Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man

The sound of metal clashing against metal jolted Kaine awake. His eyes snapped open immediately, and he sat up in bed, leaving Ella still sleeping peacefully beside him.

His heart raced as he rushed to the window, the nightmare still fresh in his memory making every unexpected sound feel like a potential threat.

Looking down into the courtyard, he saw Catherine and Vincent engaged in what appeared to be intense combat training. They moved with incredible speed and precision, their practice weapons creating the rhythmic sounds that had woken him.

"They always do this twice a week."

Kaine nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around to find Ella standing right behind him.

"You scared me!" he said, his hand pressed to his chest.

"I'm sorry, Young Lord," Ella said with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to startle you. You seemed so focused on watching them."

Kaine turned back to the window, watching the training session below with growing fascination. "My mother is really that strong?"

"Lady Catherine is incredibly skilled," Ella confirmed, moving to stand beside him at the window. "But Vincent is even stronger. He's been her sparring partner for years."

Down in the courtyard, the training continued with impressive intensity that made Kaine's eyes widen.

Catherine threw a powerful punch toward Vincent's head with lightning speed. He intercepted it smoothly with one hand while simultaneously driving his other fist toward her stomach. She immediately brought her knee up to block the counter-attack, then launched her own strike that forced Vincent to use both hands to defend himself.

The impact of their clash sent a shockwave of displaced air rippling around Vincent as he slid backward several feet, his boots scraping against the stone courtyard.

Vincent rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, a slight grin playing at his lips. Catherine matched his expression with a confident smile of her own.

"Now you're getting serious," she said, settling into a new fighting stance.

Suddenly, Vincent moved with a speed that made Kaine's eyes struggle to track the motion.

"What the—" Kaine breathed, pressing closer to the window glass.

Vincent wasn't relying on brute strength this time. Instead, he darted from side to side in a weaving pattern, his movements creating brief visual distortions as he tried to confuse Catherine with his positioning. He launched himself forward, aiming a precise strike at her head.

"Too slow," Catherine said with practiced confidence, moving to intercept what she thought was his attack.

But something went wrong. Her timing was off by just a fraction of a second, and shock flashed across her face as she realized Vincent's fist was coming from a completely different angle than she'd anticipated.

Instinctively, her other hand shot up to grab his wrist, stopping the strike just inches from her temple.

"Tricky bastard," she muttered, though there was admiration in her voice.

Kaine stared in amazement at what he'd just witnessed. "How did he do that? He was moving so fast, and then he just... it looked like he changed direction in mid-air."

"That's Vincent's specialty technique," Ella explained, clearly impressed herself. "It's called Shadow Step. He can create a brief visual distortion that makes it look like he's attacking from one direction when he's actually coming from another. It's not true invisibility, just very advanced misdirection."

"That's incredible," Kaine said, though he could tell Ella's explanation was somewhat limited by her own understanding of such advanced combat techniques.

Catherine pushed Vincent's hand back and they both stepped away from each other, preparing to continue their training session. But before they could resume, something streaked down from the morning sky.

A bolt of what looked like living lightning shot downward at incredible speed, landing gracefully on Catherine's shoulder. It was a bird, but unlike any Kaine had ever seen. The creature was deep red with small, impossibly bright eyes and an unusually long, elegant tail. A rolled letter was secured in its beak.

"What is that?" Kaine asked, fascinated by the magical creature.

"That's Eris," Ella explained with a smile. "She's a messenger crow that's served the Light family for more than three centuries."

"Three centuries?" Kaine's eyes widened. "How is that even possible?"

"Eris is a magical messenger bird. The Light family uses creatures like her to send messages across vast distances almost instantaneously. They can also communicate directly with their handlers through a form of telepathic link. The person who sent this message is most likely your father."

Catherine carefully took the letter from Eris's beak and unrolled it. As she read, her expression shifted from curiosity to relief, and finally to pure joy. A bright smile spread across her face.

"Your father sent a message!" she called up to Kaine's window, waving the letter triumphantly. "I'm coming to your room so we can read it together!"

"Okay!" Kaine called back, his own excitement building.

Catherine leaned close to Eris and whispered something into the crow's ear. The magical bird listened intently, her bright eyes gleaming with intelligence.

"What is she doing now?" Kaine asked.

"Sending a return message to your father," Ella explained. "She'll remember every word Catherine tells her and deliver it exactly."

"Amazing," Kaine breathed.

