Reincarnated as an Elf Prince-Chapter 46: First Human Kill

Lindarion’s dark cloak was drenched in blood.

The man at his feet lay motionless, a chain piercing clean through his skull.

His stomach churned. His vision blurred. His entire body trembled as nausea took over.

Then—

He vomited.

"Pathetic."

Erebus’ voice was as cold as ever, watching as the chain slithered back from the corpse and coiled beneath his cloak.

Without hesitation, he grabbed another prisoner and dragged him forward.

"They’re all killers. Condemned to death. They don’t deserve anything better."

The man thrashed in Erebus’ grip, terror twisting his features.

"P-Please! Please, let me go!"

"Let you go?" Erebus scoffed. "Fine."

He ripped the chains from the prisoner’s wrists and shoved a dagger into his palm.

Lindarion wiped his mouth, still breathing heavily. His eyes flicked from the man to Erebus.

’What is he doing?’

The prisoner froze, staring at the weapon in disbelief, his breath hitching.

"Kill the boy, and you’re free."

The room fell into chaos.

The other prisoners shouted, some pleading, some jeering, but Lindarion barely heard them.

’What?’

He met the man’s gaze.

Tear-streaked brown eyes. Short, messy hair. His lips trembled, his entire body shaking.

"Kill or be killed."

Erebus’ voice cut through the noise like a blade.

Lindarion’s mind reeled.

’Is he for real..?’

"Wait a second—"

Then—

The prisoner lunged.

Lindarion’s body moved before his thoughts could catch up.

His foot shot out. A single strike to the chest.

The man flew backward, crashing to the ground with a strangled cry. Blood pooled at the corners of his lips—some of his ribs were probably shattered.

"Agh—"

The prisoner coughed violently, his limbs twitching as he tried to focus on Lindarion through the haze of pain.

Lindarion exhaled.

Steady steps carried him forward.

His stomach twisted, his mind warring with itself, but he kept moving.

’I have to.’

Lindarion thought as the man groaned, struggling to rise.

The man forced himself to his feet. He had no choice.

Neither of them did.

"I’m sorry."

Lindarion’s voice wavered.

Then—

A single flash of his sword cut through the air.

A clean, precise arc.

And the prisoner’s head left his shoulders.

One second. One motion.

The first human life Lindarion had ever taken.

Warm blood splattered across his hands, his blade, his cloak.

The corpse hit the ground with a dull thud, painting the stone red.

Lindarion’s breath hitched. His vision narrowed. His stomach churned violently—

And he doubled over, retching again.

Suddenly—

A slow, deliberate clap echoed.

Erebus stepped forward.

"Congratulations on your first kill."

Lindarion wiped his mouth with the back of his trembling hand. His body felt cold, yet his skin burned.

Erebus said nothing. With a flick of his wrist, his fingers pressed against Lindarion’s forehead—

The world shattered.

The suffocating prison vanished, replaced by towering trees and a golden sky. Sunlight streamed through the leaves, painting the forest floor in shifting patterns. Birds chirped. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers.

It was beautiful. Peaceful.

Lindarion collapsed to his knees—

And vomited..again.

A bitter taste coated his tongue, but it paled in comparison to the sensation clawing at his chest.

’I killed someone..’

His fingers dug into the dirt, his breath uneven, hands trembling.

Erebus sighed. "You’ll get used to it."

Lindarion’s body jerked. He slowly lifted his head, eyes wide with disbelief.

’Get used to it?’

His stomach twisted violently, but nothing was left to throw up.

"Why…?" His voice was barely more than a whisper. "Why did I have to do that?"

Erebus tilted his head slightly, dark eyes empty. "Hm?"

Then, he crouched in front of him, forcing Lindarion to meet his gaze.

"A soldier who cannot kill is nothing but a liability."

A shadow fell over Lindarion’s face.

His fingers twitched.

Erebus’ voice was lower when he spoke again—colder. "Or would you rather watch your comrades die because of your weakness?"

The words slashed through the fog clouding Lindarion’s thoughts.

There was no mockery in Erebus’ tone, well, not right now. No disdain either.

Just… truth.

Lindarion’s lips parted, but no words came.

’He’s right.’

If he hesitated—if he wavered—he would become nothing more than a burden.

His gaze dropped to the sword in his hands.

Dark crimson clung to it.

Nausea twisted his stomach. Lindarion sucked in slow, shaky breaths, forcing himself to steady his breathing.

’Get a grip. The world isn’t ending. I’m still alive. Everything will be fine…’

Erebus clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"Get up. This is only the beginning."

His tone was as cold as ever—flat, detached. He didn’t care about Lindarion’s pain. He didn’t care about his emotions.

Lindarion swallowed.

’…Seriously?’

His arms trembled as he pushed himself to his feet, legs unsteady beneath him. His head was spinning, his chest tight. But when he met Erebus’ gaze—

Abyssal.

That was the only word for it.

Erebus’ eyes were like twin voids, bottomless and devouring.

"What do you want from me now…?"

His voice was quiet. Hollow.

The light in his eyes—once so fierce, so bright—was beginning to flicker.

Erebus smirked. "We’re going bounty hunting."

Lindarion’s breath caught.

’Bounty… hunting?’

His mind sluggishly processed the words.

Erebus pressed his palm against Lindarion’s forehead.

The world twisted. Reality tore apart at the seams—

Then, darkness.

When Lindarion blinked, they were somewhere new. A narrow alley, damp and shadowed.

Erebus snapped his fingers. The blood-staining Lindarion’s robe vanished.

’…’

Lindarion searched for Erebus’ eyes beneath his hood, but the man’s gaze remained obscured.

"Move. Follow me."

Cold. Commanding.

Lindarion hesitated for only a moment before trailing behind him.

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Two hooded figures, walking the streets in broad daylight.

Completely inconspicuous.

As they stepped out of the alley, heads turned. Some people whispered, and some simply stared.

The city or whatever it was seemed alive with noise and motion. Stalls lined the streets, vendors shouting, and customers haggling. A bustling marketplace.

’Where… are we?’

Families walked past them. Parents, children, ordinary people living their ordinary lives.

And then there was them.

They slipped into a modest-looking building, its wooden door creaking as it shut behind them. The air inside was still.

Wanted posters covered the walls. Bounty listings, names, faces, and rewards are scrawled beneath them.

A bar counter sat at the center of the room. Only a handful of tables and chairs occupied the space.

Behind the counter stood a man.

Neatly dressed, his black hair slicked back, he wiped a glass with slow, practiced motions.

His smile was warm.

Too warm.

"Good day, gentlemen. How can I be of service?"

There was something… wrong about his tone. A smoothness that sent a prickle down Lindarion’s spine.