Luther wasn't sure what to process first.

The fact that Eldric—grumpy, quiet, normal-haired Eldric—was now glowing with an ethereal golden shimmer, pointy ears sharp enough to cut through moral principles, hair cascading down like a shampoo commercial gone divine…

Or the fact that the monster they thought was dead lifted its ruined, half-melted head from the ground again and screamed like it had swallowed a choir of dying goats.

Hard to pick.

Luther slowly dragged a palm down his face.

…Of course it's an elf.

Of course Eldric was secretly a girl.

Of course I was right all along that something about him—her? them??—was off.

Why? Why can't ONE DAY be normal?

The monster's body trembled as it stumbled back to its massive feet. A thick, bubbling hatred rolled off it as it glared straight at the freshly transformed blonde elf. Its eye sockets vibrated as it focused on Eldric… Eldrette… whatever her name was now.

Its lips peeled back. "So that's where she was hiding… That scent… that crystal resonance… You thought you could disguise yourself as a human? Hah! Lower than dirt, girl!"

Luther blinked.

Girl. Definitely girl. Alright. Mystery solved. I guess.

The monster cackled through cracked teeth. "I was only guessing earlier—trying my luck! Who knew I would strike gold?! But who would have thought you would go low as to hide amongst the flesh bags and vermin that were lower than even dirt! But no matter..."

"I'll rip you apart and—"

SHING.

A slash of light ripped the monster—and the conversation—in half. Its upper torso flew backwards, skidding across the ground before smashing into a broken pillar.

Luther stared blankly at the sizzling cut etched into the stone.

Then at Eldric.

Then back at the cut.

Then back at her, floating slightly above the ground like gravity had decided she no longer needed to be part of the world.

"…Yeah," Luther muttered. "Okay. That's normal. That's fine. Totally fine. Sure. Why not. I give up."

The sword around his neck chimed—chimed—and let out a low whistle.

"Oooh. She's pretty. Definitely elf. But not full elf. Mmm, look at that mana glow—someone has extra seasoning in their bloodline."

Luther snapped quietly, "Seasoning? What is she, fried chicken?"

The sword gasped dramatically. "You wouldn't appreciate the artistry of blood purity even if it danced naked in front of you."

"I don't want blood dancing naked in front of me."

"Prude."

Luther groaned and pressed two fingers to his temple.

But before Luther could argue, a new sound cut through the air.

A low, feminine sneer.

Luther turned.

The now fully transformed elf rose to her feet with a graceful, fluid motion, dust swirling around her ankles. Her eyes—once Eldric's dull gray—were now bright, crystalline gold. Sharp. Calculating. Beautiful enough to make any painter retire.

She tilted her head at the monster, voice sharp as broken glass.

"The monster had the audacity to disturb my rest. And I actually liked that form."

She stepped forward, her golden eyes glowing like twin suns.

"How annoying."

She flicked her gaze to Luther, then away, then back, then narrowed her eyes.

Luther stiffened.

"Don't interfere," she snapped, kicking off the ground so hard the dust cracked.

Luther raised his hands. "Wasn't planning to! Be my guest! Kill it, marry it, I don't care!"

"Glad we understand each other," she said coolly before vanishing from sight.

The monster barely had time to raise its claws.

SHOCKWAVE.

She appeared behind it, kicking it into the air.

CRACK.

She twisted her body, delivering a second blow that sent the monster tumbling like a ragdoll.

The sword hummed in Luther's ear. "Fast. Very fast. And angry. I like her."

Luther deadpanned, "Because she's violent or because she could stab me on your behalf?"

"Yes."

The air boomed as the monster attempted to counterattack, spraying acidic saliva in a wide arc. The elf twirled, effortlessly avoiding every drop as she summoned a bow made of pure magic, drawing back a shimmering arrow.

"You were bragging earlier," she said coldly, mana crackling above her open palm. "But you're weak. Weak as fu—"

The arrow released with a deafening blast, cutting the monster's legs out from under it.

KA-BOOM

Bodies hitting the ground sounded quieter than the echo that followed.

For a moment, everything stilled.

The monster twitched.

The elf sniffed, unimpressed. "Disgusting."

Luther blinked the dust out of his eyes.

Okay… so she's strong. Very strong. Good for her. Good for us. Great for survival.

Terrible for my mental stability.

He rubbed his forehead.

What next? Is she secretly royalty too? A goddess? A long-lost magical potato incarnate? Why not. The world is chaotic anyway.

She gave the monster a bored glance as it finally dissolved into ash, the remnants drifting away on the wind like miserable confetti.

Then she turned.

Directly to him.

Luther's spine straightened instinctively. "Okay nope—no, no, no—don't come closer. Personal space—holy space—whatever space—just—"

She took another step.

He took another step back.

She narrowed her eyes.

He raised his hands again. "Look, I don't know if you're still Eldric—partially Eldric—Eldrette—El—something—but let's just calm down and talk like civilized beings who aren't secretly hiding a thousand-year-old bloodline—"

She moved.

He flinched.

The sword shrieked, "OH SHE'S COMING—SORRY YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN LUTHER GOOD LUCK—"

But the elf did not attack.

She stopped directly in front of him.

Her bright gold eyes stared straight into his soul, unblinking, reverent, judging him with the intensity of a spiritual debt collector.

And Luther, bracing for impact, closed his eyes.

…

Nothing.

No punch.

No kick.

No stabbing.

No magical sterilization of the environment.

Instead—

SHE FELL TO HER KNEES.

The sword went dead silent.

Luther stared.

She bowed her head deeply, long golden hair spilling like a curtain around her shoulders, voice clear, strong, and laced with something ancient.

"My lord…"

Luther's brain short-circuited.

My WHAT??

The elf placed one fist against her chest.

"My lord Yieli…"

She lifted her eyes to meet his.

"Son of Asmethan."

Luther's jaw fell open.

The words slammed into the air like the toll of a divine bell.

Luther's thoughts:

Huh????

HUHH?????

EXCUSE ME WHAT KIND OF FAMILY TREE DID I FALL OUT OF?!

The sword whispered dramatically—

"Oh. Ohhhh this is bad. This is VERY bad. You're SO dead. Or revered. Or hunted. Or married. Possibly all three."

Luther's only reaction was—

"Huh???"

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