The Scholar's Rebirth

The villagers gathered outside the great hall, their faces streaked with sweat, blood, and exhaustion. The battle had been won, but at a terrible cost. Too many had fallen. The survivors bore wounds—some visible, others buried beneath the weight of grief.

Elandor stood before them, his features etched with exhaustion. He had seen hardship before, but it had been a long time since they had suffered such devastating losses.

Yet there was no time to mourn.

"Until Lady Eira awakens, we will move forward," he declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "We cannot afford to stand still. Our people need food. Our lands need tending. She gave us a second chance—we must not waste it."

Murmurs spread through the crowd. Some looked relieved, others uncertain. The wounds of battle were still fresh.

At the edge of the gathering, Kael remained silent, his sharp eyes taking in the reactions around him.

Elandor turned to him. "Have you finished the census?"

Kael stepped forward and handed over a list, his expression unreadable. "Every able-bodied person has been recorded. I've also noted those with earth-based magic."

Elandor glanced at the list and nodded. "Good. We will begin immediately."

-

The earth mages were sent to the fields, tasked with nurturing the newly restored land. The battle may have ended, but another had begun—the fight for survival.

Temporary shelters were erected for the wounded and displaced.

Messengers were dispatched to neighboring islands, seeking trade for seeds, food, and medical supplies.

Elandor had no choice but to push forward without Eira… for now.

------

-Mirela's hut-

Eira lay still, her breath shallow, her body unresponsive despite every attempt to heal her. The air in the hut was thick with herbs, but none had made a difference.

Elandor entered alongside Kael.

Kael moved first, stepping to his sister's side. "How is she?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.

Mirela, the village healer, let out a tired sigh. "Not good. She's alive, but unresponsive."

Kael swallowed hard. "How long does she have?"

Mirela hesitated, her lips pressing together. "Not long."

Silence fell between them.

Draco stood near the wall, arms crossed, his gaze locked onto the unconscious Eira. Unlike the others, he wasn't convinced. Something about this situation didn't sit right with him.

She wouldn't die. Not like this.

His mind drifted back to their first meeting. Why did I decide to follow her? Curiosity? Boredom? Or was it something more?

His fingers curled into fists.

What was he supposed to do?

A fleeting thought crossed his mind—What if she never wakes up?

He crushed the thought before it could take root.

Yes, she looked frail for an elf, smaller and more malnourished than she should have been at sixteen. But what she had done on the battlefield… that was something else entirely.

Draco exhaled and looked away, forcing down the uneasy feeling that churned in his chest.

----

-Location unknown-

Eira awoke to an impossible beauty.

Rolling fields of emerald stretched endlessly before her, a crystal-clear stream weaving through meadows bursting with wildflowers. Above, the golden sky shimmered like liquid sunlight, shifting in hues of warmth.

It was breathtaking. Yet… wrong.

In the heart of this paradise stood a single tree.

It was ancient, its bark veined with glowing silver lines. But it was dying. Leaves crumbled like dying embers, its once-mighty branches sagged under an invisible weight, and the roots—once thriving—pulsed weakly.

Decay spread through it like a sickness.

A deep, hollow ache settled in her chest. She took a step forward—

Ding!

A mechanical voice echoed in her mind.

[Host's Life Force is Critically Low.]

[You are currently in a Stasis State. Survival depends on mission completion.]

Eira's breath hitched. So this was limbo?

Her hands clenched. "How do I get out?"

[Mission Completion Required.]

Her scowl deepened. "I already completed a mission—I healed the land!"

A pause. Then—

[Mission acknowledged. However, full completion requires cultivation. Farming must commence before rewards are granted.]

Her stomach twisted. So unless the villagers planted crops, my life force wouldn't be restored?

She let out a slow breath. There was nothing she could do now but trust that Elandor and the others would keep moving forward.

Then—another notification.

[For sealing the Devourer, you have earned a reward.]

The landscape shifted. The sky darkened. The tree trembled.

The ground split apart, and from the earth rose an obsidian pedestal.

Atop it lay a bow.

Eira's breath caught.

It was unlike any weapon she had ever seen.

The limbs were forged from dark, polished metal, veins of deep crimson running through them like living energy. The grip—wrapped in black leather—felt firm yet impossibly smooth. And at the center, where the string would rest, a faint glow pulsed, signaling an absence—there were no arrows.

Her fingers hovered over the weapon.

And then—

Ding!

[A Trial Awaits.]

Eira frowned,what exactly was this system up to.

