Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man-Chapter 77: Viva fate

Midnight settled over the strange chamber, the absence of windows making time itself feel abstract and fluid. Eren stood near the wall, staring at the featureless white expanse surrounding them. Sleep eluded him despite his exhaustion, his mind wrestling with questions that had no answers in this alien place.

The humic had finally settled, nestled in a small depression it had made in the corner of the pillow beside Viva’s silver hair. Its tiny form rose and fell with shallow breaths, wings occasionally twitching as though chasing something in dreams.

Eren shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension that had settled there like a physical burden. The white walls seemed to press in around him, their featureless expanse offering no distraction from his troubled thoughts. His mother’s face floated in his mind—haggard and worn, yet still bearing that unmistakable strength that had shaped his entire life. Then Kaida’s kaleidoscope eyes, calculating and cold, promising salvation at an undefined but surely terrible cost.

"Eren?"

The voice was so soft he almost missed it, a whisper barely disturbing the silence. He remained facing the wall, lost in thought, not registering that Viva had stirred.

"Eren," she called again, slightly louder this time.

He turned then, surprised to find her awake. She had shifted to a half-sitting position, one hand pressed against her temple as though fighting disorientation. Her silver hair spilled across the white bedding like liquid moonlight, creating the only contrast in the colorless room.

"You’re awake," he said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Like my head’s been used as a training dummy," she muttered, wincing slightly as she pushed herself fully upright. The movement disturbed the humic, which chirped indignantly before relocating to a safer position at the foot of the bed. "Where are we? This place... it feels wrong."

Eren watched as her eyes tracked across the pristine white surfaces, noting the moment she registered the bracelet on her wrist. Her posture stiffened, training taking over as she assessed their situation.

"I’m not entirely sure," he admitted, his voice low. "Some kind of palace or chamber I’ve never seen before."

Viva studied the pristine white surfaces with growing recognition in her eyes. She threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"This construction... these walls," she murmured, a mix of disbelief and wonder crossing her face. "I’ve read about rooms like this in the ancient texts. The seamless white surfaces, the way light seems to come from everywhere and nowhere." She looked at Eren with widening eyes. "This resembles descriptions of the Fae realm chambers."

She stood too quickly, swaying as her knees threatened to buckle. Eren moved forward, catching her arm to steady her.

"Easy," he cautioned. "You’ve been unconscious for hours."

"But if this is truly a Fae realm structure," she insisted, her voice hushed with awe despite her obvious disorientation, "then we’re somewhere no one from our Kingdom as actually visited in generations not even Queen Elena." She looked around the sterile white room with renewed interest. "Though I always imagined it would be... different. More magical. Not this emptiness."

Eren couldn’t hide his surprise—and satisfaction—at hearing Viva confirm what he had suspected. Her knowledge of these ancient texts might prove valuable.

She sank back onto the bed, strength leaving her legs. Her gaze fell to the bracelet, fingers hovering just above its seamless surface without touching it.

"And this?" Viva asked, studying the device.

"Don’t touch it," Eren warned. "I don’t know what it does exactly, but the magic in it feels... invasive."

Viva nodded, lowering her hand. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember was being in the palace corridor near the servants’ quarters, and then..." She frowned, concentration etching lines between her brows as she tried to piece together fragmented memories.

"Kiran and Luna found you," Eren supplied, bitterness edging his words. "They brought you here unconscious."

"Wonderful," Viva said dryly, though he could see the flicker of fear she quickly masked. "What is this place supposed to be? A guest room or a cell?"

"Both, I think." His gaze drifted to the featureless door. "Everything here looks the same. The corridors, the rooms... it’s like the whole palace is designed to disorient."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their situation settling between them. The humic fluttered back to Viva, landing on her shoulder and nuzzling against her neck in a gesture of comfort. She smiled faintly, reaching up to stroke its tiny form with one finger.

"Why did they bring me here?" she finally asked, her voice carefully controlled. "What do they want?"

Eren hesitated, weighing how much to reveal. "They know you learned the TUNA ritual from Elena," he finally said. "Kaida wants insurance—someone else who knows the ritual in case I..." He didn’t finish the thought, but Viva’s expression showed she understood.

"Now I see," she murmured, her eyes darkening with comprehension.

They sat in silence again, longer this time. The humic chirped softly from Viva’s shoulder, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet room. When Viva spoke again, her voice had changed, softer now, almost hesitant. freewebnøvel.com

"Do you know why I followed you, Eren?"

He looked at her, surprised by the question. "Because you learned how to perform TUNA from Elena," he answered slowly. "You insisted on coming to help, not wanting me to face this burden alone."

