Rowan felt the familiar weight of the world settle on his shoulders again, but this time, it was mixed with the fierce resolve of a father. Alistair Bloodsworth was loose, and the King of Vampires had taken a personal interest in his youngest daughter. He needed to set up some new countermeasures.
"Alright, team," Rowan said, turning back to the carriage. "Back to the farm."
The children giggled and hopped back in. They were going to miss this cool forest and the beautiful aunty who looked so kind. They hoped to come back soon. They entered the carriage and the horses started forward, leaving the ancient secrets of the Dryad's Wood behind.
"Father," Alexia spoke, her voice still quiet. "The dryad's ironwood bark. It's incredibly rare. Its stability is unparalleled. Can I take a look later?"
"Sure thing." Rowan agreed and then looked towards Dante. "Dante, you will be reporting the vampire king's return?"
Dante, perched on the top of the carriage, nodded. "I will. And I will be looking for a very tall, very old vampire, and the shadowy woman that follows him."
Hearing about her sister's grandpa, Lilly interjected.
"So, Lu's grandpa is the biggest monster ever?" Lilly asked, her eyes shining with a strange mix of fear and admiration.
"He is the King of Vampires, Lilly," Selene replied, her tone even. "He is a master of magic and strategy. He is formidable. He has decided your little sister is important. That means we all have a very serious job to do now."
Rowan took a deep breath, the forest air filling his lungs. "And that job starts with a massive dinner and a lot of training. Selene, I want to take good care of Lilly's regimen."
He looked at Lucia, nestled against Alexia, her purple bat fluttering its tiny wings. "And you, Lu. Your job is to keep that little bat happy. He's our connection. But if he ever tells you to do something that feels wrong, you tell me immediately. Understand?"
Lucia nodded solemnly. "I understand, Daddy. The bat only likes cookies and shiny things, and it doesn't talk that much."
As they emerged from the forest and the familiar sight of the open fields and his farmhouse in the distance came into view, Rowan felt a strange sense of calm.
All he had to do was go back to his farm and not leave for a while. His farm was a fortress, one that even the strongest vampire would struggle against without his permission.
Rowan also decided that he needed to have a talk with the ninjas so they would let the Bloodsworth family know what he just learned. They shouldn't know about their founders deissaepreance yet. It was best to let them know.
The ninjas weren't allowed into the forest as dryads despise them, so they never saw what happened inside. He shook the reins, urging Shiori and Capper to pick up the pace.
"Home, everyone," Rowan said, his voice booming with renewed confidence. "It's almost lunch time."
Dante, hearing the mention of the beef roast, finally cracked a smile that could be seen even through his mask. "I'm staying for dinner, Rowan. You owe me more than just cookies for today's terror."
"You're family, Dante," Rowan chuckled. "You always stay for dinner."
The carriage rattled on, heading toward the farm, ready to return to their safe haven.
It didn't take long for them to make it back to the farm and when they did, Rowan set the brake and turned to his passengers.
"Alright, adventurers. We're home. Thanks for the help, Dante."
Dante hopped down from the roof of the carriage, stretching dramatically. "Just remember how hard you worked me friend. I require a tasty and filling lunch to recover from that trip."
"Lunch is imminent," Rowan promised. "Kids, head inside, wash up. Your Aunt Selene will start her training with Lilly right after we eat. Alexia, keep that sapling out of the light for now. Alex, go empty your pockets, I know you sneaked out a bunch of things from the forest."
The children scrambled out, their post-adventure excitement still high. Alexia clutched her wooden case, Alex pulled out a handful of mushroom samples and strange pebbles, and Darius carefully tucked his reclaimed sphere into his arms. Lucia's purple bat fluttered lazily off her shoulder and straight toward the kitchen window, perhaps drawn by the scent of the coming meal.
Selene stepped down, pulling off her gloves and tucking them into her belt. She met Rowan's gaze with a grim look.
