The Reluctant Hero: Why Is Everyone After Me?

Luther sighed.

For the seventh time in less than ten minutes.

His elbow rested lazily on the carriage window frame, cheek pressed against his palm, his eyes half-lidded as the scenery rolled by. Trees blurred together in streaks of green and gold, sunlight leaking through their leaves like liquid honey. The rhythmic clop of horses' hooves was steady, almost too steady, and it made the entire forest road feel endless.

Outside, the six knights rode in formation—three on each side—their polished armor glinting as the carriage rolled along the dirt path. At the front, an apprentice driver, a boy named Jio, held the reins with stiff focus, sweat running down the side of his face.

"Slow down on the slope!" one of the knights barked, voice echoing over the clatter.

"Yes, sir!" Jio stammered, pulling the reins slightly. The carriage rocked but steadied.

Inside, the air was much quieter—and ten times more suffocating.

Opposite Luther sat Liliana, her back perfectly straight, her crimson sword resting across her lap. Her eyes were closed, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Every inch of her radiated calm composure… except for the faint twitch at the corner of her eyebrow.

Luther sighed again, this time louder. A bird fluttered past the window, and he lazily followed it with his gaze, his reflection flashing in the glass—the same tired face, the same bored look.

They had been traveling for two days now.

Two. Whole. Days.

He didn't think it would take this long.

He still couldn't believe he'd been roped into this mission.

He slumped deeper into his seat, dragging his hand down his face dramatically.

"Still no sign of the marketplace, huh?" he muttered under his breath. "If I die of boredom before we get there, someone better tell the gods it's their fault."

The demonic sword lying beside him gave a long, exaggerated groan inside his mind.

"You sigh any louder, boy, and the dead will start answering."

Luther ignored it, which only earned a snicker from the sword.

He let his head fall back and stretched his arms until his shoulders popped. "When are we even reaching that blasted place? My stomach's been empty since dawn."

He peered at Liliana again, hoping for some kind of reaction.

Nothing. Her eyes stayed closed, her arms crossed.

He smirked.

"Oh come on," he drawled, "you could at least pretend to be talkative. We've been stuck in this moving box for hours. Are you sure you're not secretly a statue?"

The only response was the soft creak of her leather gloves tightening.

The irritation mark on her forehead deepened. Her grip on her sword shifted, fingers brushing the hilt. Luther noticed—and, of course, couldn't help himself.

"So, Miss Silent Statue," he continued with mock politeness, "when we reach the Marketplace of Whispers, are we going to—"

A sharp metallic sound interrupted him—shing!

Luther froze. His eyes darted down.

The sword hilt in Liliana's hand was halfway drawn from its sheath, the ruby gem shimmered, and the edge gleamed dangerously close to his nose.

Her crimson eyes had cracked open just enough to glare at him.

He blinked.

Then leaned back and raised both hands with a lopsided grin.

"Okay, okay. I'll shut up."

Inside his head, the demonic sword snickered. "She's got more self-control than I expected. Shame she didn't go through with it."

Luther gave the sword a sideways glare. "Don't tempt her."

"What? I'm just saying. She's doing the gods a favor to stop hearing your yapping."

Suppressing a laugh, Luther shrugged and crossed one leg over the other. "You can't blame me for being bored," he said aloud, half to Liliana, half to himself. "You dragged me along, remember? You can't expect me to just sit in silence for two weeks like some monk."

Liliana slowly exhaled through her nose, sheathed her sword again, and murmured without opening her eyes,

"Our journey will be shorter than that."

Luther frowned. "Huh?"

She didn't elaborate. She simply returned to her silent meditation. Luther tilted his head, suspicious, but after a few seconds decided it wasn't worth the effort. He slouched again, muttering dramatically under his breath.

"I swear, I'm traveling with a ghost."

Outside, the trees thinned, and a faint hum of voices began to rise. As the carriage turned a bend, the dense forest gave way to open fields dotted with tents, colorful stalls, and hundreds of people moving like a river of noise and color.

They had reached the Marketplace of Whispers.

The place was alive. As always.

Vendors shouted from both sides, the smell of roasted nuts and spices filled the air, musicians played near fountains, and banners fluttered from every post. As the Celestial carriage rolled through, people turned their heads, whispers following in its wake.

"Who are they?"

"Look at those knights—"

"That's a royal seal, isn't it?"

Luther leaned toward the window, pushing the curtain just enough to peek through. He could feel the gazes of onlookers brushing against the polished golden frame of their carriage. A part of him wanted to wave just to see their reactions.

