Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man-Chapter 53: Oath and battle

The red glow of sunset bathed the training grounds as the Lens twins concluded their session with Eren. For over a month now, the daily routine had become familiar to all within the palace walls—the grinding of stone against stone, the occasional tremors that rippled through the courtyard, and the twins’ synchronized instructions echoing across the space.

"Remember, Veilwalker," said the Lens twins in perfect unison, their silver hair gleaming in the fading light. "The earth does not yield to force, but responds to understanding."

Their fingers traced identical patterns in the air, leaving trails of glittering dust that hung suspended for moments before dispersing. "Tomorrow’s challenge will test not just your skill with the blade, but your communion with the element. Commander Lyra will not hold back."

Eren stood at the center of the training circle, his body glistening with sweat despite the cool evening air. The once-pristine courtyard now bore the marks of his training—deep furrows in the stone floor, small mounds of earth that had erupted beneath his command, and scattered debris from the day’s exercises.

"I understand," Eren replied, his voice steady despite the exhaustion evident in the slight tremor of his hands. "Thank you for your guidance."

The twins exchanged a glance, a silent communication that spoke volumes. With synchronized bows, they departed, their footsteps fading into the gathering dusk.

Eren remained, his breathing gradually slowing as he centered himself. His eyes closed, he extended his awareness into the earth beneath him. The sensations were still new—the subtle vibrations of the palace foundations, the distant weight of the mountains, the ancient bedrock far below. Unlike water, which had always been a natural extension of himself, earth required a different kind of patience, a steadiness he was still learning to cultivate.

So absorbed was he in his communion with the element that he didn’t notice the approach of soft footsteps until they were nearly upon him. His eyes snapped open, defense reflexes flaring before recognition dawned.

"Rose," he said, relaxing his stance. "You’re here again."

Rose stood at the edge of the training circle, a wooden tray balanced carefully in her hands. Steam rose from several covered dishes, and the sharp aroma of spices cut through the earthy scent of the training grounds. The kitchen servant had exchanged her usual plain attire for a robe of deep burgundy, its edges embroidered with subtle golden patterns that caught the dying light.

"Yes, Your Highness," she replied, a flush spreading across her cheeks as she bowed her head slightly. "I’ve brought your evening meal."

’He noticed my coming again,’ her mind raced, excitement bubbling beneath her calm exterior. ’The Veilwalker acknowledges my service.’

Eren gestured toward a stone bench at the edge of the training area. "As you have every night for the past month," he observed, his tone gentle with amusement. "Though tonight you’ve outdone yourself, it seems."

Rose carefully set the tray on the bench, arranging the dishes with practiced precision. "A special meal, Your Highness," she explained, her voice steady despite the rapid beating of her heart. "Tomorrow is your combat with Commander Lyra. You’ll need your strength."

Eren lifted one of the covers, inhaling the fragrant steam that escaped. "Ginger root and ember peppers," he noted with surprise. "My favorite combination from childhood. How did you know?"

A small smile played at the corners of Rose’s lips. "The kitchen archives contain records of royal preferences stretching back generations, Your Highness. I... may have spent some time researching."

Eren studied her face for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Naia told me about your help during their journey," he said at last. "How you aided them at every turn, despite the risks." His voice softened. "I appreciate your loyalty."

The flush on Rose’s cheeks deepened. "It was nothing, Your Highness," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the carefully arranged dishes. "Anyone would have done the same."

"I doubt that," Eren replied, taking a seat on the bench. "Few would show such dedication." He paused, curiosity evident in his expression. "Why do you do this, Rose? Bringing me meals personally each night, researching my preferences, risking yourself to help my companions?"

Rose’s hands clasped tightly before her, knuckles whitening slightly with the pressure. "It is my duty to serve you, Your Highness," she answered, the practiced response coming easily to her lips.

Eren’s eyes, so much more perceptive than before his departure, studied her face intently. "And you want no reward for this dedication?"

The question hung in the air between them, weighted with implication. Rose’s breath caught in her throat, her heart thundering against her ribs. This was the moment—the opportunity she’d been waiting for since childhood, when stories of the Veilwalker had first captured her imagination.

"I..." she began, her voice faltering before she steadied herself. "I do want a reward, Your Highness."

Eren raised an eyebrow, surprised by her candor. "Name it," he said simply. "Anything within my power to grant."

Rose’s eyes lifted to meet his, determination replacing her earlier hesitation. "I want to always be beside you, Your Highness," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Everywhere you go—to war, to your chambers, when you need assistance in bathing, Your Highness, you can call on me." Her voice gained strength with each word. "I want to always be by your side."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the palace preparing for evening. Rose held her breath, watching as Eren’s expression shifted through surprise, consideration, and finally settled into something unreadable.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—not the shy, hesitant smile of the girl who had left, but the measured expression of the Veilwalker who had returned.

