Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man-Chapter 42: Mika Defeat

For five consecutive days, Eren met defeat at Mika’s hands. Each morning brought new humiliation as he pushed himself to the limit, believing victory was within reach, only to find himself flat on his back, staring at the sky. His punishments escalated—one hundred push-ups became two hundred as Commander Maria deemed his progress insufficient.

Each night, Eren returned to the training grounds where Viva taught him techniques unknown in his previous life. Her instruction was patient but demanding, pushing him further than he thought possible. Under the silver moonlight, she corrected his stance, adjusted his balance, demonstrated the flowing movements that made Thornvale warriors so formidable.

"The body remembers what the mind forgets," she told him one night, guiding his arm through a complex counter-strike. "Let your muscles learn the truth of combat."

On the sixth day, Eren arrived at the training grounds before dawn. The morning air carried a chill that seeped into his bones, but he welcomed it, using the discomfort to sharpen his focus. He had prepared differently this night—training until his muscles screamed, then meditating as the first hints of dawn touched the eastern sky.

He stood in the center of the arena, barefoot on the cool earth, eyes closed, breathing measured. The sun crested the horizon, bathing the training ground in golden light that caught the moisture in the air, creating a fleeting halo around his silhouette.

Footsteps approached—the familiar cadence of Commander Maria’s stride, accompanied by Mika’s lighter tread and Viva’s almost silent movements. Eren opened his eyes but remained motionless, centered in his purpose.

"You’re early today, Veilwalker," Mika observed, appraising him with narrowed eyes. "I hope we might see something different this morning."

Commander Maria studied him with clinical detachment. "Something has changed," she murmured, almost to herself.

Eren remained silent, aware of Queen Elena taking her customary position on the elevated platform. The Lens twins flanked her, their identical faces betraying identical surprise as they took in Eren’s transformation.

During the days of intense training, his body had responded with almost unnatural speed—filling out, hardening, reclaiming the powerful physique he’d once possessed. Muscles rippled beneath his skin as he rolled his shoulders, the morning light defining each contour. Even his height seemed to have increased subtly, his posture more commanding than before.

’My original strength is returning,’ Eren thought with quiet satisfaction as he noted the surprised glances exchanged among the observers. ’This body remembers who I truly am.’

A smile formed on his lips—not the reserved expression they had grown accustomed to, but something primal that triggered instinctive wariness in those watching.

Commander Maria stepped forward, her voice cutting through the morning air. "Today you will fight with bare hands. No weapons, no restraint." She looked between the combatants. "Are you prepared?"

Mika nodded, shedding her light outer tunic to reveal a fitted training vest. She wrapped her hands with strips of cloth, her movements precise and practiced.

"I’m ready," Eren stated, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that had been absent in previous encounters.

They took positions at opposite sides of the circle. The atmosphere had changed—spectators who had previously viewed the daily match as entertainment now watched with tense anticipation. Something was different today. The air itself seemed charged with potential.

Commander Maria raised her hand, held it suspended for three heartbeats, then brought it down sharply. "Begin!"

Eren moved with explosive speed that shocked everyone present. One moment he stood in position, the next he was inside Mika’s guard, fist hurtling toward her face with devastating force. The air itself seemed to compress around his strike, creating a subtle distortion visible to the onlookers.

Mika’s eyes widened fractionally—the only indication of her surprise—before her training took over. She ducked beneath the blow at the last possible instant, feeling the rush of air as his fist passed overhead. Using her lower position, she drove her own fist upward toward Eren’s exposed ribs.

He twisted away, the blow glancing off his side rather than landing solidly. Both fighters separated, reassessing.

"Impressive," Mika acknowledged, a thin smile playing across her lips. "Time to get serious."

"I wasn’t playing in the first place," Eren replied, his voice dangerously calm.

They circled each other, the packed earth crunching softly beneath their feet. Mika launched forward, unleashing a flurry of strikes—each one targeted at vulnerable points. Her hands moved almost too fast to follow, a blur of controlled violence.

Eren blocked or deflected most, but two slipped through his defense—one catching him in the shoulder, another landing solidly against his ribs. He grunted at the impact but didn’t retreat. Instead, he pressed forward, absorbing another hit to deliver one of his own—a sharp jab that connected with Mika’s jaw, snapping her head back.

A collective gasp rose from the onlookers. Blood trickled from the corner of Mika’s mouth as she reset her stance, eyes narrowing. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, studying the bright red smear with something approaching respect.

"First blood to you, Veilwalker," she acknowledged. "But this has barely begun."

She launched herself at him, feinting high before dropping into a sweep kick aimed at his legs. Eren jumped, clearing the attack, but Mika had anticipated this. Her leg continued its arc, rising to meet him as he descended. Her heel connected with his chest, sending him staggering backward.