And then he saw them.

A familiar trio near a bakery stall—a woman and two small children.

Recognition struck him like a quiet warmth in his chest.

It was the family they'd saved weeks ago from the thugs who had used corrupted black magic. The woman was laughing now, her hair tied back, the twins—a boy and a girl—each holding a loaf of bread in both hands. The store owner smiled, adding two bright apples as gifts, and the twins shouted, "Thank you!"

Luther's lips curved unconsciously into a smile.

For a fleeting moment, he felt… peaceful.

Liliana's eyes cracked open again, following his gaze. She saw the same family—the twins waving happily at the store owner—but said nothing. She closed her eyes again, though a faint softness flickered across her face before disappearing.

But Luther's moment of warmth was short-lived. A voice hummed inside his head.

"Strange, isn't it?" "The sword," he said, tone casual. "Royal carriages trailing each other like that."

Luther blinked, eyebrows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"That one behind us," the sword replied, smug amusement creeping in. "Navy blue with a silver crest. Been following since the forest."

Luther twisted his neck just enough to look back through the side window—and sure enough, a carriage the color of midnight blue followed at a careful distance. Its golden rims caught the sunlight, its curtains drawn tightly shut. A noble's carriage, no doubt.

He frowned. "Is it normal for royal carriages to travel together?"

"Depends on who's inside." The sword's voice carried a knowing edge. "But usually, it's a sign someone important doesn't trust them to travel alone."

Luther's frown deepened.

"Great. Just what we need. Someone important."

Liliana's calm voice suddenly cut in, startling him.

"Sit back properly," she said without opening her eyes. "You're making yourself an easy target."

He blinked, then quickly pulled his head back inside. "Right. Good point."

He flopped into his seat, crossing his arms, grumbling. "Killjoy."

"She's not wrong," the sword teased. "Your skull's big enough to make a perfect bullseye."

"Shut up," Luther muttered aloud.

The sword chuckled darkly. "You're welcome."

The tension settled thickly again, but the road began to open wider until it led them beneath a large marble archway engraved with glowing runes. They entered a wide, circular courtyard bustling with movement. The center of the yard was inscribed with a massive glowing rune, humming faintly.

A Travel Port.

Luther blinked in surprise, leaning forward.

"Wait a second… a Travel Port?"

He frowned, running a hand through his hair.

"Why didn't that thought come to my mind earlier?"

Travel Ports—magical runes that could instantly transport travelers across vast distances. Convenient, beautiful, and painfully expensive.

Like, rob-a-king's-vault expensive.

He groaned. "Right… because I'm broke."

Only nobles and royals could afford this kind of luxury. And here he was, the broke Commoner-Saint tagging along like baggage. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

One of the knights approached Liliana's window, bowing slightly.

"Countess, the portal's coordinates have been set. It can take us only as far as the Sea of Gan, since there's no existing travel point within the Enferi Forest."

Liliana nodded, replying curtly, "That's fine. Proceed."

The knight saluted and stepped away.

Luther tilted his head, half-smirking. "You could've mentioned we were traveling first-class."

Liliana opened one eye and said flatly, "You didn't ask."

He snorted, leaning back. "Fair enough."

Inside his head, the demonic sword gave a low laugh. "Imagine being broke but hitching rides with nobles. You really are something, boy."

Luther glared at it. "You can shut up now."

"Oh, but I'm enjoying the show."

The mages overseeing the Travel Port began their chant. All wearing blue crystal on their necks. The ground pulsed with faint blue light, and a soft vibration filled the air. Luther leaned back as a warm glow filled the carriage.

But before the spell was completed, the energy suddenly flickered—like a candle caught in the wind.

Outside, the navy blue carriage pulled to a stop beside theirs. Its emblem shimmered faintly—a silver serpent curled around a crown.

Luther's brows furrowed again. Something about that crest…

One of the guards approached the lead mage and whispered hurriedly into his ear. The mage's eyes widened slightly, then darted toward the navy carriage—and then, without a word, he turned back to his post and raised his hands, continuing the chant.

Luther's instincts prickled.

His stomach tightened with unease.

He didn't know why—but something felt wrong.

"Hey, Statue," he muttered, voice low. "Do you feel that?"

She opened her eyes, a small frown crossing her features. "Stay alert."

Before Luther could respond, the runes on the ground flared bright—too bright—and a heavy hum filled the air.

"Wait—" Luther started, but the sound swallowed his words.

A blinding light enveloped both carriages, the magic expanding outward like a breath, and then—

Everything vanished.