Luther didn't even have time to process the weirdness of Eldric before Elrin, still bowing low, finally stood upright. At Aithur's calm order, "Take us to the sick" she gave a curt nod and turned, shouting over her shoulder for the villagers to prepare a place for their guests. Her tone had a mix of urgency and pride; clearly, she was trying to keep her composure despite the chaos.

Liliana's sharp eyes darted around as she turned to Jio and the knights.

"Keep the carriages safe," she said coldly. "And stay on guard."

Her expression gave away nothing, neither worry nor fatigue, only the blank focus of someone who had seen too much to be easily rattled.

Luther watched Elrin walk away before sighing. "Guess that's our cue," he muttered, following after her. Alina and Liliana immediately fell into step behind him like loyal guards, though between the three of them, Luther was certain he looked the least holy.

But one person didn't move. Aithur stood still, arms crossed, eyes on Eldric.

The young scholar was… smiling?

Luther glanced back, noticing the faint twitch of amusement at the corner of Aithur's mouth. "What's with that face?" he called, voice carrying just enough sarcasm to make Elrin flinch. "You plan to admire him till nightfall?"

Aithur ignored him, focusing on Eldric. "Aren't you coming along?"

Eldric jumped, nearly dropping his pouch of crystals. "Ah! W-well, my Duke, I… I'd rather examine these emeralds first." His voice cracked halfway through, and he quickly adjusted his glasses, pretending confidence. "They're… fascinating. I've never seen such concentrated energy density!"

Aithur arched a brow. "So you want to wander alone in an unknown town full of cursed people?"

Eldric gulped. "It's not wandering, my Duke. It's research."

Luther smirked, clapping Aithur lightly on the shoulder. "Let the man go. Worst case, he gets eaten by a glowing crystal. That's one less mouth to feed."

"Saint Luther," Aithur replied in a deadpan tone, "your compassion overwhelms me."

"Glad to be of holy service," Luther said with mock reverence.

Aithur exhaled and finally said, "Fine. Be back before sundown."

Eldric lit up like a child given candy. "Thank you, my Duke! I won't disappoint you!" He stuffed a few quills and a notepad into his satchel before scampering off toward the market.

Aithur watched him go, then muttered, "He's going to blow something up, isn't he?"

"Most likely," Luther replied dryly.

Just then, a villager approached, bowing. "Sir Duke, we have prepared your accommodations."

"Perfect," Aithur said with a faint smirk. "Knights, follow me. I need rest—and maybe a hot cup of cocoa if the gods still love me."

Liliana raised an eyebrow. "You drink cocoa?"

"Only when I'm pretending to be civilized," Aithur said as he turned toward the lodgings.

The scene shift as a creaky wooden door opened, revealing a dimly lit hall that smelled faintly of herbs and something metallic. Elrin entered first, followed by Luther, Alina, and Liliana.

Rows of beds lined the room, but none of the people in them looked injured. They were simply… sleeping.

No shallow breathing, no sweat or fever — just peaceful, unnatural slumber.

Luther's brow furrowed. "You've got to be kidding me."

He stepped forward before Elrin could speak, kneeling beside one of the sleeping men. He checked the man's pulse, then touched his wrist. "He's not dead."

"No," Elrin said softly. "They're sleeping. But it's not normal. It's been a week, and no matter what noise we make, they never wake."

Luther exhaled, straightening. "A week-long nap. Lucky bastards."

"Saint Luther," Alina said sharply, crouching beside him, "this isn't a joke."

He gave her a sidelong glance. "If I don't joke, I'll start screaming."

Liliana's voice was calm but edged. "When did this start?"

"For everyone," Elrin said, frowning in thought, "the days were different. But—yes. They all collapsed after coming back from the forest."

Luther's gaze snapped to her. "Forest?"

"Enferi Forest," she said. "We've hunted there for generations. It's always been safe… until now."

Luther hummed, crouching again. His hand hovered over the man's chest, golden light sparking around his fingertips. His magic spread like ripples over the sleeping villager, for a moment, the man's fingers twitched, his lips parting.

Then the emerald crystal on his neck flared bright green.

The light surged—and Luther felt it. His magic, being pulled.

"What the—?!" He yanked his hand back, but it was too late, his golden energy was gone, absorbed cleanly into the crystal.

He blinked. "Did that thing just eat my magic?"

