The Reluctant Hero: Why Is Everyone After Me?

Hello Everyone. I'm Back (^-^)

I had to put the book on hold due to many things, and writers block was one of those things, but I'm back to continue the story.

My updates may not be frequent but I will be trying my best. If not 2 chapters per day then 1 chapters per day put I will try to be constant.

NOW ON TO THE STORY!!!!!!

===============================

Eldric huffed for what seemed like the twentieth time in the last five minutes. His boots crunched over the glowing moss carpeting the forest floor, each step releasing faint puffs of greenish light that danced up like startled fireflies.

The deeper they went into Enferi Forest, the thicker the emerald glow became. Trees twisted around each other as if whispering secrets, their trunks veined with shimmering crystal-like roots. The air shimmered faintly — as though holding its breath. A normal man would be terrified.

But Eldric, stubborn noble with more pride than sense, marched forward with a fixed expression, determined, focused… and glaring at every shadow like it had personally offended him.

A twig cracked behind him.

Eldric spun so fast his cloak tangled around his legs.

He scanned the trees, the shadows, the moss, the leaves, the very air—eyes narrowed like a hawk that hadn't eaten in a week.

But, of course, he saw nothing.

Because the "nothing" was a boy crouched behind a mossy boulder, pinching the bridge of his nose as if Eldric's paranoia alone was giving him migraines.

Luther crouched, one hand gripping the edge, the other pressed over the sword necklace on his chest, trying not to breathe loudly.

The sword's muffled voice vibrated against his chest.

"This blasted forest's aura is getting thicker. Look at that glow— it's practically screaming 'trial of emerald incoming,'" it complained. "I'm telling you, if we go any deeper the trees will start lecturing us about morality."

Luther nodded absently, peeking out again.

"Yeah… but what I want to know is— how in all that's holy—or unholy—Eldric knows where the hell he's going."

Luther sighed, bored. "He could at least walk in a straight line. He looks like a lost chicken trying to remember where it laid its egg."

The sword rattled indignantly. "Do chickens even—wait, that's not the point! The point is—why is he so confident? He said it was his first time traveling in this continent!"

The sword lowered its voice. "So how, exactly, does Sir 'I'm-Trembling-But-I-Will-Pretend-I'm-Not' know this path?"

Luther sighed. "How am I to know that?"

The sword sputtered.

"W-Well maybe he bribed the trees? Maybe he has a map? Maybe he— LOOK, hiding behind a rock won't give you answers!"

"And why is he humming like someone who knows exactly where he's going? The guy flinches at his own footsteps, but suddenly he's a forest guide?"

The sword lowered its voice even more.

"…Ask him."

Luther turned slowly, deadpan.

"You want me to walk out of the bushes and greet him with 'hello suspicious noble, care to explain your suspiciousness?'"

"Yes!" the sword said proudly.

"No."

The sword clattered in frustration. "Coward."

Luther smirked, pushing himself to his feet.

"Oh, gladly. Annoying nobles are easier to deal with than you anyway."

"EXCUSE ME—"

But Luther was already sprinting off, boots light on the moss, slipping through a cluster of thick branches and sliding behind a mound of root formations as Eldric continued forward.

Eldric finally stopped.

Luther froze behind a coiled root, watching the noble's breath catch as he stepped into a small clearing.

And then—there it was.

A massive tree dominated the center. Its trunk was wide enough to swallow a house, with etched markings swirling around it like ancient runes. Vines hung down, each vine thick and heavy, and dangling from them—

Emerald crystals.

Dozens. No—hundreds.

They swayed gently despite the windless air, glowing with the same strange hue that seeped through the rest of the forest.

The demonic sword whistled lowly.

"Ah. The Tree of Aetherion. Or, at least, one of them. Haven't seen this baby in centuries."

Luther opened his mouth.

"You know something—?"

"Nope."

"Don't 'nope' me, old man. You literally just—"

"Shhhh. Look, Eldric is moving."

Luther narrowed his eyes suspiciously but turned back anyway.

Eldric dropped to his knees beside the gigantic trunk, his breathing uneven. He reached into his satchel with trembling fingers… and pulled out an emerald crystal.

Luther's eyebrows shot up.

