbled. "I'm pretty sure I lost three toes."

"Don't worry," Lindarion said, settling onto the stone. "We'll bury them with honor."

Ardan gave him a look. Not amused. Just exhausted.

The cavern went deeper than it looked. Just a few steps in, the air shifted again. Not warm, but less sharp. The kind of cold that held its breath.

He stepped in a little further, fire affinity humming quiet and obedient under his skin.

Just in case.

Lira finally spoke. "We wait out the storm here. Then move."

Lindarion nodded once. Not because he agreed. Just because he was too tired to argue.

He crouched, pulled his coat tighter, and let his back rest against the cavern wall.

'Just a storm. Just a break. Then we keep walking.'

He didn't trust the quiet.

But he'd take it.

—

The cavern didn't creak. It breathed.

Not literally. He wasn't hallucinating yet. But it had that kind of sound. Not wind, not air. Just depth. A soft, slow exhale that seemed to come from nowhere.

Lindarion stood again. His knees didn't agree, but they didn't argue too hard.

The fire affinity pulsed once at his fingertips as he let a thread of flame hover above his palm. Not large. Just enough to light the space around him in a warm, steady glow.

"Anyone coming?" he asked.

Ren raised a hand from where she sat. "If I freeze to death, you're all going to owe me emotionally."

"That's not how death works," Meren said without moving.

Ardan was already up, eyes scanning the darker end of the cave.

Lira didn't answer. She just started walking.

Lindarion followed.

The entrance had narrowed behind them, a sharp triangle cut into the mountain like someone had taken a bite out of it. But once inside, the space opened up faster than it had any right to.

Wide steps of stone, uneven and slick in places, led downward. No markings. No torch brackets. No signs anyone had ever stood here before.

He didn't like that.

Too clean.

Too quiet.

Still, the fire in his hand held. No flicker. No pull. Which meant the air wasn't damp. Or corrupted. Or cursed.

Small victories.

Ardan muttered something under his breath about formations. Probably didn't mean to say it out loud.

Lindarion kept moving.

The walls were sharp in places. Like the rock hadn't fully decided if it wanted to be a cave or a jaw.

"Bet you ten coons this used to be a tunnel," Ren said behind him.

"You don't have ten coins," Lindarion said.

"I'm good for it emotionally."

"That's not how currency works either."

They stepped onto a broader shelf of stone. The air shifted again. Colder near the floor.

Lindarion glanced at the wall beside him. Long, pale striations cut through the rock like veins. Not crystal. Not quartz. Something duller. And unfamiliar.

He didn't touch it.

Lira moved closer to the wall. Her fingers hovered, never quite making contact.

Then she turned slightly. "This wasn't natural."

Ardan nodded. "Collapsed in. Not carved. But someone reinforced it later."

Meren squinted. "How do you even know that?"

"I pay attention."

"To rocks?"

"Yes."

"Sounds fake."

Lindarion tuned them out.

The trail sloped again. A narrow descent carved into the cavern wall. No handrails. No safety enchantments. Just faith in your balance and whatever gods you hadn't annoyed recently.

He stepped carefully.

Boots scraped against worn stone, the grit underneath grinding like old teeth.

The cavern opened again at the base of the slope.

Wider now.

The ceiling disappeared into darkness. Even the fire didn't reach it.

The walls curved outward. Not evenly. Just enough to make the space feel larger than it looked.

Ren stepped beside him and whistled. "This place is creepier than Ardan's social skills."

Ardan didn't dignify that with a response.

Lindarion narrowed his eyes. Something across the floor glinted.

He knelt. Ran his fingers just above the stone.

Scorch marks.

Not fresh. Not old either.

Magic.

Someone had used it here.

He didn't speak yet. Just stood slowly. Let the light from his fire spill wider.

Dust moved in the air like it had been waiting for them to notice.

"Someone's been here," he said finally.

Lira turned. "How long ago?"

He shook his head. "Can't tell. But not ancient."

"Great," Ren muttered. "Love that for us."

Meren crouched near one of the blackened spots. "I'm voting we go back and pretend we never saw this."

"You don't get a vote," Ardan said. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"I never get a vote," Meren grumbled.

Lindarion's gaze swept the chamber again.

No signs of battle. No bones. No torn cloth. Just that one trace of mana burn.

Then another.

He stepped left. Narrow groove scorched into the stone like someone had dragged a scorching body sideways.

Then one more.

Circular. Like the base of a rune had been set down and lifted again.

"Something was sealed here," he said softly.

Lira's eyes met his.

No one else spoke for a moment.

Ren broke the silence with a sigh. "Let me guess. We're camping here now."

"Only until the storm passes," Lira said.

"Right. Because obviously, this is a safe cave."

Lindarion didn't answer.

He stood in the center of the burn marks. Let the heat in his hand flare slightly.

The flame didn't flicker.

No residual magic.

Whatever had happened here was finished.

But not forgotten.

'If I get dragged into another ancient disaster like last time I was in a cave, I'm blaming the weather.'

He closed his hand. The fire winked out.

"Let's rest," he said. "But we post watches."

Ardan nodded once.

Meren groaned.

Ren didn't object, which was rare enough to count as a sign.

Lira's eyes never left the far wall.

Lindarion sat against the stone again, arms crossed over his knees, listening to the quiet of a cavern that had definitely seen more interesting days than today.

It could stay boring.

He hoped it would.