Vroma sighed, the ice essence of her demonic-tainted chi causing her breath to fog as she exhaled. She had been tasked with conceiving a plan that would provoke mass panic and disorder, or was it fear and chaos? She confused the two sometimes. She found herself confused often lately, ever since her wicked and terrifying master had bestowed upon her a mere morsel of his vast power. “Misstressss…. How goesss the plotting?” Her serpentine servant spoke surreptitiously.

  “It goes well. I have planted several of the divine beasts and magically imbued creatures with our detestable master’s chi. They will no doubt run wild in the surrounding lands causing much panic and disorder!” She replied, excitement creeping into her voice as visions of pandemonium formed in her mind.

  “I’m afraid it’sss actually fear and chaossss, Misstressss…” the reptilian retainer revised.

  Vroma’s jaw clenched as she realised her mistake. Icy anger surged through her veins as she lunged at her subordinate, grabbing the humanoid snake-kin by the scruff of its robes, causing it to recoil as the cloth began to freeze on contact. “Do not forget your place, DuanShe. An insult to me is an insult to the great master.” She hissed, releasing her loyal attendant. Where did that come from? She was not normally this violent. Ever since receiving her new powers she found herself overcome by bursts of violent hate for anything and everything in her vicinity. There had to be a cause, but no matter how hard she mused on it, she just could not come to any real conclusion. “I apologise, DuanShe,” she admonished. “I do not know what overcame me. I appreciate your advice. You have served me well these last few months. Why don’t you join me as I examine the gathered specimen?”

  “Misstresssss! This impuissssant DuanSshe is unworthy of your kindnesss! Allow me to kowtow before you in recompenssse…”

  Dean woke, blinking his eyes several times before the screen was dismissed, not truly seeing the words. “Pa! Pa! He’s awake!” a voice shouted, childlike and full of awe. Dean tried to sit up, but pain racked his body, causing a gasp to escape his lips. Peering down, he saw his upper body was bare except for a swathe of bandages covering almost every inch of bare skin. His right arm, which had been dislocated, was wrapped tight in a sling. “Yer best stayin’ laid down, mister…,” another childish voice advised, this one less flowery than the last.

  Blinking several more times to focus his vision, Dean rolled his head in the direction of the speaker. It was a young boy of ten or eleven years of age. He wore brown corduroy trousers and a tightly buttoned homespun shirt with rolled sleeves. His skin was pale and marginally tan from time spent under an open sky. His hair was dusty brown, sun-bleached, and wavy but cut reasonably short. His face had a light dusting of freckles and was just a bit gaunt. His amber eyes were caught in the sun.

  “Here, drink this. Pa says it’s important that I help you take water once you wake,” the boy explained, tilting down with a wooden bowl half-filled with sloshing water. Dean looked around the best he could as he leaned over from his cot. He realized he was in a moving wagon.

  The owner of the other voice hopped down from behind the boy. A girl, a few years younger but closely resembling the boy. Her face was rounder, and her hair was longer than the lad’s. It was also tied up in two neat pink bows. Unlike her brother, her eyes were an earthy green. She wore a pale yellow blouse, a matching skirt, and a white pinafore over the top. She looked at Dean with wide eyes and a wider smile. She was missing a tooth. Comprehension hit Dean like a truck aspiring to create the next hit isekai novel. These were the kids from the wagon at the campsite. He had fought a giant sentient bush monster called a “Thistle-Sage” to protect them. He just barely managed to strike the creature a killing blow, destroying its Monster Core before losing consciousness. He was certain he would die then, bleeding out from the numerous wounds he sustained during the confrontation. “Wha… Wha’s happened….? Yaknow, after I…” Dean led, trying to remember the events after he was pulled into the beasts bristling maw. The young girl’s eyes widened with glee as she began to relate the story “Me and Bobby saw you gets eated! And then we heard you scream like a gi–“

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  “Don’t say that, Mary! That’s rude!” the boy cut in.

  Mary, the young girl, stared pointedly at her brother for interrupting her before continuing. “It was real scary cuz we thought you was dead. But that’s when the monster ‘sploded and you were right there with yer magic glowin’ sword! Then we saw Pa running down the hill real fast like. Y’know he was gunna shoot you before we told him you killed the monster. Ain’t that right, Bobby!?”