Alina's expression mirrored his shock. "It shouldn't be possible."

Elrin gasped. "That— that's not supposed to happen! These crystals only amplify light for our lamps—"

Luther cut her off. "Amplify, huh? More like devour." His tone was cold enough to chill the air. "Everyone here wearing one of those crystals?"

Elrin hesitated. "Yes, it's our village symbol—"

"Take. Them. Off."

She flinched. "But—"

Liliana stepped forward, hand on her sword. "Do as he says. Those crystals are not what they seem."

The command in her tone made the villagers move. Hesitant but obedient, they began removing the emerald necklaces from the sleeping bodies. The crystals were piled together, their glow dimming as if sulking.

Luther studied the villagers once more. "Healing each one will take hours," he muttered. "And I've already had my magic chewed once today."

He rubbed the back of his neck, mind racing. Think, Luther. You've done this before… kind of.

Then, a memory flickered, a scene from a manga in his previous life. A saint standing over hundreds, hands clasped, healing them all with a single prayer.

He grimaced. "Of course it involves praying."

Alina tilted her head. "What?"

"Nothing." He sighed deeply. "Just me cursing the author of my life."

Alina blinked. "Saint Luther?"

"Don't call me that," he muttered. "Now stand behind me, and don't touch anything glowing unless you want to become a nightlight."

He walked to the center of the room, closing his eyes for a moment. Alright, stupid gods… I'm only doing this once.

The air stilled.

Then Luther's magic flared, not as a soft glow this time, but as a storm of light.

Golden threads spiraled upward, filling the old hall with a warmth so pure it made the air hum. Dust motes turned to glitter, the shadows along the walls retreating as if afraid to touch his light.

He raised one hand, palm open, and the light flowed from him like molten dawn, stretching, branching, weaving itself into luminous rivers. The villagers' faces, bathed in gold, began to twitch, their fingers curling, their hearts restarting beneath the spell's radiance.

Every movement Luther made carried an unintentional grace, not the poise of a priest, but the raw, unrefined divinity of a man who never asked for holiness yet was forced to bear it. His hair caught the light, glowing faintly, his cloak rippling as if caught in a wind that only his magic could feel.

Even Alina forgot to breathe. "Beautiful…" she whispered.

Liliana's hand loosened on her sword, awe flickering across her usually cold expression.

Elrin sank to her knees, whispering a prayer under her breath. The scent of wildflowers and rain filled the air, faint but real, as if the world itself was responding to his magic.

Luther's eyes half-opened, golden light swirling within his pupils like liquid fire. The sight alone could make a believer out of an atheist — and yet the man himself looked entirely unimpressed.

Inside, his thoughts were far from saintly.

Oh great, now my hands are glowing. Perfect. Exactly what I needed. Let's add "divine disco ball" to my résumé.

The glow intensified, his magic touching every sleeping villager. He felt each heartbeat resume, one after another, like flickering candles being relit in the dark.

And through it all, Luther muttered under his breath,

"Stupid light magic… stupid glowing hands… stupid holy wind… If any god is watching, I hope your chair breaks."

Alina's lips twitched despite the seriousness of the moment.

Liliana looked at him, expression unreadable. "For someone channeling divine power, you sound awfully ungrateful."

"Ungrateful?" Luther shot back without opening his eyes. "I'm being generous. I didn't swear."

A soft groan echoed nearby. One of the men stirred awake, blinking weakly. Elrin gasped, tears filling her eyes. "By the heavens… he's waking up!"

Luther's light flared once more, a final pulse, gentle as sunrise, before fading away. He exhaled hard, sweat dripping down his temple.

As the first villager sat up, coughing softly, Luther muttered, "And he owes me a drink."

The others began to wake in slow succession, confused but alive. Joy spread through the hall like wildfire, villagers weeping, calling out names, clutching their loved ones. Even Alina looked moved.

"You did it," she whispered.

Luther cracked one eye open and smirked. "Of course I did. I'm amazing. Tell the gods they owe me a raise."

Then, before anyone could laugh, something changed.

A sound. Soft at first, a faint hum.

Then sharper, like cracking glass.

Luther's head turned toward the pile of emeralds in the corner. The crystals were glowing again, no longer faint, but blinding, violent green. The air trembled with energy.

They were burning

Luther frowned.

"Ah, crap."

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