The carriage moved steadily along the dirt road at a constant pace, its massive wheels leaving deep ruts behind. Cassia, still dressed in men's clothing, drove neither fast nor slow. Fields of wheat stretched out on either side, rolling gently past as the family traveled peacefully and uneventfully.
Inside the carriage, the two children sat with their eyes closed.
"How many scarecrows were standing in the field to the right?" Katerina asked.
"Six," came Grace's bright reply.
"And what hats were they wearing?"
"Three straw hats, two without any hats, and one was missing its head," answered the boy's voice in turn.
"How many windows were in the chapel?"
"Two windows flanking the entrance and three on each side wall," the children answered without opening their eyes, struggling to remember.
"What trees did you see in the village to the left?"
"Apple trees, grapevines, pear trees, cherry trees, and apricot trees," they answered together.
"You forgot the oak tree standing in the center. Grace wins!"
At those words, the children opened their eyes. The girl immediately slid into her mother's arms, expecting her to play with her long hair — styling it into braids or some other playful arrangement. Meanwhile, Gray stared gloomily out the window, determined to win tomorrow's challenge.
The family had been playing a simple game. Every morning after waking, the children were allowed to look out the carriage windows for just one minute — observing and memorizing as much of the passing landscape as possible. Afterward, their mother would quiz them on random details. Whoever answered most accurately won and was granted a small wish: choosing breakfast, hearing a favorite story, or picking the next rest stop.
It had been a month since they set out on their journey. Over that time, they had covered a significant distance, crossing vast fields, mighty rivers, and numerous small settlements.
The lands they now traversed were simple farming territories. But looming ahead was the Deepwood Forest — the real challenge lying in their path.
The Deepwood Forest was a natural barrier within the Magical Empire, teeming with rich and dangerous wildlife, comparable to the famed Elven continent, Yggdrasil. However, unlike the more welcoming Endless Forests of Rome, the Deepwood was a treacherous place, rife with monsters and outlaws who preyed on the unfortunate travelers daring to venture into its depths.
The rulers of the Empire treated the Deepwood as a private high-rank hunting ground and had no plans to clear it, despite the economic opportunities such a move would present.
Rumors said that even today, vast parts of the Deepwood remained unexplored — some areas so deadly that not even Heaven-ranked beings dared tread there.
Slowly, steadily, their carriage rolled into the shadowy embrace of the forest. Inside, the children cuddled against their mother, blissfully unaware of the dangers surrounding them. To them, this was simply another change of scenery, nothing more. How could they know otherwise? Their mother's quiet, ever-watchful protection shielded them from all harm.
Soon, the road narrowed until overhanging branches clawed at the sides of the wagon like ghostly hands. The leaves whispered and creaked in the gentle breeze. Cassia, holding the reins, remained alert, her eyes narrowed as she listened intently to every rustle.
Suddenly, a loud crack snapped through the forest — a squirrel, startled by their presence, darted out from the undergrowth, nearly colliding with the carriage wheels. Cassia had to pull hard on the reins to avoid hitting it, jerking the wagon to an abrupt halt.
"Well, there's a reward for vigilance," Cassia chuckled, glancing back and seeing the startled faces inside.
"Ah, a squirrel!" Grace squealed, woken by the sudden stop.
"Stay focused, Cassius. We're in the Deepwood," Katerina reminded her calmly, still addressing her servant by her assumed "husband's" name. Even though no one was around, Katerina didn't want the children thinking their game of disguises was over.
Ten minutes later, Cassia realized why her mistress had insisted on maintaining vigilance. The sounds of clashing weapons echoed through the trees, growing closer with every second. The narrow road left no room for escape — the carriage could only move forward or back. Drawing her daggers, Cassia prepared for battle.
"Assist the three ahead. Don't reveal your full strength — limit yourself to the late Mortal Stage. Make it look like you're desperately defending your family. Take a light wound, but do not let anyone near the carriage," came Katerina's firm but calm instructions. Cassia did not question them.
Soon, three figures burst out from the forest: a young blond man around twenty-five and two girls with cat-like ears and ash-gray hair, both appearing about seventeen. A dozen burly bandits chased them, grinning with wicked delight. It was clear the bandits were toying with their prey, dragging out their fear for their own amusement.
"Run! Get out of here!" the blond youth shouted desperately at the carriage.
They clearly didn't want to drag innocent bystanders into their mess, but there was no other path through the dense woods.
"Oh ho, boss, fresh meat! And what a prize!" one of the bandits crowed.
"Yeah, boss, look! Even a nice carriage for your noble self!" another added with a sneer.
"Ahhh, darling, WHAT SHOULD WE DO?! You have to protect us!" cried Katerina from inside the wagon, her voice filled with panic and helplessness.
Her acting was flawless. Even Cassia, playing the "husband," momentarily felt compelled to lay down her life to protect his "fragile wife" from these brutes.
It took all of Cassia's effort to keep a straight face.
"Fight with everything you've got. The children are in the carriage! I'll handle four and the leader," Cassia ordered coldly, her lips twitching slightly despite herself — a detail the bandits misread as bravado masking terror.
"Hell with it! Girls, we fight! We can't let them die because of us!" the blond man shouted, turning to make a stand.
Cassia was already moving. With a fluid, deadly motion, she plunged a dagger under the ribs of the nearest laughing bandit, killing him instantly. The other thugs' faces darkened. They realized they'd underestimated their prey.
"Kill that bastard! Playtime's over, you fucks!" roared the bandit leader, swinging a broad sword at Cassia.
"He's strong! Don't get sloppy or you'll lose your heads!" his second-in-command bellowed, rallying the others.
With Cassia tying up half their forces, the fleeing trio fought harder. The young man served as a "tank," wielding a greatsword to block the others. The smaller catgirl fired arrows precisely at distracted foes, while the older girl used magic to control plants, summoning vines from the earth to entangle and disrupt the enemy's formation.
Meanwhile, inside the wagon, the terrified children clung to their mother, cowering.
This was the first time they had witnessed such a brutal fight. Blood stained the ground; a severed hand lay in the dirt. Their confident, always-composed mother now shrank down with them, shielding their eyes.
Peeking through her trembling fingers, the children glimpsed a nightmare.
This wasn't a fantasy world where a heroic child grabs a sword to save the day. This was harsh reality. All they could do was close their eyes and pray, trying not to hear the screams and clash of steel.
Feigning fear, Katerina kept her full focus on her children's emotional state. She ignored the battle entirely. Every instinct screamed at her to step in and end this farce — but she hardened her heart.
There were no parenting guides here. No state welfare. No survival manuals for single mothers. Katerina did everything based solely on her own values, experiences, and imagination.
She wanted to raise her children strong and independent.
In this world, death was an everyday reality. Better they experience its shadow now, under her watchful eye, than later, when it might be too late.
She clenched her fists until they bled, forcing herself to believe this harsh method was necessary.
Whether she was right or wrong — only time would tell.
In the midst of it all, no one noticed how Gray's closed, terrified eyes began to pulse faintly — his black pupils expanding outward, threatening to swallow the whites of his eyes whole...