Before he could recover, she was upon him again, raining blows that should have overwhelmed any opponent. Yet Eren’s defense had evolved dramatically—where days ago he had been predictable and rigid, now he moved with the same fluid grace that characterized Thornvale’s warriors.

A right cross from Mika missed its target as Eren swayed back, the force of her punch disturbing the air between them. He countered with an elbow strike that she blocked with her forearm. The impact produced a dull crack that made Viva wince from the sidelines.

Their exchange intensified—strike, block, counter, dodge—each movement flowing into the next with increasing speed. Blood spattered the packed earth as Mika’s knuckles caught Eren’s brow, opening a cut that immediately welled red. He retaliated with a punch to her ribs that drove the air from her lungs in an audible whoosh.

Backing away to reassess, Eren wiped blood from his eye, his breathing controlled despite the exertion. Across from him, Mika rolled her shoulders, wincing slightly at what was likely a cracked rib.

"You’ve improved," she conceded, genuine approval in her voice.

"You haven’t seen anything yet," Eren replied.

They clashed again, this time with Eren taking the initiative. He pressed forward with calculated aggression, each strike carrying tremendous force. When Mika blocked a particularly powerful blow, the impact traveled visibly through her body, causing her to grimace.

’She’s feeling the effects of our previous matches,’ Eren realized. ’Five days of constant combat have taken their toll, while I’ve been rebuilding my strength each night.’

A particularly vicious exchange left both fighters bloodied—Eren’s lip split, Mika sporting a rapidly darkening bruise across her cheekbone. Neither showed any inclination to slow down. If anything, the injuries only intensified their focus.

From her elevated position, Elena leaned forward slightly, her typically impassive expression replaced by intense interest. The Lens twins whispered to each other, their eyes never leaving the combatants.

The fight’s tempo increased further, approaching a speed that made individual movements difficult to track. Mika executed a perfect spinning kick that should have connected with Eren’s temple—but he was no longer there. He had dropped beneath the attack and surged upward, his shoulder driving into her midsection.

The impact lifted Mika off her feet. Before she could recover, Eren’s fist connected with her sternum—not hard enough to cause serious damage, but with sufficient force to send her tumbling backward. She rolled with the momentum, coming back to her feet in one fluid motion, but Eren was already there, inside her guard again.

A flurry of strikes—too many to count, too fast to follow—ended with Mika staggering backward, blood streaming from her nose. Her eyes showed something new: uncertainty.

Eren pressed his advantage, forcing her to defend rather than attack. For the first time in their encounters, Mika found herself reacting rather than controlling the pace. Her blocks became increasingly desperate as Eren’s assault continued without pause or hesitation.

A missed block allowed Eren’s fist to connect with her temple. Mika’s knees buckled momentarily before she caught herself. She attempted a desperate counter-strike, but Eren caught her wrist, twisted, and used her own momentum to throw her to the ground.

Mika hit the earth with enough force to send up a small cloud of dust. Before she could rise, Eren was there, his knee pressed against her sternum, one hand pinning her dominant arm.

Silence fell over the training ground as everyone present processed what they had just witnessed. Mika, undefeated champion of Thornvale, lay pinned beneath the Veilwalker, her chest heaving with exertion, blood staining her face.

For a moment, fury flashed in her eyes—the instinctive rage of a predator cornered. Then, surprisingly, she began to laugh—a genuine sound of delight that confused everyone except Commander Maria, whose lips curved in the barest hint of a smile.

"I yield," Mika declared, loud enough for all to hear.

Eren released her and stood, offering his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. They stood facing each other, both bloodied, both exhausted, but a new understanding forming between them.

"Well fought, Veilwalker," Mika said, inclining her head in a gesture that from her carried the weight of profound respect.

"You held back in our previous matches," Eren observed, no accusation in his tone.

Mika’s eyes sparkled with mischief despite her injuries. "So did you, it would seem."

From her elevated position, Elena rose to her feet, drawing all eyes. She studied Eren for a long moment before nodding once—a gesture that carried more approval than any words could convey. Without speaking, she turned and departed, the Lens twins following in her wake.

As the spectators dispersed, discussing the match in excited whispers, Viva approached. Her expression was complex—pride mingled with something deeper, more personal.

"I told you improvement was possible," she said, offering cloths to both fighters to wipe away the blood.

Mika accepted one with a grunt of thanks, pressing it against her still-bleeding nose. "Next traning won’t be so easy for you," she promised Eren, but the hostility that had characterized her previous challenges was absent.

"I’m counting on it," Eren replied.

As Mika limped away, assisted by Commander Maria, Viva remained, her eyes fixed on Eren’s face.

"You’ve changed," she said quietly.

Eren met her gaze steadily. "I’m becoming who I need to be."

The morning sun illuminated them both as they stood amid the aftermath of battle, the air between them charged with possibilities neither was yet ready to name.