Reincarnated as an Elf Prince

The classroom was quiet.

Not the expectant silence of a class hanging onto their instructor's every word—but the sluggish, dull kind that came from boredom. From students who had already decided this was going to be another long, uneventful lecture.

Lindarion wasn't one of them.

Unlike the others, who were half-slumped in their seats or fighting back yawns, he sat still—eyes fixed on the massive, aged map spread across the front of the room.

He didn't know much about human geography here…

And if there was one thing Lindarion cared about as much as magic, it was understanding the world he lived in.

Power wasn't just about magic—it was about knowing where power was held.

At the front of the room, an older man adjusted his glasses, stacking a few dusty scrolls on his desk before looking up at the class.

He wasn't particularly intimidating.

His robes were simple, practical, without the unnecessary details of nobles who wanted to look important.

But his eyes?

They were sharp. Too sharp for someone so easily dismissed.

The kind of sharpness that suggested he had long stopped caring whether his students respected him.

After a moment, he finally spoke.

"I am Professor Rodric Fausten."

His voice was steady, even, carrying the weight of long years of teaching.

"I have been an instructor at this academy for thirty-four years."

A pause.

No dramatic flourish. No attempt to command the room.

Just a fact.

And yet, somehow, the students listened.

Lindarion noted the way some students barely reacted— how some had already started to drift off, treating this class like a minor inconvenience.

They were idiots.

Because a man who had survived this long in an academy that valued strength above all else?

Was not someone to be ignored.

Professor Fausten adjusted his glasses and turned toward the massive map, his fingers tapping lightly against the parchment.

"Today," he said, "we will be reviewing the geography of Elarion."

Lindarion's gaze followed the motion.

Elarion.

The human continent.

Not three separate kingdoms.

Not divided nations constantly at war.

One land.

One ruler.

Professor Fausten's chalk moved smoothly across the board, outlining three major regions.

"These are the three territories that make up our kingdom," he said. "Ruled under the banner of High King Leonhardt Valerian."

Lindarion's fingers curled slightly against his desk.

He only knew a little about Elarion. Not too many specifics.

He had known that humans were different from the elves. The elven continent was completely divided into multiple parts, with each part being a different kingdom and a different ruler.

But the humans, they had one ruler over an entire continent.

It kind of made sense why some hypocrite humans looked down on the elves, however it was still unacceptable. Of course, not every human was like that.

'So he holds that much power huh?'

Lionhardt Valerian seemed to be way stronger than he had expected..

Professor Fausten tapped the northernmost region.

"Everhallow. The capital of Velmora."

Lindarion's brows furrowed.

'That name…'

Lindarion remembered the training camp he had been in for a little bit.

"The military stronghold of Elarion," the professor continued.

"The backbone of our kingdom's army. It is home to our greatest warriors, our most disciplined soldiers, and the foundation of our High King's strength."

Lindarion knew that name already, the training camp was residing exactly there.

His hand gestured toward another country, its name written with a bold style.

"Veldoria."

"The industrial core of Elarion," he said. "Veldoria is not built for war—it is built for production."

Lindarion's brows furrowed slightly.

'Production?'

"It is the foundation upon which the kingdom's economy thrives," Fausten continued. "It supplies weapons, armor, ships, and arcane technology to support Velmora's armies."

His hand tapped the capital.

"Eldenholm is its capital."

"The largest trade city in Elarion," he said, "and home to the royal palace."

Lindarion's head tilted slightly.

'So this was where Leonhardt Valerian ruled from.'

Not from the military capital, not from the richest city, but from the center of it all.

Professor Fausten moved once more, tapping the northernmost region.

"Caldris."

"The coldest and most isolated region in Elarion," he said. "Unlike Velmora and Veldoria, Caldris does not fight wars. Nor does it forge weapons."

He tapped the capital city.

"Solhaven."

The professor seemed to sigh.

"The final city before the endless tundra," he continued. "A land of merchants, scholars, and trade guilds."

Lindarion's gaze followed the markings on the map. Markings of caves, woods, whatever a person could imagine.

"Caldris isn't known for war or production… but it has wealth. Not just gold, but something far more valuable. Resources, students."

He leaned against the board, his fingers softly tapping against its surface.

"Rare minerals. Mana-infused products... Perhaps even artifacts buried beneath the frozen wastes. It doesn't need the strength of Velmora or the scholars of Veldoria."

Lindarion started putting the picture together as the professor continued.

"Because it has something both of them need. It has leverage."

'So that's how it is.'

Professor Fausten finally set the chalk down.

"These three territories," he said, "form the backbone of our kingdom."

Then—

He turned, lifting a single piece of chalk once more.