The ghost of a smile touched her lips, but it held a sadness he hadn’t noticed before. "Not only that." She looked down at her hands resting in her lap, the silver bracelet catching the harsh white light. For a long moment, she seemed to struggle with words—unusual for someone normally so quick-witted.

"My family..." she began, then stopped, inhaling deeply as though gathering courage. "My family, especially my mother, have always said I’m a failure." The words emerged slowly, each one seeming to cost her something to voice aloud. "That I’ll never lead the family to something greater."

Eren remained silent, giving her space to continue at her own pace.

"My mother would stand before me," Viva continued, her voice growing softer, "her face a perfect mask of disappointment, and ask how I could possibly lead our family when everything I touch falls apart." Her fingers twisted together in her lap, knuckles whitening. "When my clothes slip away and show my nakedness—that I’m a failure and a disgrace to our family."

She paused, swallowing hard against what looked like tears threatening to form. The humic chirped sympathetically, nestling closer to her neck.

"Every mistake became proof," she whispered, "every misstep confirmation that I would never be enough." Her eyes remained fixed on her hands, unable to meet his gaze as she laid her soul bare. "The silver hair that marks me as different became just another reminder of how I didn’t belong, couldn’t live up to expectations."

A single tear escaped, tracking silently down her cheek. She brushed it away with an almost angry gesture, as though furious at this further display of weakness.

"That’s why I joined the warriors of Thornvale," she continued after steadying her breath. "To end my life one way or another." The stark admission hung in the air between them. "At least my fellow warriors might remember me when I’m gone. A noble end, if not a noble life."

Her voice caught slightly, emotion making the words heavy. "Then I saw you, Eren." She finally looked up, meeting his eyes directly. "You were so determined. You have the world on your shoulders, yet you don’t break under its weight."

She took another deep breath, steadying herself. "When your mother treated you harshly, you remained steadfast, never broken. You just... accepted it and moved forward, carrying that weight along with everything else."

The humic chirped softly, as if encouraging her words. The tiny creature’s presence seemed to offer her strength as she continued.

"And no matter how many times my clothes slipped away," her voice softened to nearly a whisper, "you never saw it as anything to mock. You would just say, ’Your cloak is down,’ and nothing more. Not insults, not laughter, not pity—just simple acknowledgment and respect."

She reached up to stroke the humic gently, as though the action helped ground her. "In you, I saw someone who understood what it meant to be judged and found wanting, yet refused to let that judgment define them." Her voice grew stronger as she continued, passion replacing vulnerability. "Someone who carried impossible burdens without complaint. Who saw me—really saw me—as more than my failures."

Eren felt something shift within him at her words—a recognition of a shared burden he hadn’t fully understood until now. He reached out, his hand covering hers where it rested on the bed between them.

"We wear our failures differently," he said quietly. "You hide yours beneath silver hair and sharp words. I carry mine like armor, letting everyone see the weight crushing me so they won’t look deeper." His fingers tightened around hers. "But they don’t define us, Viva. Not yours, not mine."

He turned to face her fully, the humic fluttering between them like a small guardian. "Tomorrow, Kaida will try to use us both—our knowledge, our fears, our desperation. She’ll try to break us with the very things that have nearly broken us before." His voice grew stronger, resolve hardening his words. "But she doesn’t understand what it means to be already broken and remade. To know your weaknesses so intimately that they become strengths."

Viva’s eyes glistened in the harsh light, but her expression had changed—the vulnerability giving way to something fiercer, more determined. "We’re not what they think we are," she agreed, her hand turning to clasp his properly. "Not pawns. Not tools."

"Not failures," Eren added softly.

The humic settled on their joined hands, its tiny form a warm presence binding their silent pact. They remained that way for long moments, neither needing to speak further. Eventually, exhaustion claimed them both. They settled back on the bed, a careful distance between them yet somehow closer than before. The humic kept watch from the headboard, its vigilant presence a small comfort in the overwhelming white.

As sleep embraced him, Eren felt himself drifting into a dream unlike any he’d experienced before. The sterile whiteness of their prison faded, replaced by a forest clearing bathed in moonlight. Trees with silver bark rose around him, their leaves whispering secrets in a language just beyond his understanding. The air felt different here—alive with possibilities, charged with ancient power that thrummed against his skin.

He moved forward, drawn by something he couldn’t name. The forest floor was soft beneath his feet, moss and fallen leaves cushioning each step. Ahead, a figure stood beside a pool of water so still it mirrored the stars above with perfect clarity.

As he drew closer, his heart quickened. The figure turned, silver hair catching moonlight, familiar features resolving from shadow. Not quite Elena—something different about the eyes, the set of the shoulders—yet unmistakably similar.

"Elena?" he called, moving closer.