Caution first.

It was the thought that made him pause before walking directly to the other side of the hill. It could have been anything - the voice sounded human - but this was a world where things didn’t always appear as they seemed.

He knelt on the ground.

He lay flat against the grass and began crawling to the peak of the hill, his movements deliberate.

There was no telling what waited for him beyond the crest - he might be looking down on friends, or he might be looking down on enemies who would do the same thing the Horned Rabbit tried to do to him, only better.

His head peeked over the top of the hill.

He looked.

There was a dirt road that sliced through the field below, wide and weathered, beaten down enough to retain its shape after years of passing traffic.

Atop it was a carriage, constructed from wood that had seen better days, pulled by a horse whose ears were flattened against its skull and whose eyes were white-rimmed.

The old man driving it held onto the reins, both hands tight, as though he understood that he was dealing with more than mere ropes now.

And circling around them -

Wolves.

Not the ones he knew from his world. These wolves were bigger, broader, stronger. They had heavy bodies, thick muscles, and teeth that jutted past their closed mouths.

Twelve of them in total, by Ash’s estimation, arranged loosely in a semi-circle, close enough that the old man couldn’t maneuver the carriage past them.

Two young women stood between the wolves and the carriage.

Ash’s eyes rested on them, unable to move.

The first was dressed in a teal jacket that opened to reveal a pristine undershirt, cinched tightly at the waist by a crisp, white belt. Beneath it was a pleated dress that ended just above her knees, the bottom of which was met by black boots.

Every part of her uniform seemed to be put together by a master designer, which was less fascinating to Ash than the katana she carried at her side, resting easily there with the casual grace of something that had been wielded enough times to become an extension of her body.

Her dark hair reached past her shoulders, her light blue eyes catching the sun’s double reflection.

The second girl was petite, but no less striking. She wore a corset bodice with a golden, button-lined texture, expanding out into several layers of flouncy skirts lined with white lace at the edges.

There was a single pauldron covering her right shoulder, the only piece of armor she wore; her thigh-high boots were lined in gold, forming a geometric network all the way up their sides. In her right hand, she held a wand. Short white hair. Crimson eyes.

They were both about his age - fifteen, maybe. Sixteen at the most.

’Will they be okay?’ Ash thought, watching the wolves shift uneasily in their semi-circle.

He began lifting himself up.

Then, the black-haired girl moved.

The katana left its scabbard in a single motion - a flash of drawn steel cutting through the air - and before he knew it, the sword was already in her hand and she was turning to face the closest wolf, her eyes void of fear.

Ash sank back down again, not fully understanding why.

A wolf leapt forward.

She answered with her sword.

The katana went straight through its head, slicing cleanly through the wolf like it was made of nothing but heat and water. Without stopping, she turned to the next one.

’She’s strong,’ Ash thought, and the words landed with simple weight, no qualifier attached.

He watched her dispatch them, one by one, each kill methodical and surgical. With each wolf, the katana followed its intended path without hesitation.

Ash redirected his gaze towards the white-haired girl.

She had lifted her wand. Her lips were moving as she muttered a chant, words too distant to hear over the wind.

She stopped suddenly, and the air around her wand wavered, then condensed into several swords made of water. With a single swing, the weapons sliced cleanly through the wolves standing to either side of her.

Ash gaped.

He had conjured a small fireball at the beginning of his journey. These two girls were taking out twelve wolves between them, and making it seem effortless.

He hadn’t finished processing this when it happened.

The white-haired girl’s crimson eyes moved across the treeline, scanning - a reflexive action for any fighter. Her gaze moved up the hill, settling on Ash.

Their eyes met.