The first light of morning crawled through the shutters of Luther's room, streaking stripes across the wooden floor. He had been awake for a while, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling with a scowl that could curdle milk. His mind refused to settle on the mundane beginnings of the day, staying instead with Alisa's words from the dream world, echoing like an insistent drumbeat. "Enferi Forest. the emerald crystals. the connection to the black crystal."

Groaning, he rolled onto his side only to hear the cutting, metallic voice of his ever-loyal demonic sword.

"And what, pray tell, are you thinking? That you'll just stroll into the forest alone? HA! You really think so?"

Luther rolled his eyes and dragged himself to sit up. "I'm thinking that if I don't go, nobody else will. So yes… I will go… alone-ish."

"'Alone-ish'?" the sword rang out loud, sparks dancing along its edge. "Let me count the casualties in your so-called escape plan: Count Liliana, your sword-maiden, who is basically a walking alarm system; Duke Aithur, the human-clean-freak stalker; Alina, your apprentice who somehow stows away on every mission without permission; and me! Surrounded. Every. Single. Way. And yet, you say 'alone-ish'?"

Luther smiled lazily. "I call it… thorough security. Besides, I'm not planning on getting caught."

The sword snorted, and a cold metallic amusement echoed through the room. "Hah! House arrest masquerading as security. You won't last a second without me pointing out the disaster lurking behind every tree!"

He pressed a hand to the window and peered outside. Four knights were stationed in precise formation below, alert and ready. Two lingered by the carriage, whispering in low tones while keeping watch. Jio, one of the knights, waved cheerfully. Luther's pulse tripled. With a nervous wave, he quickly shut the window.

"They're… everywhere. Why are they everywhere?" he muttered under his breath.

The sword clanged, "And you thought you could tiptoe into the forest undetected," before listing off a string of absurd escape scenarios: swinging from chandeliers, diving into hay bales, disguising as a merchant wagon, and even performing a dramatic invisibility spell that would have probably ended in flames. Luther shook his head, grinning at the preposterousness.

Sword snickeredexcitedly "Okay, okay—hear me out. Idea number fourteen for escaping the knights: we pretend to be a lost circus duo. You juggle me, and I scream dramatically whenever you drop me! The confusion alone will buy us at least… seventy seconds!"

Luther stopped mid-turn on the bed, his head slowly turning toward the blade with the stiff calm of a man who had survived too much nonsense in too short a time.

Luther voice was dead flat "I am not juggling you."

The sword frowned "You didn't let me finish. While you juggle me, I'll insult their mothers. Throw them off mentally. You humans are weak to emotional damage."

Luther inhaled deeply through his nose, fighting every instinct telling him to snap the sword in half.

"You are emotional damage."

"Thank you."

Luther groaned and kept running. Wind spiraled around his body, tearing through the forest with enough force to send birds screaming out of the treetops. In the far distance, lights from the approaching knights flickered like a second sunrise.

"Fine! If circus acts offend your delicate pride, let's discuss escape plan fifteen: you fake your death!" the sword huffed.

"I am not faking—"

"We dig a shallow grave—"

"Absolutely not."

"—you lie in it—"

"No."

"—and I give a very moving eulogy. Probably cry a little. Knights will be too uncomfortable to investigate."

Luther's eye twitched.

"YOU. CAN'T. CRY."

"I can if I try hard enough. You have no idea the emotional trauma I carry."

"…I'm going to melt you down."

The sword gasped "ABUSE!"

Luther didn't answer.

"Alright, enough. I have an idea," he said, speaking softly under his breath. The room filled with a soft glow. The sword shrieked in alarm as a perfect replica of Luther appeared under the covers, smirking in mimicry.

"WHAT?!" the sword clanged and sputtered. "Impossible! How—what is this sorcery?!"

"Shush. We don't need interruptions right now," Luther said casually. The clone folded its hands across its chest, feigning sleep. He adjusted his cloak over his shoulders, hood pulled low, and picked up the crown from the table, sliding it into his belt.

"Oh, for the love of—why the crown?" the sword sputtered.

"Master Mariana taught me a few tricks. The crown listens, doesn't talk, doesn't complain. Handy."

"Even I, a powerful, sentient blade, cannot produce a clone of myself! And you did it effortlessly?!"

"Wrap it up," Luther muttered, sliding the sword to his waist. Slowly, he opened the window. Outside, the knights were still oblivious. A smirk spread across his face as he leapt into the morning breeze.

The wind whistled past him, ruffling flags and awnings. Below, two villagers halted in mid-conversation, blinking at the sudden gust. A basket of bread teetered precariously on a stall.

"Was… that the wind?" one of them muttered.

"Probably. yeah. wind," the other replied hesitantly, looking around.

(Changed the dialogue setting from here... should I leave it or revalt back?)

Demonic Sword: "Wind? Wind?! That was me, Luther! I practically feel insulted!"

Luther: "Oh, calm down. No one saw a thing."

Demonic Sword: "No one? Ha! You mean they didn't notice a shadow flipping across rooftops like a possessed squirrel!"

