They were back in their room, but the sword was the first to speak that afternoon.

"When are we going to go out and fight monsters?" it whined in a tone far too animated for a cursed weapon that once terrorized kingdoms. "I swear I'm becoming dry—rusty! I wasn't forged for this endless sitting and listening to your sighs, boy."

Luther, who was currently fixing the clasp of his cloak, didn't even flinch. "Didn't you say you'd been sealed for a few centuries?" he replied dryly, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder. "You survived centuries without any killing, you can wait a little longer."

"That's different!" the sword argued, its red gem pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. "Back then, I was sealed. Now I'm free and bored out of my mind."

"Tragic," Luther muttered under his breath, beginning his walk through the temple's marble hallway. The sound of his boots echoed softly on the polished floor, catching the attention of several apprentices who bowed slightly as he passed. He gave them only a distracted nod in return, his mind elsewhere.

He had been thinking about what Elder Haro said during their lectures—the expedition to Enferi Forest.

Just the name was enough to stir a vague sense of unease and curiosity in his chest.

He has never been there before.

Enferi Forest was located far to the east, a journey that would take nearly two weeks on horseback, perhaps a month on foot. The route itself wasn't particularly friendly. To get there, they'd have to pass through Scali Land, a region populated by scaled beasts and the proud Lizardfolk who lived among them. Past that lay the River of Gan, a treacherous waterway that separated Scali from Enferi.

And beyond that river… was the forest of the elves.

"Elves?" the sword repeated the thought aloud, sounding skeptical. "Since when do you know about them? I don't recall that old priest teaching you elven history."

Luther paused in his walk and looked out one of the tall arched windows overlooking the training gardens. Apprentices were gathered below, their palms glowing as they channeled magic into flowerbeds. He watched a pair of them trying to make seeds bloom, laughter rising as petals fluttered in the air.

He jumped onto the window ledge, legs dangling freely as the afternoon sun bathed his white cloak in gold. "I didn't learn it here," he said, resting his chin on one hand. "Most of what I know came from my master—Mariana. She made it her mission to stuff as much knowledge into my skull as possible." His lips curved slightly. "History, magic control, the arts of defense and healing… you name it. The temple's lessons are child's play compared to hers."

The sword hummed, unimpressed. "So that's the witch who taught you how to glare at everyone like you've swallowed a lemon."

Luther chuckled under his breath. "You've met me for less than a month and already think you've got me figured out."

"Boy, you wear irritation like perfume."

He ignored the jab, leaning his back against the window frame and watching the gardens. "Enferi Forest… They say it's home to the elves, though no one's seen one in over a century. Some even claim they've gone extinct."

"Extinct?" the sword scoffed, the gem flaring in mild outrage. "Those arrogant tree-huggers? Impossible! They're like weeds—too stubborn to die." Its tone softened slightly, as if reminiscing. "I was sealed by one, you know. A smug little elf priestess who thought she was doing the world a favor. I remember her saying something like, 'As long as he exists, our line will guard the seal.'"

The blade pulsed faintly. "If I'm still here, I'll bet my edge they are too. Probably hiding. Or maybe just sick of mortals and their noise."

Luther tilted his head. "Noise?"

"Humans!" the sword groaned dramatically. "Always shouting, always building, always arguing about who has the biggest kingdom. No wonder the elves vanished. The last meeting I saw between a king and an elf ended with the elf cracking the king over the head with a branch."

Luther blinked. "…Excuse me?"

The sword cackled. "True story! The king wouldn't stop going on about how 'radiant and fair the elf women were,' and the elf finally lost patience. Smacked him right there in front of everyone. The poor idiot's empire got banned from Enferi for his entire reign."

A snort escaped Luther before he could stop it. "I definitely haven't read that in any history book."

"Of course not," the sword replied with pride. "Humans rewrite their pasts to make themselves look smarter. You think a king humiliated like that would want that story spread? Ha! If you want real history, you need a sword's memory, not a scholar's ink."

"Or a bard's exaggeration," Luther muttered.

"Blasphemy! My recollection is flawless."

Down below, the same young female apprentice who had been assigned to observe him was now showing her instructor a fully bloomed purple rose. Her expression was radiant as the instructor praised her. When she noticed Luther watching from the window, she waved excitedly—her grin wide and innocent.

Luther raised his hand in a lazy wave, lips twitching into a faint, amused smile. "She's improving fast," he said absently.

"She looks like she could faint if someone so much as sneezed near her," the sword remarked with mild disdain. "Fragile things, apprentices."

"Reminds me of you," Luther said.

"Excuse me!?" the sword sputtered, its gem flashing red.

Luther leaned back and folded his arms, ignoring the glare. "You complain more than she does."

"Ungrateful brat. I'm ancient! I've seen kingdoms rise and fall while you were still learning how to stand straight. You should be honored that I even speak to you."

"Right, right," Luther replied flatly. "You're basically an old man."

There was a pause.

Then—

Glow.

Before Luther could blink, the golden crown—formerly his holy staff—appeared in midair and dropped neatly onto his head. It shimmered, sparkling with divine light as the sword burst into howling laughter.

"BAHAHA! The staff agrees with me!" the sword cried between wheezes. "Oh, this is rich—look at you! A proper princess at last!"

Luther froze. "You've got to be kidding me." He reached up and tried to pull the crown off, but it refused to budge, the divine metal tightening slightly like it was mocking him. His eye twitched. "Why… does this keep happening?"

"Maybe because you deserve it!" the sword sang. "Your royal highness! Careful not to break a nail!"

Luther exhaled sharply, his patience visibly thinning. "One more word out of you and I'll use you as a coat hanger."

"You wouldn't dare—!"

"Try me."

The air between them vibrated with the tension of divine and demonic energies clashing ever so slightly. Sparks of light and crimson flickered, their little standoff painting the corridor in strange hues.

And then—

"...Luther?"

Both froze.

That voice.

Luther turned his head slowly toward the hallway's entrance, and then.

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