Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man-Chapter 50: Bald Queen

As the hood fell away completely, Naia’s eyes widened in shock. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, the world around her ceased to exist.

"Eren?" she whispered, her voice breaking on the single word.

Time seemed to slow as Naia stared at the familiar face before her. For a heartbeat, she froze, taking in how much Eren had changed—taller now, with broad shoulders and a muscular frame that hadn’t been there before. Then, without thought, without hesitation, her legs carried her forward, stumbling across the floating sand. The others called after her, their voices distant and unimportant compared to the singular truth before her—Eren had returned.

"EREN!" The name tore from her throat as a ragged sob.

Naia crashed into him, her arms wrapping around his body with desperate strength. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his red robe as if afraid he might dissolve into mist at any moment. Her entire body trembled violently as weeks of fear, longing, and exhaustion erupted in uncontrollable waves of emotion.

"Why did you leave?" she gasped between sobs, her face pressed against his chest. The words were punctuated by deep, gut-wrenching cries that seemed pulled from the very core of her being.

Tears streamed freely down her face, soaking into the dark fabric of Eren’s robe. Each breath came as a struggled gasp, her shoulders heaving with the force of her weeping. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—could only hold onto him as though he were the sole anchor in a violent storm.

"I’m sorry," Eren said softly, his arms supporting her as her knees weakened.

The group watched in stunned silence as Naia, always so composed and strong, shattered completely in Eren’s arms. Even Diana, hardened by centuries of warfare, felt her throat tighten at the raw display of emotion before her.

A heavy silence hung in the air for several moments, broken only by Naia’s quiet sobs. The world around them seemed to hold its breath, as if witnessing a reunion that defied the very laws of fate itself. novelbuddy.cσ๓

As Naia’s desperate cries softened, the remaining three figures slowly reached up to remove their own hoods.

Lyra gasped as the faces were revealed one by one: Queen Elena, with her crown of silver threads woven into her hair; Commander Maria, her face unchanged since the day of the battle; and two strangers whose presence seemed to command a terrible power.

But it was Commander Maria who drew Lyra’s full attention. The world around her blurred, narrowing to a tunnel focused solely on the woman who stood mere paces away. In an instant, memories flooded back—memories of finding Lady Aria’s body, broken and lifeless on the battlefield.

"You!" Lyra hissed, her voice strangled with rage.

With lightning speed, Lyra drew her daggers and launched herself toward Commander Maria. The world moved in slow motion—her feet leaving the ground, her body arcing through the air, blades extended for a killing blow, her face contorted with years of pent-up hatred.

"For Lady Aria!" she screamed.

The blade descended in a perfect arc toward Maria’s throat—only to stop with a sudden metallic clang.

Eren stood between them, his hand slicing through Lyra’s blade as if it were made of paper. The metal shattered against his palm, fragments scattering across the floating sand.

A collective gasp rose from the onlookers. Naia’s eyes widened, her tears momentarily forgotten as she witnessed Eren’s impossible power. Diana and elira took an involuntary step backward, there centuries of combat experience telling them this was no ordinary Strength. Rose stared in shock, her hands trembling slightly at the display.

"Did you come all this way merely to seek revenge?" Eren’s voice had changed—cold and authoritative. The floating sand at his feet seemed to retreat from his presence.

Lyra stared at her broken weapon in disbelief. "She killed Lady Aria in the war! I saw her body with my own eyes!"

Naia, still trembling with emotion, looked up at Eren with wonder. "How did you—"

Commander Maria turned away, her expression unreadable. "It’s time to go," she said simply, her voice lacking any emotion or acknowledgment of Lyra’s accusation.

The tension in the air was palpable, a dangerous current that threatened to erupt once more. Diana moved to Lyra’s side, placing a restraining hand on her shoulder, while Elira looked on with a mixture of shock and confusion.

Rose watched the entire scene unfold, her outward expression carefully controlled despite the wild excitement coursing through her. ’It’s all real,’ her mind raced. ’Everything in the old scrolls was true. The Veilwalker has awakened. The First Tuna has been completed. The world is about to change...’

Queen Elena gestured toward the ornate box the two figures had carried. It was a box , but a gateway—now open to reveal a shimmering darkness within.

One by one, the mysterious group began to step into the darkness of the gateway. Eren, still holding Naia’s arm, guided her toward the entrance. Before stepping through, he paused, his gaze sweeping over the remaining members of Diana’s party.

His eyes settled on Rose. "You’re Rose, the kitchen servant," he stated, recognition clear in his voice.

Rose’s heart thundered in her chest, her mind screaming with elation. ’HE KNOWS MY NAME! THE VEILWALKER KNOWS MY NAME!’ Outwardly, she managed a deep bow, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

"Yes, Your Highness," she replied, her voice remarkably steady despite the chaos of emotions within her.

