You're no ordinary traveler

As the carriage rolled along the bumpy road, the group inside continued their quiet chatter. Some gazed out the windows, taking in the scenery, while others rested their heads against the walls or in their laps. The rhythmic rumble of the wheels mixed with the sound of the occasional bird call or the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Ethan, however, remained mostly silent. His eyes, sharp and observant, scanned the surroundings, constantly aware of any potential threats or surprises.

Beside him, Jensi seemed restless. He fidgeted in his seat, occasionally glancing at Ethan. Finally, unable to contain his curiosity, he nudged Ethan's shoulder.

"Hey, Ethan, you seem calm. Aren't you nervous about the exam? I've heard it's one of the hardest to pass," Jensi said, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

Ethan smirked slightly but didn't meet his gaze. He kept his eyes forward, his posture relaxed. "If I were scared of a little challenge, I wouldn't be here," he replied with quiet confidence.

Jensi chuckled at the response, impressed by Ethan's composure. "Confident, huh? Well, I hope you're as good as you look serious. My friends and I have been training for months, and we're still unsure if we'll pass."

Before Ethan could respond, the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

Jensi looked out the window, brow furrowing. "What's going on?" he asked, a hint of unease creeping into his voice.

From the front of the caravan, Zepta's deep voice rang out. "Everyone, stay alert! There's something ahead!"

Ethan's instincts kicked in immediately. He didn't hesitate. The moment the carriage stopped, he jumped to his feet, his senses heightened. He moved to the door and stepped outside, eyes scanning the road ahead.

Zepta and his team were already out of the carriage, their sharp eyes trained on something in the distance. About a hundred meters ahead, a group of masked figures blocked the road. They were armed, their weapons glinting menacingly in the sunlight.

"Bandits," Zepta muttered under his breath, his hand already gripping the hilt of his sword. The rest of the A-Rank adventurers unsheathed their weapons, preparing for the inevitable confrontation.

The black-cloaked figure from the carriage stepped out next. His presence was commanding, as though the atmosphere around him shifted. Without a word, he drew a long, gleaming blade, the weapon reflecting the light in sharp, silvery streaks.

"Stay back," Zepta ordered the passengers, his voice firm and steady. "We'll handle this."

But Ethan's gaze was locked on the bandits. He didn't move back; instead, he stepped forward, his hand subtly resting on the hilt of a sword he had hanging from his waist.

"You're just a kid," one of the adventurers barked at him. "Let the professionals deal with this."

Ethan's gaze never wavered, and his voice was calm but firm. "These aren't just any bandits. Look at their formation. They're trained."

Zepta turned to glance at him, eyes narrowing with a sudden awareness. "You noticed that too? Who are you, really?"

Before Ethan could answer, the bandits charged. Their weapons were raised, and their movements were swift and calculated, a stark contrast to typical banditry.

"Defend the carriage!" Zepta shouted to his team.

The A-Rank adventurers leapt into action. Their blades clashed with the bandits' weapons in a flurry of steel and sparks. Ethan stepped forward, his movements precise and controlled as he drew his own sword. His first strike sent a bandit tumbling backward, while the second cleaved through the defenses of another with surprising ease.

"Not bad for a kid," one of the adventurers muttered as he watched Ethan take down two bandits in quick succession.

The black-cloaked figure also moved with deadly grace, his sword cutting through the air like a shadow, too fast for the human eye to follow. His presence was chilling, his blade dancing through the chaos without a sound. He didn't speak a word, but his skill was undeniable.

As the battle continued, Ethan's attention wavered for just a moment. Something in the edge of the forest caught his eye—another figure, watching the conflict from the shadows. The figure was far off, but their gaze felt heavy, intense. A shiver ran down Ethan's spine as his instincts screamed at him that this was no ordinary observer.

'Who is that? And why does it feel like they're waiting for something—or someone?' Ethan thought, his mind racing even as the fight raged on around him.

Despite the fierce fighting, the bandits were quickly overwhelmed. Zepta's team and the cloaked figure made short work of them, cutting down the remaining threats with terrifying efficiency. Within moments, the road was cleared, and the sounds of battle faded into the distance.

Zepta wiped sweat from his brow and sheathed his sword, his eyes now trained on Ethan. "You're no ordinary traveler," Zepta said, his voice cautious, yet tinged with respect. "Care to explain?"

Ethan sheathed his own sword, though his gaze was still fixed on the edge of the forest, where the mysterious figure had been. "Not now," he said, his voice low and steady. "We should keep moving. This may have just been a distraction."

Zepta frowned, sensing there was more to the story than Ethan was letting on. But he nodded, understanding the urgency in Ethan's tone. "Alright, everyone, back into the carriage. We leave immediately."

As the group resumed their journey, Ethan took his seat once more. His thoughts were far from the road ahead. The figure in the forest lingered in his mind, the chill of their gaze still haunting him. Whoever they were, they were connected to something much larger—and possibly much darker—than anything he had yet encountered.

'The capital will have answers,' Ethan thought, the words like a mantra in his mind. 'I just need to make it there in one piece.'