  “Um… yeah…. Sorry., bout that, mister” The boy said sheepishly. The wagon jolted to a stop before they could continue. Dean made another attempt to sit up to see what was going on when a shock jolted through his shoulder. He managed to stay upright, leaning his left side against the wall of the wagon with a wince. The silhouette of a man came into view from the rear of the vehicle. He was of an average height but stocky with muscle. “Bobby, Mary, come here, now,” the man spoke, with a “please” that he added in an afterthought. Dean caught sight of the man’s hand resting on his waistband adjacent to his pistol-laden holster. He could feel the other man’s stare bearing down on him, just daring him to try anything. The two children, shied by their father’s words, made their way over with a mutual, “Yes, Pa…”.

  Still keeping his eyes on Dean, the man spoke to his children. “We’re gonna set up camp for the night. I know it’s a little earlier than we planned, but there’s a creek down by the treeline that looks right for fishin’. Bobby, why don’t you grab the rods from my things under the driver’s box and take yer sister down so you can catch us all some dinner.”

  With an opportunity to help, the children happily clambered from the wagon and out of sight. Dean could hear them squabble over who would catch the biggest fish as they walked away toward the front of the coach and then off toward the stream. After a short while, the man clambered into the carriage; the whole thing creaked and leaned under the man’s lean mass. He sat opposite Dean with a large, callused hand resting atop his still-holstered weapon. Dean could now see the man clearly. Like his children, he had pale skin that was sun-kissed, but where his children had light brown hair, his was a much darker shade and sparsely flecked with grey. His deep green eyes judged Dean while they sat. He, too, wore a shirt and trousers that were disheveled from use. Dean noted a small scar that cut across the man’s stubbled jaw. There was a pregnant pause as the man contemplated his words. “I appreciate what you did for my young’ns,” the man began. “You coulda just ran off and left ‘em to that thing. But you didn’t. For that you have my undy’n respect,” his hands clenching and unclenching as he spoke. “But I need you to be honest wi’ me.”

  The intimidating man’s presence seemed to loom over Dean as he let the weight of the request grow, “yous a Cultivator?”

  “Ah, a wot now?” Dean asked confusion on his face.

  “A Cultivator,” the man repeated.

  “Like a farmer?” Dean asked again. “Am not really from arounds hear, but I wouldnaw mind if I could work the lan-“

  “No. No. A Cultivator!” the man says exasperated, “like one a’ them ascend’nts from the Storm shrouded mount’n that been runnin’ round these parts. Are you with them people…?”

  “Am rite sorry pal, but I have naw a fuckin’ clue what you’re on about,” Dean replied, frustration rising in his voice. “I have naw a clue where I am, I have naw a clue what t’fuck is goin’ on and I really don’t have time t’ be peltered by some bloke I dunny know. No offense.”

  “My apologies,” the man began again, taking a big sigh. “Think we started on the wrong foot. I’m Jeb. The boy’s Bobby and my little girl’s Mary. I’m a hunter by trade – that’s why we was all the ways out here. Normally, I can make do in the woods near town, but somethin’ has been driving the game away, see? Meaning I gots to go farther out. And after my sweet Beth passed, it’s just me and the kids, so I just take em with me if I leave town. Ain’t no one wantin’ to take someone else’s sprats in when they can hardly afford to feed em selves, even if only fer a few days. ‘n I love ‘em madly, even if they do drive me mad half the time,” the man opened to Dean, overwhelming him with the complete change in character.

  “Steady on, pal. That’s a lot to take in at once,” Dean spoke as the man seemed to finish. “Yous can call me Dean, and I… woke up a few days ago in the middle of bloody nowhere, and like I said, I have naw a clue about where I am or what’s goin’ on. I appreciate yer help keepin’ me alive. So, I say we’re even. He finished, sticking out his good arm, hand extended. Jeb shook it with a smile.

  “Nice t’ meechya Dean. I really am sorry for earlier, and about the cultivator thang,” Jeb said, scratching the back of his head in an awkward plea. “It’s best for us regular folks to not get involved with them of we can help it. It can get awful dangerous if you do. It’s like a whole other world.”