"Your reward is granted," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of promise.

The joy that flooded through Rose was almost too much to contain. ’He accepted me,’ her mind sang. ’The Veilwalker has accepted me by his side!’

Outwardly, she maintained her composure, bowing deeply. "Thank you, Your Highness. I will not disappoint you."

As night fully claimed the sky, the first stars appeared overhead, witnesses to an oath that would shape destinies in ways neither could yet imagine.

---

Morning arrived with a flurry of activity. Viva’s knock at Eren’s chamber door was precisely timed, neither too early nor a moment too late.

"Enter," Eren called, already dressed in the base layer of his combat attire.

Viva stepped into the room, followed by two attendants bearing his armor. Unlike the heavy plate mail of Thornvale knights, this armor was distinctly elven in design—segments of a metallic material that seemed to shift between silver and blue depending on the light, interconnected with a mesh so fine it appeared woven from moonlight.

"The traditional Veilwalker armor, Eren," Viva explained, directing the attendants as they approached. "Forged according to the ancient prophecy, it has awaited your arrival."

Piece by piece, the armor was affixed to Eren’s form. Despite its substantial appearance, it moved with him like a second skin, the segments adjusting subtly with each breath.

"It responds to your essence," Viva continued, her demeanor professional despite the intimacy of the occasion. "The more in tune you become with the elements, the greater protection it provides." freёnovelkiss.com

When the final piece was secured—a gorget bearing the symbol of the prophecy—Viva stepped back to assess the result. Her eyes widened slightly, a rare break in her composure.

"You truly are the Veilwalker," she whispered, more to herself than to Eren.

The journey to the arena passed in a blur of corridors and ceremonial guards. As they approached the massive doors that led to the combat area, the roar of the crowd became increasingly evident—a living wave of sound that ebbed and flowed with anticipation.

"All of the kingdom has gathered to witness this day," Viva remarked as the doors swung open before them. "The day the Veilwalker proves his mastery of earth and achieve illusion."

The arena was unlike anything Eren had seen before—circular and vast, with tiered seating that rose from the sand-covered floor like the petals of an enormous flower. Every tier was filled with elves of all types, their varied garments creating a tapestry of color that rippled with movement.

At the highest tier sat Queen Elena upon a throne of living wood, with Commander Lyra and Naia flanking her on either side. Captain Diana and Elira stood nearby, watchful despite the celebratory atmosphere, while Mika observed from a respectful distance.

Eren’s gaze was drawn to the weapon rack at the edge of the arena—dozens of swords of varying designs, each one a masterpiece of elven craftsmanship. As he approached, an elderly elf with skin like polished mahogany stepped forward.

"Choose wisely, Veilwalker," the elf intoned, gesturing toward the collection. "The blade is but an extension of your will."

Eren ran his hand along the hilts, feeling nothing particular for any of them. ’I’ve never had a favorite sword,’ he thought, momentarily uncertain. Then, as if in response to his doubt, a strange sensation began to build within him—a pulling, a certainty that guided his hand toward a set of twin blades near the end of the rack.

One blade gleamed silver in the arena light, its surface etched with symbols that seemed to flow like water. The other was obsidian black, absorbing light rather than reflecting it, with similar markings that appeared to smolder rather than flow.

His fingers closed around the hilts, and immediately he felt a resonance—as if the blades had been waiting for him.

"Excellent choice, Veilwalker," the elderly elf murmured, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "Those blades have been silent for centuries, awaiting the one foretold in the prophecy."

As Eren took his position at one end of the arena, Commander Maria entered from the opposite side. Her armor was simpler than his, but no less impressive—plates of golden metal layered over a base of deep red, with her commander’s insignia prominently displayed on her breastplate.

The crowd fell silent as Queen Elena rose from her throne, her voice carrying effortlessly across the vast space.

"Today, we witness the second trial of the Veilwalker," she announced, her words formal yet imbued with warmth. "Commander Maria, representative of the illusion Element, will test the Veilwalker’s mastery of Earth."

A herald stepped forward, her voice ringing clear in the hushed arena. "As tradition dictates, this combat will test skill with blade and element combined. Victory comes through surrender or when one combatant can no longer continue." She raised her hand, held it suspended for a moment that stretched into eternity, then dropped it sharply. "Begin!"

The crowd’s roar erupted like a breaking wave as the two combatants began to circle each other, blades at the ready, the very elements seeming to hold their breath in anticipation.