Luther smirked and rolled into a crouch, sprinting across the tiles with silent precision.

Demonic Sword: "Tiles, Luther? Tiles?! One slip, one tiny misstep, and I'll—"

Luther: "Yes, yes. You'll scream dramatically and announce my imminent demise. Got it."

Demonic Sword: "Exactly! And you will be responsible for leaving my magnificent edge to rust in a ditch!"

Luther's lips twitched. "Rust away, buddy. Just try not to trip me while you're at it."

He leapt from one roof to the next, shadows clinging to him like a second skin.

Demonic Sword: "You know, for someone supposedly stealthy, you do make a lot of noise with those dramatic flips. I can hear your cape flapping like a startled bird from here!"

Luther: "Stealthy enough that no one sees me, isn't it?"

Demonic Sword: "Seen? Perhaps not. Heard, however… you're a one-man windstorm!"

From a window, Elrin gestured emphatically as she spoke to the elders.

"You want the emerald crystals back?" one elder asked, his voice trembling with equal parts fear and respect.

Elrin planted her foot firmly, hands on her hips. "If you want them, speak to Saint Luther. I'm not meddling in this. Do not disturb him. You were warned."

Heavy silence befell the elders. "He was injured… we won't disturb him," one of them finally muttered.

Elrin huffed in satisfaction but then froze. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she sensed movement along the rooftops. "Hmm… something's coming," she murmured, voice low.

Luther, pressed against a chimney, whispered: "Almost got caught. That would've been embarrassing."

Demonic Sword: "Embarrassing? More like catastrophic! Imagine me lying broken on the cobblestones while you do rooftop gymnastics!"

Luther leapt across a wide gap between buildings, barely sticking the landing. "I think I'll take my chances."

Demonic Sword: "Take your chances? You mean risk your neck so you can impress the trees?"

Demonic Sword clanged as he swung slightly from Luther's waist, sparks flying from tiles as the sword bickered in its usual metallic voice.

Luther: "You'd rather be a dull, stationary sword? Sorry, buddy, that's not our style today."

Demonic Sword: "Dull? Stationary? Ha! I am legendary! And you, acrobat extraordinaire, are turning me into a rolling hazard!"

The dark, thick forest loomed before them, whispering promises of danger. The memory of yesterday's explosions still lingered, a sharp reminder of how deadly the emerald crystals were.

Approaching the town gate, his eyes scanned the crowd to see Eldric moving amidst them. His broad frame slipped through people like water, silent and precise.

Demonic Sword: "Huh… impressive. For a man that size, he moves like a shadow. How…?"

Luther: "Not impressive. Suspicious. There's something he's hiding."

With that, Eldric vanished into the dark silhouette of Enferi Forest. A smirk twisted Luther's lips.

"Well, well… let's see what the cat dragged out of the bag."

He dropped softly to the forest floor, crouching to examine the surroundings. The damp smell of moss and earth intermingled with faint metallic tangs. The emerald crystals strewn about on the ground glimmered faintly, as if hiding their secrets.

Demonic Sword: "Remember, kid, the forest isn't just a forest. Someone—or something—doesn't want you here."

Luther: "I got this… probably."

Every step into the forest felt deliberate. Branches twisted like gnarled fingers; leaves brushed against his arms in seeming warning. Luther's eyes were scanning constantly, his fingers brushing the roots where the crystals lay partially embedded. The memory of yesterday's explosion made him flinch.

Demonic Sword: "Careful now! One wrong move and you'll be dancing with vines, roots, and probably a rock. Imagine how spectacular that fall would look—oh, the glory!"

Luther crouched low, hand hovering over the first shard. "Alright… let's figure this out."

A rustle behind him announced Eldric's presence. The noble stepped lightly onto the path, stopping a few meters away. He didn't see Luther, but his mere presence heightened tension.

Demonic Sword: "Ah… there's the suspicious noble. Wonder what secrets he hides."

Luther: "Not innocent. That much is clear."

A sudden rustling brought a deer bolting out of the underbrush. Luther's pulse jumped, but he caught it with a mischievous grin. "Guess we're both hunting something today, eh?"

Demonic Sword: "Don't make jokes now! There's nothing funny about dying in a forest because you thought a deer was Eldric."

Luther crouched lower, ready to probe the mysterious connection between the emerald shards and the black crystal. The forest loomed dark and silent, shadows stretching out like claws. Every step brought him nearer to the answers—and perhaps nearer to danger.

As he carefully navigated, a villager carrying a basket of eggs tripped over a root. Luther was there in an instant, catching the basket before the eggs shattered.

"Thanks!" the villager gasped.

"Just… do better with your footing," Luther said, already disappearing into the underbrush.

"Ah, rescue missions now? You're turning into a hero—or a fool!" the sword complained.

Luther rolled his eyes, scanning the emerald glimmers that pulsed faintly beneath the forest canopy. He crouched, hands hovering over a shard. Sparks from the sword reflected in the crystal's facets.

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