And, in bold, precise strokes, he wrote the name that ruled over them all.

"Leonhardt Valerian."

The weight of the name settled over the room..Vivienne seemed to adjust in her seat as the professor mentioned his father's name.

Professor Fausten's gaze swept the class.

"You all know the name," he said. "You all know who he is."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"What you don't know," he continued, "is why the balance of these three territories is more fragile than it seems."

Lindarion's gaze remained on the name Leonhardt Valerian, boldly written across the board.

The one man who ruled over three entire nations.

Professor Fausten turned back to the massive map, tapping it lightly with his chalk.

"The three territories of Elarion form the foundation of our kingdom," he said.

Then—

He tapped it again.

"But that foundation is far from unshakable. As I have said. It's fragile"

Lindarion narrowed his eyes slightly.

From the corner of his vision, he saw Cassian shift uncomfortably and Vivienne seemed to be uncomfortable in her seat.

Even Luneth—who had been eerily still the entire time—tilted her head slightly, as if listening more intently.

Professor Fausten gestured toward the easternmost territory.

"Velmora."

"The greatest military force in Elarion," he said. "And the most restless."

Lindarion frowned slightly.

'Restless?'

"Velmora produces warriors," Fausten continued. "It thrives on battle, on discipline, on conquest. But tell me—"

His gaze swept the class, expectant.

"How do you keep an army sharp if there is no war to fight?"

Silence.

Then—slowly—understanding settled in.

Lindarion exhaled softly.

Velmora was built for war.

At first, the idea of an army without war didn't seem dangerous.

But then—

A thought struck him. An army with no enemies to fight…

'Would they start looking inward?'

Professor Fausten nodded, as if reading their thoughts.

"There have been no major wars in over a decade," he said. "Which means Velmora's generals, knights, and commanders have been left without purpose."

He tapped the region again, his voice quiet.

"Armies without purpose do not remain loyal for long."

A few students stiffened.

Lindarion's fingers curled slightly against his desk.

That meant dissatisfaction.

That meant potential rebellion.

He had never thought about how dangerous peace could be for a nation built on war.

Professor Fausten let that sink in for a moment before moving to the center of the map.

"Veldoria."

"The industrial core of Elarion," he said. "And yet—the most vulnerable."

Lindarion's brows furrowed.

'How can the economic center be the weakest?'

As if answering his unspoken question, Professor Fausten tapped Eldenholm.

"The capital city," he said. "And the seat of the High King's power."

His grip on the chalk tightened slightly.

"But power does not come without a cost."

The room was silent.

Even the students who had been half asleep earlier were now completely alert.

"Veldoria is strong," the professor continued. "But its strength is unnatural. It does not produce soldiers. It does not have great military academies. It does not control vast resources."

His voice lowered slightly.

"It simply holds all the money."

Lindarion's thoughts raced.

Veldoria wasn't strong on its own.

It was only strong because of the two nations that relied on it.

Which meant—

'If either Velmora or Caldris ever decided to stop supporting the throne…'

The entire kingdom would collapse.

Professor Fausten exhaled softly.

"The High King holds the kingdom together through wealth, alliances, and influence. But that kind of power? It is not absolute."

Lindarion leaned back slightly in his seat.

He was starting to see it now.

This wasn't stability.

It was a balancing act.

A fragile, dangerous game where one wrong move could send the entire kingdom crashing down.

Professor Fausten moved again, this time to the northernmost region.

"Caldris."

"The most isolated of the three nations," he said. "And the most unpredictable."

Lindarion's gaze flickered to Solhaven, its capital.

Caldris wasn't known for its armies.

Nor was it known for its factories or forges.

But it had something far more valuable.

Rare minerals. Ancient artifacts buried beneath the tundra.

Resources that both Velmora and Veldoria depended on.

Professor Fausten tapped the region again.

"Caldris does not require the High King's protection," he said. "It does not rely on Velmora's warriors or Veldoria's economy."

A slow, knowing pause.

"If Caldris were to ever withdraw from the kingdom entirely…"

Lindarion's breath hitched slightly.

It would send everything into chaos.

No weapons. No armor. No magical resources to power Elarion's war machines.

The entire foundation of the kingdom would begin to crumble.

The realization settled over him like a weight.

This wasn't just a kingdom.

This was a house of cards.

Held together by a single ruler, a single balance of power that could be shattered at any moment.

Professor Fausten finally set his chalk down.

"This," he said, his voice calm but firm, "is the reality of our kingdom."

His gaze swept the class.

And when he spoke next, his voice was quiet.

"But the question is…"

His eyes glinted slightly.

"How long can it last?"

Lindarion exhaled slowly.

He suddenly had a very bad feeling about the future of Elarion.