Reincarnated as an Elf Prince
Chapter 279 - 279: Attack (1)

The hall outside Eldrin's study murmured with movement.

Soft steps. Polished boots on marble. The muffled shift of leather and armor, barely audible if you weren't trained to listen. But Eldrin heard it all.

He stayed where he was, framed by the wide window. Shoulders square, eyes still fixed on the sky. No commands shouted. No horns blown. This wasn't a siege. Not yet.

It was something worse.

A kind of waiting that didn't make sense.

Solrendel had seen its share of magic. Of threats. The great southern incursion two decades ago. The elemental wars before that. But those things had come from the ground. They'd come roaring, reckless, armies behind them.

Not this.

Not two silent figures hovering above the estate like they were watching a pond and waiting for a ripple.

A knock tapped gently behind him.

"Enter."

Seraphine stepped in, quiet and fast, silver half-cape moving with her.

"Guards are in position," she said. "Main balconies. Arched towers. Inner wall. All shielded and under silence protocols."

"Visible?"

"Visible enough to remind them they're not unopposed."

Eldrin nodded once.

He didn't ask for names again. Seraphine would've already checked the records. These weren't emissaries. No crests. No banners. Not even matching colors.

"I've sent a runner to the Evandrin cloister," she added. "If anything happens, the wards go up."

"Good."

She stood beside him now, her hand still resting near her belt, not threatening, just ready. Her eyes flicked up toward the floating pair, then narrowed faintly.

"They haven't moved."

"They're watching."

"Or stalling."

Eldrin exhaled slowly. 'For what?'

The taller one, the black-clad boy with the stillness of a drawn blade, hadn't moved at all. Not even to shift his weight in the air. It was unnatural.

Even celestial-born mages fidgeted in the air. Mana currents weren't static. But this one… he floated like the wind didn't dare touch him.

'He doesn't fight gravity. Gravity gives him space.'

The white-haired one, though…

He turned midair again, slow and leisurely, one hand brushing through the air like he was sifting mist. He leaned forward slightly, peering down at the grounds like he was admiring the topiary.

Then he smiled.

It was almost friendly.

Eldrin's jaw clenched, just slightly.

"Any reaction to the shields?" he asked.

"None. Either they don't care or they haven't noticed."

"Oh, they've noticed."

Seraphine's fingers twitched once near the hilt of her blade.

"You're thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That they're not here for posturing," Eldrin said. "Yes."

"And the smile?"

Eldrin didn't answer.

He didn't like guesses based on smiles. Smiles didn't mean much. Kings smiled before sending armies. Spies smiled right before poison hit the cup. Healers smiled to make the dying feel less alone.

This one's smile had no kindness.

Just familiarity.

The moon rose higher, casting a pale blue sheen across the rooftops.

The guards on the balcony below stood in formation now, five to each flank, dressed in deep green and silver, longbows slung across their backs. Eldrin had handpicked them. Veterans of the Southern Shield. Each one had held a line against elemental beasts and lived.

They didn't flinch.

They watched the sky.

One of them shifted, ever so slightly, nervous.

Eldrin couldn't blame him.

His eyes returned to the floating pair.

Still motionless.

Then, finally, the white-haired one moved.

No flash of light. No trail of mana. Just… a step.

He stepped forward into the air like there was solid ground beneath him.

The dark-haired one followed.

Both of them descended.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Not falling. Not flying.

Just… descending.

Like gravity had invited them.

Eldrin didn't move from the window.

Seraphine's hand settled fully on her hilt.

The guards below shifted stances.

No commands.

No words.

Because whatever was coming, whatever these two were—

It wasn't random.

And it wasn't here by mistake.

Eldrin's thoughts echoed once more, colder now:

'They came for something. Or someone.'

And they were almost here.

—

He stepped out onto the high balcony.

Not the one wrapped in banners and court ceremony.

The other one.

Stone floor, no railing, no audience. Just wind and sky. The kind of place meant for decisions.

The pressure was worse up here. The kind that pushed against the temples and made the bones feel older than they were. But Eldrin had stood in worse. He'd breathed in dragonfire and stormlight and come out steady. This wasn't the first time something unnatural tried to loom over his home.

He clenched his jaw, reached inward.

And the sun answered.

Not a roar. Not a blaze.

A steady bloom, deep in the center of his chest. Mana flickered outward like silent embers, gold coiling around his arms and shoulders. Not fire, not light, something between. Not the kind of thing most could touch without boiling themselves from the inside.

But he'd been born with it.

'We're not hiding today.'

He rose.

Feet left stone. The air lifted around him in a quiet swell. His cape rippled once, catching the sunrise behind his back.

Above the tower, the two intruders were waiting.

He didn't speak first.

Let them see him. Let them feel what they were hovering over. This wasn't just any estate.

It was Sunblade soil.

And he was still its king.

The white-haired one tilted his head. "You're quick. That's good."

Eldrin hovered five meters away, eyeing them both. White-hair was casual—too casual. The other… too still. Not in a disciplined way. In an unnatural way. Not stiff, but wrong.

"State your names," Eldrin said. His voice was even. "And why you've crossed my sky."

The white-haired one chuckled. "Maeven."

The name felt like a lie the way it passed his lips.

The other didn't introduce himself.

"Your friend doesn't speak?" Eldrin asked.

Maeven smiled. "He doesn't waste words. But since you're curious—he's called Dythrael."

Eldrin's mind didn't recognize it. But his gut did.

The way the sky warped subtly around Dythrael's outline. The way his mana didn't shimmer, didn't hum, but stilled everything around it.

'What are you.'

"And?" Eldrin asked, voice flat.

"We're here for a talk," Maeven said, drifting slightly closer, still hovering. "We don't need all this fanfare."

Eldrin didn't move. "Then land. And don't make my guards nervous."

Maeven's eyes glinted. "They're already nervous."

The silence stretched.

Then Dythrael moved.