Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man-Chapter 56: Pre TUNA

Viva raced across the arena, her long silver hair streaming behind her as she pushed past the dispersing crowd. Her eyes were fixed on Eren’s bloodied form as he limped toward the exit corridor.

"Eren!" she called, reaching his side and instinctively offering her shoulder for support. "Let me take you to the healing chambers. Those wounds need immediate attention."

Eren glanced down at her, his expression cold despite the blood trickling from his brow. "I can manage on my own."

"Don’t be stubborn," Viva insisted, her voice softening with concern. "You’ve proven your strength today. Now let someone help you."

As she adjusted her grip on his waist, her loose-fitting tunic slipped precariously off one shoulder. Eren pointedly looked away as she hastily tugged it back into place, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

They’d barely made it halfway down the corridor when footsteps echoed behind them. Naia and Lyra approached swiftly, their faces masks of concern.

"Eren," Naia called, hurrying to his other side. "Those wounds look serious."

Lyra assessed him with a clinical gaze. "We should tend to him immediately."

Viva looked between the sisters, recognizing the determination in their eyes. "I was taking him to the healing chambers—"

"No need," Lyra interrupted, her tone brooking no argument. "We’ll handle this ourselves."

Naia nodded. "Don’t worry about him. We have experience with battlefield healing."

Viva hesitated, clearly reluctant to release her charge. "But—"

"That’s enough," Eren said, his voice sharp as ice. "They’ll take care of it."

Viva stepped back, stung by his dismissal, watching as the sisters took her place supporting Eren. "I’ll check on you later," she promised, tugging her slipping tunic strap back into place again.

As they disappeared down the hallway, Viva turned toward the medical wing. If she couldn’t help Eren, she could at least check on Commander Maria.

In the medical wing, healers bustled around Commander Maria, who sat stoically on an examination table as her wounds were cleaned. Despite the obvious pain, her face betrayed only mild annoyance at being fussed over.

"Commander, please remain still," a healer pleaded as Maria attempted to rotate her injured shoulder.

"It’s merely dislocated," Maria replied dismissively. "Set it and be done."

Queen Elena entered the chamber, causing the healers to bow hastily. "How severe are her injuries?" she asked the head healer.

"Numerous lacerations, three fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and significant bruising," the woman reported. "But nothing life-threatening. She’s remarkably resilient."

"And her recovery time?" the Queen pressed.

The healer glanced nervously at Maria before answering. "With proper care, she should be fully mobile by evening. The wounds aren’t as deep as they appear."

"Good," Elena nodded. "She’ll need to be ready for the TUNA tonight."

Maria’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. "I wouldn’t miss it, Your Majesty."

The door burst open as Mika strode in, followed by a hesitant Viva. Mika surveyed Maria’s injuries with a low whistle.

"Told you the Veilwalker was strong," she remarked with a poorly suppressed grin. "He didn’t even need a weapon in the end."

Maria’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Watch yourself, Lieutenant."

Mika raised her hands in mock surrender. "Just saying what everyone saw. Although he was gentler with you than he was with me. When we fought, he had me eating sand within minutes." She rubbed her jaw at the memory. "My face still remembers his fist."

Viva pressed her lips together, struggling to maintain composure as Mika continued.

"At least you got some hits in. I barely scratched him before he—"

"Lieutenant," Maria interrupted, her voice deceptively soft, "perhaps you’d like to demonstrate your combat skills against me once I’ve recovered? For training purposes, of course."

The color drained from Mika’s face. "I, uh—that won’t be necessary, Commander."

Viva couldn’t contain a small snort of laughter, immediately covering her mouth as Maria’s piercing gaze turned to her. The sudden movement caused her tunic to slip again, revealing more shoulder than was proper in the Queen’s presence.

Maria’s expression softened marginally as she looked toward the window, her mind clearly elsewhere. "I hope when I perform the TUNA with him, he will become strong enough to face what lies ahead." Her voice carried a weight of seriousness that silenced the room.