"Alistair is awake, and he's moving," she said quietly. "I'll start with Lilly, but I'll also be assessing the exterior of the farm. We need better wards, more aggressive ones."
"Agreed," Rowan nodded. "But first, horses. Then lunch. Go get a new tunic on, Lieutenant. I want to see how sharp your rapier is."
Selene gave him a sharp, genuine smile—the one that meant she was ready for a fight. "You got it, Commander."
As everyone went off to the main house, Rowan took the horses back to their stables. Rowan stayed behind with the horses, enjoying the honest labor of tending to them. He unhooked Shiori and Capper from the carriage, giving them each a long, appreciative stroke on their necks.
"Good work, you two. You handled that forest trip like veterans," he praised.
He led them into their stalls, grabbing a bucket containing a special farm-mix feed he made from dried carrots, ground-up sweet potatoes, apples, and a pinch of his enchanted wheat grain. He poured a generous amount into their feed troughs.
Capper immediately plunged his nose in with a happy snort, crunching the sweet mix contentedly.
Rowan pulled a small bag of the farm's massive, bright orange carrots from his pocket. He fed them to Shiori by hand, letting her gently lick the carrot from his palm.
"That's for being the best horses we could ask for," Rowan said, leaning his head against her velvety nose for a moment.
He finished his chores and checked the carriage once more, ensuring no stray forest herbs or potentially dangerous forest debris remained. Satisfied, he headed to the main house, washing his hands thoroughly before entering the kitchen.
As Rowan started prepping for lunch, he glanced out the kitchen window toward the expansive front lawn.
Selene was already out there with Lilly. Selene had changed into a fresh, navy-blue practice tunic, and her silver rapier gleamed in the late morning sun.
Lilly, looking tiny but determined, stood opposite her, holding her wooden sword.
"First lesson, Lilly," Selene's voice carried clearly, sharp and precise. "You are small. I am fast. You cannot win on power alone. Show me your lunge."
Lilly dropped into the stance Rowan had taught her, a wide-legged forward posture.
Selene immediately clucked her tongue. "Too wide. It takes you an extra half-second to pull back. A half-second is a lifetime. Narrow your stance. Your body should be like a coiled spring. Now, thrust."
Lilly thrust forward. Whoosh.
Selene didn't even move her feet. She simply shifted her weight, and her silver rapier flashed, tapping Lilly's wooden blade lightly near the hilt. "Disarmed. Again."
They fell into a rhythm of correction and repetition. Selene's movements were of pure grace and efficiency, Lilly's movements becoming slowly tighter and more focused.
Meanwhile, a few yards away, a much louder form of interaction was taking place.
Dante was grumpily sitting cross-legged on the porch steps, a cluster of the younger children around him.
"Next challenge!" Darius declared, his eyes bright with competitive glee. He placed his wooden ball on the ground right in front of Dante's knees. "Teleport it ten feet up and drop it back into my hand."
Dante grumbled, but the lure of showing off was stronger than his feigned exhaustion. He pointed a gloved finger at the sphere. A small, black ripple, like heat haze, appeared a foot over the ball. A moment later, a second ripple appeared ten feet above his head.
Pop!
The sphere vanished from the ground and reappeared in the upper portal. It dropped, and Darius, with a surprised but quick clap, caught it perfectly.
"Flawless!" Alex recorded in his ledger. "10/10 execution."
"Easy," Dante scoffed, taking a bite of a leftover shortbread cookie from Alexia's pouch. "I do this a hundred times a day with trade agreements. Next."
Alexia held up an empty, uncorked glass vial. "Uncle Dante, can you teleport only the air inside this vial, to be replaced by the air from the forest?"
Dante actually paused, intrigued. "A spatial-volume exchange? That's… surprisingly complex, Alexia. You're testing my precision at range, aren't you?"
"Precisely," Alexia nodded, her eyes shining.