A faint smile touched Eren’s lips before he vanished into the darkness with Naia.

---

Far away in the kingdom of Vylonia, the grand throne room echoed with the sound of approaching footsteps.

The throne room of Vylonia was unlike any other royal chamber in the known kingdoms. Instead of the traditional opulence of gold and velvet, the vast circular space resembled the inside of an enormous egg. Smooth, curved walls of pale bone-white stone rose to meet at a perfect dome overhead, unbroken by windows or conventional doors. Light emanated from thousands of tiny glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling, creating the illusion of a starlit sky.

The throne itself was the room’s most distinctive feature—a massive chair carved from a single piece of obsidian, shaped like a perfect sphere with a section cut away to form the seat. It didn’t rest on the floor but hovered several feet above it, slowly rotating in a counterclockwise direction. No stairs led to it; the queen simply floated up to take her place when court was in session.

Around the perimeter stood the Royal Guard of Vylonia—fifty elven warriors with identically shaved heads, their scalps polished to such a shine that the ceiling lights reflected off them like additional stars. Their uniform discipline was marred only by the occasional unconscious habit of rubbing their smooth heads for luck.

Upon the floating obsidian sphere sat Queen Elizabeth, the most enigmatic ruler in the Seven Kingdoms. Unlike her guards, her baldness was not a fashion choice but the result of a magical mishap involving a potion, a disgruntled court magician, and what was supposed to be a simple remedy for split ends. The result had been catastrophically permanent.

To compensate, the queen had commissioned a collection of elaborate headdresses. Today she wore what appeared to be a miniature landscape—complete with tiny trees, a flowing waterfall of blue gems, and what looked suspiciously like actual singing birds nesting among the foliage. The entire creation wobbled precariously with her every movement.

As the spy approached, one of the birds took flight in panic, circled the throne room twice, and then returned to its perch on what appeared to be a tiny replica of the queen’s own throne room. The queen pretended not to notice.

"Your Radiance," the spy said, dropping to one knee and trying not to stare at the miniature version of herself now visible among the tiny trees on the queen’s head. "I bring news from beyond the Thornvale Kingdom."

Queen Elizabeth leaned forward, causing an avalanche of tiny decorative pebbles to cascade down her forehead. She brushed them away with a practiced flick of her wrist.

"Speak," she commanded, her voice carrying the distinctive echo that all royal proclamations in Vylonia were required to have, thanks to an ancient bylaw that nobody had bothered to repeal.

"It is true, Your Radiance. The Veilwalker has performed the First TUNA with Queen Elysia."

A collective gasp emanated from the assembled court, followed by the distinctive sound of fifty bald heads being simultaneously rubbed for protection.

The queen’s eyes narrowed. "How can you be certain?"

"I heard the sound of the earth around the Veilwalker, Your Radiance. The ground itself mourns when the ancient ritual is performed."

Queen Elizabeth rose from her spherical throne, causing her miniature landscape to tilt alarmingly. A tiny waterfall redirected itself into the leftmost bird’s nest, creating instant panic among its occupants.

"Then we have little time," she declared, either ignoring or unaware of the chaos unfolding atop her head. "In a few days, the Veilwalker will continue his work."

She descended from her floating throne, her feet touching the ground with uncharacteristic heaviness. The court watched in fearful silence as she paced in a tight circle, her landscape headdress now tilting in the opposite direction.

"I don’t know if the Veilwalker’s power will bring salvation or destruction," she said, her voice thoughtful yet still echoing as required by law, "but we must prepare for whatever comes."

One of the guards coughed nervously, then quickly polished her head as if to apologize for the interruption.

The queen stopped pacing and looked directly at the spy. "We must be ready. The coming days will test us all."

This statement caused visible distress among the Royal Guard, many of whom exchanged worried glances.

"What would you have us do, Your Radiance?" the spy asked.

Queen Elizabeth’s expression grew distant, her eyes focusing on something far beyond the walls of the throne room. "We shall watch. And wait. And prepare."

The gravity of her simple words caused several guards to shift uncomfortably, their polished heads gleaming under the crystal lights.

"Return to your post," the queen commanded the spy. "Observe the Veilwalker’s movements. When you see further signs, return to me immediately."

As the spy backed away with appropriate reverence, Queen Elizabeth returned to her floating throne. The birds in her headdress, perhaps sensing the gravity of the situation, had fallen silent.

"The world," she whispered to herself, "is about to change."

Above her, one of the birds lost its balance and slid down the side of the miniature waterfall, splashing into a tiny ornamental pond and sending droplets across the queen’s forehead. She didn’t blink.