Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man-Chapter 101: The Battle cry

The darkness within the structure yielded reluctantly, retreating before their advance like a living thing. As their eyes adjusted, the vast interior space revealed itself—impossibly large, extending far beyond what the building’s exterior dimensions should have allowed. The ceiling soared to dizzying heights, lost in shadow and mist, while the floor beneath their feet rippled subtly, the strange iridescent material seeming almost alive.

"This isn’t possible," Lieutenant Seril murmured, her illusion-trained senses struggling to process the spatial incongruity. "The building can’t be this large inside."

"The Fea realm doesn’t follow our rules of space," Queen Elena replied, her voice low. "The ancient texts warned of this—structures that exist between realities, occupying multiple spaces simultaneously."

Commander Maria gestured for the forces to fan out in defensive formation, her experienced gaze constantly scanning for threats. Despite the impossible dimensions, the hall appeared empty—devoid of the warriors they had expected to encounter, lacking even the basic furnishings one would expect in such a space.

"I don’t like this," Captain Diana muttered, her hand never straying from her sword hilt. Her armor, designed specifically for the mixed combat techniques of Moonlight’s elite guard, made no sound as she moved—each plate enchanted for silence. "It feels like—"

"A trap," Lyra finished for her, silver eyes narrowed as she studied the chamber. "Or an illusion."

Naia moved cautiously behind her assigned guards, frustration and concern warring within her. Despite her enforced position of safety, her senses remained alert, cataloging details the others might miss. The texture of the walls—not stone but something organic, almost like hardened resin. The subtle currents in the air, too regular to be natural drafts. The faint, rhythmic vibration beneath their feet, like the breathing of some enormous beast.

"Do you feel that?" she whispered to Mika, who had remained close despite not being officially assigned to her protection.

Mika nodded grimly, her earth-sense extended as far as the strange environment would allow. "Something’s moving beneath us. Many somethings."

Near the front of their formation, Soren made a sharp, dismissive sound. "This is ridiculous," she declared, her voice echoing in the cavernous space. "We were told this place would be crawling with enemy forces. Instead, we find an empty hall and jump at shadows."

Captain Ester gave her sister a warning look. Unlike Soren’s more elaborate armor—adorned with trophies from past victories—Ester’s was functional and austere, reflecting her no-nonsense approach to combat. "Silence, Lieutenant," she commanded, her tone allowing no argument. "Maintain discipline."

Soren subsided, but the contemptuous curve of her lip made her thoughts clear. "We should just find that useless sister of ours and be done with this mission," she muttered, just loud enough to be heard by those nearby.

Mika’s hand tightened on her sword hilt, but a subtle shake of Naia’s head stayed her response. Now was not the time for internal conflicts.

The combined forces continued their advance through the massive hall, the tension growing with each step that failed to reveal opposition. Queen Elysia moved among the water-wielders, her presence providing silent encouragement, while Elena coordinated with her earth-shapers, ensuring their formations remained tight despite the disorienting space.

"Commander," called one of the forward scouts, her voice hushed but urgent. "There’s something ahead."

The force halted, weapons readied as all eyes turned toward the far end of the hall. Where there had seemed to be only shadow moments before, a raised dais now appeared—a platform of the same shifting, opalescent material as the floor, elevated above the main level by a wide staircase.

"That wasn’t there before," Diana stated flatly, her experienced eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I swear it."

"This place changes," Elena reminded them, her voice tense. "Reshapes itself according to some purpose we don’t yet understand."

Lyra signaled for the advance to continue, but with heightened caution. As they approached the dais, details emerged from the shadows—seven ornate chairs arranged in a semicircle, each carved from what appeared to be a single piece of bone. Six of the seats remained empty, but the central chair—larger and more elaborate than the others—held a figure.

"Hold," Lyra commanded, raising her hand to halt the forces behind her. "Someone’s there."

The seated figure made no move to rise as the combined armies approached, merely watching with unnerving stillness. As they drew closer, details became clearer—a female elf, her posture rigid and unwelcoming. Her silver hair was pulled back in a tight, elegant knot, and her features were sharp, almost predatory. But what drew all eyes was the marking visible on her forehead—an ornate symbol in the shape of the number six, the lines raised as if scarred into her flesh.

"Number six," Elysia breathed, recognition and dread mingling in her voice. "The texts spoke of this—the marked ones, elite warriors who serve the First Eternal."

The marked elf finally moved, rising from her chair with fluid grace that belied the danger she represented. "You trespass in the realm of the First Eternal," she announced, her voice melodic yet cutting. "Your presence offends the natural order."

Commander Maria stepped forward, her sword unsheathed but held non-threateningly at her side. "We come for what was taken from us," she stated firmly. "The Veilwalker and Warrior Viva. Return them, and we will depart peacefully."