"The bastard stole one," he whispered.

The sword nodded.

"Yes. From the village shrine. That one specifically belongs to the Guardian of the Forest. Someone's going to get murdered today and it is NOT going to be me."

Eldric lifted the gem with both hands, staring at it as though holding the heart of the world. His face softened— almost tender.

"He looks like he's proposing to it," Luther whispered.

"Humans are weird."

Then, Eldric's expression changed.

Softness shattered. His pupils shrank.

Realization—no, betrayal—crashed over his face.

"It's fake," Eldric whispered.

Then louder.

"It's fake."

Then he screamed.

"It's FAKE! THIS—THIS IS A DAMN COUNTERFEIT!"

His voice echoed violently through the clearing. Birds scattered. The tree's leaves rustled in irritation.

Eldric hurled the stolen emerald crystal to the ground, his hands shaking as he raked them through his hair.

"I came all the way— ALL THE WAY here! And THIS is what I get?! A fake? A FAKE!"

He stomped on the crystal like it had personally wronged his ancestors.

Luther watched flatly.

"…Maybe he's losing it."

"Maybe?" the sword snorted. "My dear boy, he jumped off the cliff into insanity ten minutes ago."

Luther sighed.

"At this point, I'm starting to believe the forest gives everyone brain damage."

Eldric, meanwhile, was still spiraling.

"All those hints! All my research! All the clues! YEARS of trying to track down the real gems! And NOW— now I find a fake?!"

He slammed his fist into the ground.

"These aren't real! They're not reacting at all! Where— WHERE is the real one?! WHERE IS THE TRUE EMERALD?!!"

Luther tapped his chin.

"Should we tell him he's literally talking to a tree?"

"Let him cook."

Luther glared.

"Cook what? His sanity?"

"Yes."

Eldric finally slumped against the massive trunk, panting like a dying dog.

His fingers dug into the moss.

"It was supposed to be here… The real one… The one that reacts to bloodline… And yet— nothing. NOTHING!"

His breath hitched, dangerously unsteady.

This was no small disappointment.

This was obsession. Personal. Almost religious.

Luther whispered, "Wow. He's actually cracking."

"Took him long enough," the sword added.

Luther snorted— but the amusement was short-lived.

For the first time, the emerald crystals flickered.

Dimmed.

Brightened.

Dimmed again.

The air tightened. Pressed in.

Luther felt the hairs on his arms stand.

"…Sword."

"Yes?"

"Why are the crystals reacting?"

The sword gave a very suspicious cough.

"Well— funny story— I might know what those crystals are but, uh… I'm not telling."

"Old man—"

"Nope. You get one forest lecture for free. History only. Classified information stays classified."

"You— YOU'RE USELESS—"

"Don't interrupt me. Ahem. Anyway. A thousand years ago, these crystals were grown by—"

"—TELL ME WHAT THEY DO."

"No."

Luther clenched his jaw, murderous intent radiating.

"Why are you like this?"

"Because your suffering empowers me."

Luther inhaled sharply.

"You spiteful antique."

"Proud of it."

Before Luther could continue his verbal assault, a sound split the air.

Clap.

A single, sharp clap echoed through the clearing.

Eldric froze immediately. His head snapped toward the sound.

Luther ducked back instinctively—but peeked.

From behind another tree, a silhouette leaned casually against the trunk, arms crossed.

The figure chuckled.

"Oh dear~ look at this. A noble throwing a tantrum over a fake gem. How pitiful."

The voice was smooth. Dark. Amused.

Eldric's breath stopped.

He slowly rose, hand trembling as he reached for his dagger.

"Who's… there?"

The figure didn't answer.

The emerald crystals pulsed again — brighter.

Luther's heart hammered.

The sword whispered, tone suddenly deadly serious.

"…Boy. That's not a forest creature."

Luther swallowed.

"Then what is it?"

The sword's remained silent.

Eldric turned fully now, pupils dilated with a mixture of fear and fury.

The camera— metaphorically—never shows the person.

Only Eldric's expression as it contorts in shock.

His voice cracks.

"Y-You—?!"

The figure only laughs softly.

Almost… polite.

Like greeting an old friend.

"Hello, Eldric."

Eldric's dagger slips from his hand.