The merchant caravan sprawled along the roadside, wagons listing on battered wheels and horses stamping restlessly in their traces. Faded pennants flapped wearily in the breeze, and a cluster of rough-looking bandits formed a tight circle around a burly merchant, their rusted scimitars glinting menacingly. One lunged forward, snarling, "Hand over your coin, or else!" Ana placed a hand on Caden's arm, her voice low and steady. "We shouldn't get involved." But Caden was already moving. He inhaled sharply and stepped forward, drawing his sword in a single fluid motion. The bandit barely had time to react before steel met steel, Caden's strike forcing him back. The others turned, startled, but Caden didn't hesitate. He moved with steady precision, parrying a wild swing before driving his boot into an attacker's chest, sending him sprawling. Ana exhaled sharply, jaw tightening as she watched Caden intercept another strike, his blade flashing in the dim light.

The scene was one of utter chaos. Wagons stood at odd angles, their contents spilling onto the ground as merchants cowered beneath the threatening stares of their assailants. The bandits, clad in mismatched armor and greed, barked demands with cruel confidence, their weapons as worn and desperate as their threats.

Ana's instincts screamed to keep moving, to avoid the confrontation and the trouble it promised. She'd spent enough of her life dealing with bandits and worse, and none of it had ever ended well. Taking a sip from her flask, she muttered, "This isn't our fight," to herself. Suddenly, a voice appeared, his presence as unexpected as it was unwelcome. "Caden's so much like you," he remarked, his tone almost admiring. Ana shot him a sharp look. "Stop talking to me, Ethan," she said curtly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Ethan ignored the warning, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "Remember when you used to be this eager?" he taunted. "Before the world chewed you up and spat you out?"

Ana's fists clenched, the words digging under her skin like barbs. She shot him a look filled with raw disdain. "What do you want, Ethan?"

His eyes gleamed with amusement, but there was an edge to them, sharp and cutting. "Isn't it obvious, Ana? I'm here to pick up the pieces when you run away again."

Her jaw tightened, each of his jabs striking with practiced precision.

Ana felt her stomach twist. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the chaos unfolding in front of her rather than Ethan's taunts. Her gaze settled on Caden, who moved with intense concentration amidst the fray.

The boy was relentless, each swing of his practice sword driven by a fierce will that seemed out of place in his slight form yet impossible to deny. He ducked beneath an incoming strike, popping up to send another bandit reeling with an awkward but effective counterattack.

Cadens earlier exhaustion forgotten in the face of this new challenge. The boy who had stumbled through training now struck with clarity and purpose.

She watched the scene unfolded, a tangled mess of anxiety, pride, and frustration. Caden was good, better than she'd dared to hope, but these were no training dummies.

Caden sidestepped a reckless swing, his small frame slipping easily between the bandits' larger forms. With a quick pivot, he caught another blade and deflected it, the motion smooth and confident. Ana's grip tightened on her own sword, her instincts at war with her need to let him prove himself.

The bandits, momentarily caught off guard, regrouped with angry curses, their numbers a threat that could easily overwhelm.

Ana felt Ethan's presence close beside her, a whisper in her ear. "Why don't you help him?" he goaded, his voice smooth and darkly amused. "Or are you just going to let him suffer?"

Her eyes flared with anger, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, she watched as Caden parried another blow, his breath coming in ragged bursts now. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

"He's only a boy," Ethan pressed, circling around her like a predator toying with its prey. "Do you want him to die?"

Around them, scattered crates and overturned barrels made footing treacherous.

"Just like we practiced," she whispered, the words swallowed by the clash and chaos surrounding them.

The young warrior began to show signs of faltering. His relentless energy waned, his actions slowed as exhaustion took its toll. The bandits' resolve strengthened, sensing his vulnerability and seizing the upper hand.

One of them, eyes gleaming with malice, came up behind Caden and swung hard, the rusted pommel catching him across the back. Caden staggered, his mouth opening in a gasp of surprise and pain.

Before he could react further, the attacker lurched forward, a sharp laugh escaping his lips. His mirth was cut brutally short as a slender hand seized his head and slammed it with terrifying force into the side of a wagon. The wood splintered and broke under the impact, just as easily as bone; the bandit's skull caved sickeningly, his body crumpling to the ground like a doll. Ana stood above him, her yellow eyes smoldering.

A terrible silence fell. The bandits wavered, caught in the shadow of her presence, their faces reflecting a fear that had nothing to do with Caden or his sword.

Caden found himself frozen, his breath catching in his throat. The suddenness of Ana's intervention left him speechless and shaken. He'd seen her fight before, but this was different—feral and unrestrained, something monstrous that sent a shiver through his spine.

"Don't touch the boy," Ana ordered, chin raised defiantly.

A grizzled figure tightened his grip on a rusted sword, sensing victory as he closed in on Caden. Time became a trickle.

The bandit leader didn't even have time to scream before his head was severed from his body. Ana stood behind the falling corpse, her blade an extension of her will, casting a shadow of terror over the remaining band.

The sight was enough. Panic erupted as they turned tail and fled, weapons forgotten in their haste. The merchants huddled together, shock mingling with relief as their attackers vanished down the road.

Ana's aura softened, the hard edges of her presence fading as she turned to Caden. Her eyes met his, momentarily unguarded, and something in her expression shifted—concern and a glimmer of the vulnerability she so rarely showed.

Caden blinked, feeling the knot in his chest loosen. Relief washed over him with an intensity that left him dizzy. He stood straighter, trying to mask the lingering pain from the blow he'd taken. "I had it under control," he insisted, though his voice wavered.

"Right," Ana said, a flicker of amusement touching her lips.

Caden, panting with mixed emotions of fury and disbelief. "I could have fought them off without killing," he snapped, frustration evident in his voice.

Ana returned his intense stare with a firm gaze and said, "This is the real world, not a story. Caden, you need to think!" The atmosphere was heavy with the remnants of their conflict, dust lingering as Caden absorbed the reality of her statement.