"Maybe I am overthinking this?" Ethan thought about it for a moment and shook his head. Nope. he was definitely not overthinking this. His gaze fell on the other four who were sticking to Lyra like flies on shit. This was all related to her. He had no doubt about it.

But in a way, it was good news. This means all he needed to do was stay away from that woman and he was golden. There was no longer any need to worry about the bounty on his head.

Also, he moved closer to Lia. "Lia, I need your help." He whispered to her the plan, making the young woman blush but she did not say anything opposed to it.

So for all the onlooker's eyes, Ethan seemed to be enjoying the meal with his maid, a little too intimate, talking and laughing with her openly. Something that was frowned upon.

One might even think that he had moved on from Lady Lyra.

Soon the journey continued and everything progressed peacefully. Ethan leaned back on the wagon, his eyes scanning the horizon as the caravan rolled on.

The road ahead was straight and uneventful, bordered by thick forests on either side. The soft murmur of conversation, the creak of wagon wheels, and the rhythmic clopping of hooves created an almost lulling atmosphere.

Too peaceful, Ethan thought, his instincts prickling. If things continued in this manner then he would really end up going to the academy. The academy represented everything he didn't want—ties, exposure, entanglement in politics, and a constant spotlight. He needed to find an out.

But it also represented knowledge. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst decision?

The caravan began to slow as the road sloped upward, the forest thinning to reveal a distant mountain pass. Ethan's gaze sharpened. A pass. Narrow, exposed. If someone were planning an ambush, this would be the perfect spot.

Ethan sighed inwardly. If only that was true.

The very next second…

The caravan jolted to a sudden halt, the harsh screech of wooden wheels grinding against dirt and stone filling the air.

Before anyone could react, a sharp whistle sliced through the air, followed by a sickening thud. The driver of the first carriage slumped forward, an arrow lodged deep in his chest, blood trickling down his tunic.

For a moment, there was stunned silence, the kind that comes before chaos. Then the cry went up: "Demons! We're under attack!"

Panic rippled through the caravan as a group of fifty demons emerged from the forest, their grotesque forms illuminated by the harsh sunlight filtering through the thinning trees.

They were a motley assortment of twisted creatures—hulking brutes with jagged weapons, lithe figures cloaked in shadows, and snarling beasts that looked half-animal, half-monstrosity. Their red eyes gleamed with bloodlust as they advanced on the caravan.

"Where did these demons come from?"

"Why are there demons in the kingdom?"

"Damn it, where is that kingdom mage? I did not get paid enough for this!"

"Defensive positions!" shouted one of the guards, his voice cutting through the growing chaos. The guards rushed to form a defensive line, their swords and spears glinting as they braced for the onslaught.

Ethan's instincts kicked in as the first demon charged, a hulking brute wielding a massive club that smashed into the nearest guard's shield, sending the man sprawling. This isn't some random skirmish. This is a full-scale assault.

Ethan gulped. Did he jinx the peace and quiet? Either way, this was his chance.

"Lia!" Ethan barked, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the wagon. "Stay low and stay behind me. Don't run off, no matter what."

Lia nodded, her face pale but resolute. "Yes, Master."

Up ahead, Lyra had dismounted and drawn her sword, her green eyes blazing with determination. She moved with precision, cutting down a demon that had broken through the line with a single, fluid strike.

Her entourage of nobles had scattered, some drawing weapons but most scrambling for safety. Lucien, to his credit, was holding his ground, though his strikes seemed more about looking impressive than landing decisive blows.

Ethan drew his dagger, his mind racing. He wasn't about to sit back and wait for the demons to come to him. His gaze swept over the battlefield, calculating. The guards can't hold the line forever. If these demons overwhelm them, the caravan is finished. He needed to run before that.

In fact, he needed to run before everything became organized. Right now there was chaos everywhere with the servants scattering into the forests. Many were fleeing in whatever direction they could to escape the attack. The number of demons was truly terrifying.

Ethan did not wait around. He too chose a path randomly and started running. He bolted, his dagger sheathed as his legs carried him away from the chaos of the caravan.

The cacophony of clashing steel, demon snarls, and terrified screams faded slightly with each step, replaced by the sound of his own ragged breathing and the crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot. He didn't look back. He couldn't afford to.

Stay alive. That's the priority.