A cold smile curved the elf’s lips. "The Veilwalker belongs to the First Eternal now. His power serves a greater purpose than you can comprehend." Her gaze swept over the assembled forces with undisguised contempt. "As for the other—the failed warrior with no control over her form—she is merely a tool to ensure the Veilwalker’s cooperation."

Mika surged forward before anyone could stop her, fury evident in every line of her body. "Where is she?" she demanded, her earth-blade half-drawn. "What have you done with Viva?"

Number six’s attention shifted to Mika, her violet eyes narrowing with interest. "Ah, the lover," she said, recognition dawning in her expression. "She spoke of you, in the moments between screams."

Ester’s hand shot out, restraining Mika before she could charge the dais. "Control yourself, warrior," she hissed, though her own expression had hardened at the casual mention of her sister’s torture.

Number six’s smile widened, revealing teeth too sharp to be natural. "How touching. The family that rejected her, now coming to her rescue." Her gaze shifted to include Soren, who had gone rigid with suppressed emotion. "Your mother would be disappointed to see such sentiment, wouldn’t she? Commander Viera has always valued duty over family ties."

"Enough," Queen Elena commanded, stepping forward to stand beside Maria. "We did not come to bandy words. Return what was taken, or face the combined might of Moonlight and Thornvale."

For the first time, Number six looked genuinely amused. "Combined might?" she echoed, a laugh like breaking glass escaping her lips. "You bring water to a drowning, earth to an avalanche." She spread her arms wide, and as she did, the shadows behind her began to move.

What had appeared to be empty space beyond the dais now revealed its secrets—rank upon rank of warriors, their numbers far exceeding those of the rescue force. They stood in perfect formation, their black robes cinched with white sashes, silver beads gleaming in their complex braids. Each warrior bore a sword at their hip, the hilts wrapped in white cloth that contrasted starkly with their dark attire.

"Behold the true power of the Fea realm," Number six declared, her voice ringing with authority. "For every warrior you bring, we have six. For every element you command, we have mastered its negation."

The armies of Moonlight and Thornvale held their ground, though shock rippled through their ranks at the overwhelming opposition revealed before them. Commander Lyra’s expression remained determined, her water blades steady in her hands.

"Numbers don’t decide battles," she stated firmly. "Purpose does. And our purpose is just."

"Justice?" Number six laughed again, the sound echoing unnaturally through the vast chamber. "You speak of justice while your kingdoms hoard elemental power, while your bloodlines pass on abilities that should never have belonged to any mortal being."

She descended the stairs with measured steps, each movement precise and threatening despite her lack of visible weapons. "The First Eternal does not seek conquest—she seeks correction. The return of balance to a world thrown into chaos by the theft of powers never meant for your kind."

Queen Elysia stepped forward, her regal bearing undiminished by the danger surrounding them. "Those powers have been ours for millennia," she countered. "They are woven into the very fabric of who we are."

"A corruption that must be cleansed," Number sixreplied simply. She raised one hand, and behind her, the assembled warriors drew their swords in perfect unison—thousands of blades catching what little light existed in the hall, creating a constellation of deadly points.

"You have one opportunity," she continued, her voice hard with finality. "Lay down your weapons, surrender yourselves to the First Eternal’s mercy, and your deaths will be quick. Resist, and you will serve as examples of the cost of defiance."

The hall fell silent, the ultimatum hanging in the air between the opposed forces. Commander Maria and Commander Lyra exchanged glances, their decision already made. Queen Elena’s hands tensed at her sides, earth-energy gathering despite the realm’s dampening effect on her powers.

It was Naia who broke the silence, stepping forward despite her guards’ attempts to maintain her protected position. Her voice rang clear and determined across the space that separated the armies.

"We did not come this far to surrender," she declared, her silver eyes flashing with conviction. "We came for the Veilwalker. We came for Viva. And we will not leave without them."

Number six’s expression darkened, the scarred six on her forehead seeming to pulse with suppressed power. "Then you have chosen pain," she stated simply.

With a gesture that was almost casual, she signaled to her warriors. The opposing army began to advance, their movements synchronized with unnatural precision, thousands of feet striking the floor in perfect unison—a drumbeat of approaching death.

Commander Lyra raised her water blades, the liquid metal catching the dim light as she prepared to meet the onslaught. "For Moonlight!" she shouted, her voice carrying to the farthest ranks of their forces. "For Thornvale! For the elements!"

The battle cry was taken up by hundreds of voices, determination drowning out fear as the combined armies of the two kingdoms prepared to face overwhelming odds.

"For the Veilwalker!" came the answering roar. "For Viva!"

And as the two forces closed the distance between them, the true battle for the future of their world began.