Mika’s eyes widened slightly. "After performing the TUNA, you become even stronger than before." She glanced enviously at her commander. "I wish I had the chance to perform the TUNA with him too."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Maria fixed Mika with an icy stare.

"Perhaps you both could find something productive to do," Maria suggested, her voice dangerous and soft.

"Yes, Commander," they chorused, beating a hasty retreat.

In Eren’s chambers, Naia and Lyra worked in solemn concentration. Blood-soaked cloths accumulated in a basin beside the bed as they cleaned his wounds with herb-infused water.

"You took unnecessary risks," Lyra chided, crushing fresh healing herbs in a mortar.

Eren remained impassive. "I needed to understand her capabilities."

"By letting her nearly kill you?" Naia asked, examining a particularly deep cut on his ribs.

"The outcome was never in doubt," Eren replied coldly, his eyes distant.

Without waiting for further response, both sisters positioned themselves on either side of him. They held their palms over his wounds, not quite touching his skin. A soft blue glow emanated from their hands, seeping into the torn flesh. The bleeding slowed, edges of the wounds beginning to close with agonizing slowness.

Eren flinched as the healing magic worked its way through damaged tissue. A groan of pain escaped his tightly pressed lips.

"Sorry," Lyra murmured, though her methodical movements didn’t slow. "The deeper wounds resist simple healing."

A soft knock interrupted them. The door swung open to reveal Rose, with Captain Diana and Elira behind her. Rose’s eyes widened at the sight of Eren’s injuries, her hand flying to her mouth.

"We came to offer our congratulations," Diana said formally, though concern lined her features. "And to see if you required assistance."

"He’s in good hands," Lyra replied, not looking up from her work.

Rose stepped closer, observing the slow progress of their healing. "This is very slow," she murmured, almost to herself.

While Naia and Lyra conferred about a particularly deep gash, Rose moved to position herself where she could clearly see Eren’s wounds. She remained at a respectful distance, but her eyes fixed intently upon the torn flesh. Slowly, her irises began to glow with an ethereal light—a subtle radiance that went unnoticed by the others who were focused on their tasks.

Eren felt a powerful warmth spreading through his body, the pain in his wounds diminishing rapidly. He glanced at Rose questioningly, catching the faint luminescence in her eyes before she blinked it away, her expression revealing nothing.

"The healing is proceeding more quickly than expected," Lyra remarked with surprise, examining Eren’s wounds which had nearly closed.

"Your techniques have improved," Diana observed. "I’ve rarely seen such effective field healing."

Naia and Lyra exchanged confused glances but accepted the compliment with nods.

As they finished their ministrations, Eren straightened. "Your services are no longer required," he stated flatly. "I need to prepare for tonight."

The dismissal was clear and cold. Diana nodded, ushering Elira toward the door.

Rose lingered momentarily, her eyes meeting Eren’s with unspoken meaning before she too departed.

"You should rest," Naia urged, gathering the bloody cloths.

"I don’t need rest," Eren replied, his tone glacial. "Leave me."

Reluctantly, they left him alone with his thoughts, the door closing softly behind them.

Night had fallen, the palace quieted to hushed whispers and distant footsteps. Eren sat in meditation, his freshly healed wounds now mere pink lines across his skin. The night breeze from his open window carried the scent of night-blooming flowers and distant sea salt.

A firm knock broke his concentration. It was exactly midnight.

"Enter," he called, not moving from his position.

The door opened to reveal Commander Maria. Her injuries were barely visible now, though she favored her right side slightly. She wore formal battle dress, her sword once again at her hip.

"I’m ready, Veilwalker," she announced, her eyes gleaming with purpose in the candlelight.

Eren rose to his feet in one fluid motion, showing no sign of the day’s injuries. His face was an emotionless mask as he nodded. "Then let us begin the TUNA."