Suddenly, The golden fields twisted into a turbulent storm of swirling silver and shadow. The ancient tree in the distance, veins of silver now glowing erratically, was the only constant in this shifting realm.

A figure emerged from the storm—Eira, yet not. She was older, more composed, her presence a daunting reminder of what true mastery looked like. She wore celestial silver armor, the engravings glimmering with ethereal power.

Eira(Original) approached,her eyes scrutinizing the figure before her.

"What is your name?" Eira demanded, voice firm, eyes narrowed.

The figure stiffened, surprise flashing across her face. "Eira."

"Wrong."

The word echoed with the force of thunder, making the ground shudder beneath them. The storm above raged harder, responding to Eira's wrath.

"What is your name?" Eira repeated, each syllable a stone hurled at Athena's identity.

A flash of hesitation, then—"Athena Grant."

Eira struck with ferocity, her arrow manifesting in a swirl of crimson light, slicing through the air. Athena barely deflected it, her stance faltering.

Eira's lips curled into a sneer. "You're nothing but a nobody."

Eira's golden eyes burned with unrelenting judgment as she stalked forward, her every step radiating controlled power. Her presence alone weighed down on Athena like an unseen force, suffocating and absolute.

"You are nothing but a nobody," Eira said, her voice slicing through the air like a blade. "A formless shadow pretending to be me. Do you think that simply wearing my skin makes you worthy?"

Athena's fingers twitched at her sides, frustration and confusion bubbling inside her.

"I am—"

Eira didn't let her finish. A silver arc of magic surged toward her, forcing Athena to dodge instinctively. She twisted mid-air, barely avoiding a second strike as a glowing spear materialized in Eira's grasp. The moment Athena's feet touched the ground, Eira was already in front of her, swinging with lethal precision.

Athena parried with her bow, the impact sending shockwaves rippling through the dreamscape. The ground cracked beneath them, golden dust rising into the air.

"You're weak," Eira said, pressing forward, her attacks relentless. "You think you've fought battles? You've merely survived one. That is not strength."

Athena gritted her teeth as she blocked another blow, but the force behind it sent her stumbling back. Eira's strikes were too refined, too calculated—it was as if the very air bent to her will. Athena had relied too much on the memories of Eira life, using borrowed techniques rather than instinct.

Eira was proving that there was a vast difference between wielding power and owning it.

"Why are you doing this?!" Athena shouted, her frustration slipping through.

Eira scoffed. "Because not just anyone can claim to be me."

She flicked her hand, and the sky split apart. Blades of light rained down, each infused with crushing force. Athena leaped, weaving through the barrage, but she wasn't fast enough. A blade slashed her side, sending searing pain through her body.

Blood dripped onto the ground.

"How can you hope to lead if you hesitate at every turn?" Eira's voice echoed. "How can you wield power when you are afraid to claim it as your own?"

Athena clenched her fists. She had fought. She had bled. She had survived. But was that enough?

No.

The fight continued for a long time,there was no day or night here so the time was unknown.

As they fought Athena's body was filled with injuries,Eira kept attacking her at places which would cause pain but no excess harm.

All this time Athena was yet to land a single hit,yet whenever she was hit she came right back up.

Soon she learnt to get passed the pain and solely focus on the opponent .

Eira launched another strike, but this time, Athena met it head-on. Their weapons clashed, and for the first time, Athena did not stumble.

Eira's eyes flickered with something—recognition.

"Finally," she murmured.

Athena exhaled sharply. "I'm done fighting like you."

Eira raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Athena lunged, her movements smoother, more fluid. She was no longer mimicking—she was adapting.

They fought.

Time blurred.

Each exchange grew fiercer, but Athena was no longer simply enduring—she was learning. Eira's techniques, her footwork, her precision—Athena absorbed it all, refining it, making it her own.

Eira was still stronger, still faster, but there was a shift—an unspoken acknowledgment.

And then, in one final clash, Athena landed a decisive blow.

A golden shockwave erupted between them.

Eira stumbled back, chest rising and falling.

For the first time, she smiled.

"You're ready."

Athena's breath was heavy, her body aching, but she stood firm.

Eira stepped closer, reaching out. Her hand pressed against Athena's chest, and warmth flooded through her. A golden crystal emerged—her very essence.

"You are no longer just a shadow of me. You are Eira Liora."

Athena—no, Eira—felt something inside her shift. As the golden essence was absorbed into her being, she felt whole in a way she never had before.

The withering tree in the distance began to heal, its branches stretching toward the sky, silver veins glowing with newfound vitality.

The dreamscape crumbled.

And Eira awoke.