Eris suddenly launched herself into the sky with that same lightning-fast speed, moving so quickly that she became just a red blur against the morning clouds before disappearing entirely.

"I should get ready for the day then," Kaine said, turning away from the window with anticipation. He was eager to hear what his father had written.

---

Far from Astoria, in a rugged mountain camp surrounded by ancient peaks, a massive man sat on a fallen log, slowly smoking a carved wooden pipe. Ragnar Light was an imposing figure - easily six feet four inches tall and built like solid granite, with a full bushy beard and black hair that showed streaks of premature silver from years of dangerous work.

He stared into the smoldering remains of their morning campfire, his weathered face creased with worry lines that hadn't been there a week ago. The pipe smoke curled around him in the still mountain air, but even this familiar comfort couldn't ease the knot of anxiety that had settled in his chest since hearing about Kaine's injuries.

Another man emerged from one of the nearby tents and approached quietly. Richard was shorter than Ragnar and not nearly as powerfully built, though he sported the same kind of full beard that seemed common among their group. He'd known Ragnar for over a decade, and he could read the big man's moods better than anyone.

"Still worrying about the boy?" Richard asked, settling down on a nearby rock.

Ragnar took a long draw from his pipe before responding. "Wouldn't you be?" His voice was thick and deep, carrying the weight of his concern. "The message said he was badly hurt, Richard. My son... he's never been in real danger before."

"Catherine's message also said he was recovering well," Richard reminded him gently. "You know she wouldn't sugarcoat something like that."

Ragnar nodded slowly, but the worry didn't leave his eyes. "I know. But being this far away, not knowing exactly what happened or how he's doing moment by moment..." He trailed off, taking another puff from his pipe.

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, watching the sun climb higher over the jagged mountain peaks. The rest of their crew was busy breaking camp and preparing for the day's hunt, but they moved quietly, sensing their leader's mood.

"If something had happened to him," Ragnar said finally, his voice barely above a whisper, "if I'd lost him without ever getting the chance to really know him..."

Richard understood. Ragnar's work kept him away from home for months at a time. The big man carried guilt about missing so much of his son's childhood, even though his dangerous profession was what kept the family secure.

Movement in the sky caught their attention. Both men looked up to see a familiar red streak descending toward their camp.

"The crow's back," Richard observed, straightening up with interest.

"I can see that," Ragnar replied, but there was a note of nervous anticipation in his thick voice.

Eris landed gracefully on Ragnar's broad shoulder, her bright eyes gleaming with intelligence. She leaned close to his ear and began delivering Catherine's message in a series of soft chirps and whispers that only he could understand.

As the magical bird spoke, Ragnar's expression slowly transformed. The deep worry lines around his eyes began to soften. His shoulders, which had been tense for days, gradually relaxed. By the time Eris finished her message and took flight again, a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Well?" Richard asked, though Ragnar's changing expression had already given him hope.

Ragnar sat quietly for a long moment, processing everything he'd heard. Then he looked at Richard with the biggest, most genuine smile Richard had seen from him in months.

"My son is fine," Ragnar said, and his voice carried a weight of relief that seemed to echo off the surrounding mountains.

From behind them, several members of their crew who had been eavesdropping let out a cheer. "That's great news, boss!"

But Ragnar wasn't finished. He stood up slowly, his massive frame unfolding to its full impressive height. When he spoke again, his voice carried across their entire camp.

"My son is not just fine," he bellowed with growing excitement, "he's training! Catherine says he's already started jogging around the city!"

The entire crew erupted in celebration. They all knew how much Ragnar worried about his boy, and seeing their leader happy meant everything would go more smoothly.

Richard felt a wave of relief wash over him as well. 'Thank the gods,' he thought to himself. 'A worried Ragnar is impossible to work with, and we've all had enough of his brooding.'

Ragnar began moving with renewed energy, the weight of days of worry finally lifting from his shoulders. He grabbed his gear and started preparing for their mission with the enthusiasm that his crew knew and respected.

"Now let's go get that dragon's head!" he declared, his voice full of determination and joy.

His crew shouted their agreement, energized by their leader's return to form.

Ragnar clapped one of his crew members on the shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. "And Catherine says he's got natural talent! My boy's going to be a warrior!"

"Like father, like son," the man replied, grinning at his leader's infectious enthusiasm.

"I always knew that boy would be a blessing to our family," Ragnar said with deep pride, his voice carrying clearly across their camp as they finished preparations for what promised to be a dangerous but lucrative hunt.