The sun was already high when we left the village. Now, we traveled along the dirt path leading to the forest known as Whisperveil Forest. After a few minutes, we reached the entrance.
It was vast—stretching endlessly in all directions. In the distance, I spotted a massive tree to the northwest.
"What a big tree," I murmured to myself, staring in awe.
My father, Draven, heard me as he drove the carriage we'd borrowed.
"Ah, that tree... there's a labyrinth hidden behind it. It grew abnormally large from absorbing a massive amount of mana," he explained, glancing at me like a parent amused by a child's curiosity.
Then, he turned to my mother, Monica, with a mischievous smirk. She twitched slightly, a vein visible on her forehead, and returned the smirk with a creepy smile.
I watched them, confused.
In the next moment, my father calmly returned his gaze to the road, as if nothing had happened.
As we journeyed deeper, the surroundings remained oddly peaceful. No monsters. No creatures. Just an eerie, unnatural silence.
"Isn't it strange? Chief Holt warned us about monsters, but there's nothing here," Draven muttered, unease creeping into his tone.
"And it's too quiet," Monica added.
I looked around, feeling the heavy air thickening behind us. A chill ran down my spine.
"I have a bad feeling about this," I whispered, instincts from a past life stirring.
Draven, noticing my expression, quickly reassured me.
"Yes, it's strange, but maybe that's a good thing. Right, Monica?" He gave her a meaningful glance.
Catching the cue, Monica smiled and looked into my eyes.
"That's right. Don't worry, Cain. Leave it to us. Whatever's out there, we'll protect you."
Her words echoed in my mind.
Protect me? Because I'm their son? Is this what parents do?
Confusion swirled inside me. Before I could say anything, Monica hugged me tightly.
"Mother!" I yelped from the sudden embrace.
"Don't worry, Cain. Just leave it to us," she said gently.
"That's right. We'll beat up anything that shows up!" Draven added cheerfully. "Let's keep moving."
The carriage continued through the forest. Hours passed, and the sun approached its peak.
"It's noon. We should find a safe place to rest and eat," Draven said.
"Agreed," Monica replied, patting my head as I napped in her lap.
Soon, we found a quiet spot near a tree bearing vibrant fruit. While Draven prepared our meal, Monica gently woke me.
"Cain," she whispered, cupping my cheeks.
"Look, dear. Isn't he adorable when he's asleep?" she said to Draven.
"Of course! He's our son," Draven replied proudly.
Monica smiled and turned to me. "Wake up, Cain. Eat before going back to sleep."
Groggy, I sat up, still half-asleep.
"Now, come on and eat," she said again.
Draven handed me a bowl of soup with a proud grin.
"I cooked this myself."
"You did?" I blinked in surprise. Monica usually did all the cooking.
"It's your birthday. I wanted you to taste my cooking," he said warmly.
I didn't know how to respond. Instead, I began to eat.
This is good... Father's cooking is really good...
Monica and Draven watched with smiles.
"I've never seen Cain eat like that when I cook," Monica said, pretending to sulk.
"Yours is better, of course. Maybe he's just reacting to the change," Draven reassured her.
Pleased, she puffed out her chest. "Of course mine's better, right Cain?"
Startled, I looked up. "Ah... yes!"
"So Cain, now that you're five, what do you want for your future? What birthday gift do you want? We'll make it happen," Draven said, patting my head.
What do I want...? I began to think.
But then—the horses neighed violently.
"Monica, stay with Cain," Draven ordered, eyes sharpening.
He reached into the carriage and pulled out a hidden sword. My eyes widened. I never knew that was there.
Monica stepped in front of me, her eyes closing as a white mana glow formed around her.
"Search," she cast.
A pulse of magic spread across the area.
"Draven!" she shouted.
"Stay and protect Cain!" he replied, gripping his sword tightly.
From the shadows emerged figures—not monsters of fantasy, but monsters born of men.
Bandits.
They were the true beasts of this world—merciless, greedy, and driven by cruelty.