Dante focused, and for a long moment, nothing happened. Then, a barely perceptible shimmer hit the vial, and the glass grew instantly cool to the touch, carrying the faint, sweet scent of the woods and pure, rich mana.
"A success," Dante conceded, rubbing his nose. "And don't you dare tell your father I just wasted mana on air."
Lucia, sitting close to Dante, pointed a tiny finger at his breadcrumb dusted mask. Her purple tiny bat was still perched on her shoulder.
"The bat says you can't teleport the cookie crumbs off your mask," Lucia said with a giggle.
Dante shot a frustrated look at the bat, then quickly wiped the crumbs off himself. "I choose not to. I save them for later."
Inside the kitchen, Rowan smiled at the chaotic energy outside. It was a good, healthy chaos. He turned his full attention to preparing the grilled chicken caesar salad. Lunch had to be quick, nutritious, and satisfying for three hungry and active adults and five incredibly energetic children.
Rowan moved with the usual pace of a master chef. First was the salad dressing.
He minced six cloves of the farm's garlic to a fine paste. He didn't mash them, a clean cut releases the flavor better. He dropped the paste into a wooden bowl.
He pulled out his jar of salted, preserved anchovies. This was something he rarely used as the only place he could get it from was seaside towns.
He took six pieces, rinsed them quickly, and finely minced them with the side of his knife until they dissolved into an oily paste, adding a deep umami to the garlic.
He then cracked two orange egg yolks into the bowl, followed by a spoonful of mustard and a generous squeeze of fresh lemon juice from freshly picked lemons. Using a fork, he whisked the mixture until it was light yellow and frothy.
Slowly and steadily, he began to drizzle in olive oil, whisking vigorously. The oil emulsified perfectly, turning the dressing into a thick, pale, creamy base.
He stirred in a large amount of finely grated, aged cheese, a heavy grind of black pepper, and a dash of his pre-made Worcestershire sauce. He tasted it and it was perfect; a sharp, salty, umami kick. He put the finished bowl of sauce aside and moved on to the main part of the meal.
The main part is always the protein. Rowan took three large, skinless, boneless chicken breasts from the fridge.
He sliced the breasts in half horizontally to create thinner cutlets, which would cook faster and more evenly. For seasoning, he simply rubbed them with a salt blend and a mix of dried rosemary and thyme.
Next, he heated his largest pan until it was screaming hot. He added a thin coat of olive oil and laid the chicken cutlets down. The meat hissed and crackled.
Rowan let the cutlets sear for three minutes without moving them, creating a perfect crust, before flipping them. The aroma of garlic and herbs mixed with the searing chicken was intoxicating, drifting out the window and causing Dante to inhale deeply.
Rowan continued to cook them until they were perfectly done, moist on the inside and charred on the outside. He pulled them off to rest on a wooden cutting board.
Now for the final component, as the salad was nothing without crunch.
Rowan pulled out a loaf of his sourdough bread Dante loved. He cut the crusts off and diced the inside into perfect, one inch cubes. He tossed them in a skillet with melted butter, olive oil, and a final sprinkle of garlic powder, toasting them until they were golden brown and incredibly crisp.
He grabbed three large heads of the farm's crunchiest and greenest lettuce, their leaves crisp from the morning's chilly water. He tore them by hand into bite-sized pieces and shook them dry.
Rowan then tossed the dry lettuce in a massive steel bowl with about half of the Caesar dressing, ensuring every leaf was lightly coated but not drowned. Too much sauce wasn't good for them.
Finally, the resting chicken was thinly sliced against the grain. Rowan moved everything to the dining table just as the children and Selene were finishing their practice, their faces flushed and hungry.
"Lunch is served," Rowan announced.
The children rushed in, the smell of the grilled chicken overriding their tired limbs. Rowan quickly plated the salads, topping the sauce-dressed greens with the sliced chicken, a generous handful of crunchy croutons, and a final, heavy snowstorm of grated cheese.