Three weeks had passed since the day the forest had brought new bonds into their lives.
From the outside, the house no longer felt like a refuge for survivors. It felt like a home.
Cale trained every day.
From dawn until the forest shadows grew long, he moved—sometimes with a sword, sometimes barehanded, sometimes simply running beside Fang through paths only beasts would normally dare to tread. Fang was never far from him. He corrected without words, guided without force, and watched without blinking.
Andre saw it all.
His son was strong—too strong for his age. Not just physically, but in ways Andre could not fully explain. His reactions were sharper. His instincts faster. His calm, in moments where fear should have lived, unsettled him more than any monster ever had.
Anne noticed it too.
She often stood at the edge of their training, arms crossed, pretending to observe casually. But inside, her thoughts were never still.
He shouldn't be this capable… not yet.
And yet… this world won't wait for him to grow slowly.
She had grown attached to the boy. More than she had expected. More than she allowed herself to admit.
Fang was the first to speak of it.
The idea did not come as words—not at first.
Cale felt it while sitting beside the fire one evening, Fang's massive form resting calmly behind him. It was not a command. Not an urge. It was a direction. A shared understanding that surfaced gently, like a thought that did not entirely belong to him.
You are ready to learn what training alone cannot give, Fang's presence conveyed.
Cale tilted his head slightly. "You mean… the other side of the forest?"
Fang's tail stirred slowly.
Your body is strong. Your discipline is growing. But instincts are born in motion, not repetition. Real danger teaches faster than drills.
The next morning, Cale spoke.
"I want to go with Fang," he said simply.
Andre froze.
Anne's breath caught before she could stop it.
"With Fang?" Andre repeated, slowly.
Cale nodded. "Just for a few days. Fang knows the forest. He says there are weaker monsters beyond the eastern paths. And… a place underground. A dungeon."
Silence fell.
Andre looked at Fang.
The Inferno Wolf met his gaze without flinching.
Andre's thoughts churned.
This is it, isn't it?
The moment every parent fears.
The moment when protecting becomes limiting.
He had brought his son to this world to give him peace. To give him safety. And yet… Atlas was not a world that allowed stillness.
The Creator had not sent them here without reason.
Andre remembered her words.
You and your son are my final hope.
Anne stepped closer, her voice quiet but firm.
"I don't like it," she admitted honestly. "Not because I doubt Fang. But because I know what this world takes from those who hesitate."
She looked at Cale, then away.
"But he's right," she continued. "Dry training will not shape his instincts. And Fang… Fang will not let harm come to him."
Andre exhaled slowly.
Then, to everyone's shock, he stepped forward.
And bowed.
Deeply.
"Fang," Andre said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "I entrust my son to you. Please… protect him and teach him as if he were your own."
The air shifted.
Fang felt it immediately—an unfamiliar weight in his chest.
Andre…
You and your son gave me a home. A family.
For the first time in over a century, pride stirred not from strength—but from trust.
I will protect him with my life. That is my oath, by the honor of the Inferno Wolves.
Andre stiffened.
He heard it.
Not as sound—but as meaning.
His eyes widened slightly as mana surged above them, intertwining—human and beast, no longer separate.
"So that's how you speak to him…" Andre murmured in awe.
Fang's eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
Andre lifted his head and met Fang's gaze.
Thank you, he replied—uncertain, but sincere.
Fang inclined his head firmly in response.
Anne watched the scene in silence, her heart heavy and full all at once.
This wasn't recklessness.
This was trust forged in something deeper than blood.
Cale stood between them, eyes shining—not with excitement, but understanding.
"I won't be careless," he said quietly.
Andre placed a hand on his son's head.
"I know," he replied. "That's why I'm letting you go."
The forest listened.
And somewhere within Atlas, a path was set into motion.