Ronan took a small, crystal object from his cloak. His face was hard to read, which made Elion and Jordan curious. Before they could process or ask him anything, he squeezed the crystal hard.

  Then, he smashed the crystal to the ground.

  "What are you doing?!" Both Elion and Jordan were shocked.

  That was when something extraordinary happened.

  Just when the crystal hit the pavement, a bright light burst out. The light filled the alley with a mysterious purple glow. It was amazing to see energy swirled and twisted from the broken pieces.

  The real magic then happened—a round portal appeared.

  Elion barely had time to process it. His heart pounded. “What is—?”

  “Move.” Ronan’s voice cut through the shock, firm and urgent. “Unless you wanna be ripped apart in the next thirty seconds, step through.”

  Jordan’s eyes practically lit up. “No. Freaking. Way.” He turned to Elion, grinning like a kid who had just been given a golden ticket. “Dude, this is teleportation!”

  Ronan was amazed to learn that. For him, it was remarkable for a human from this world to understand such concepts.

  Only if he knew how much humans in this world had developed the theory and illustrations of teleportation.

  Elion, however, wasn’t quite on the same wavelength. His brain was still trying to wrap around the fact that portals actually existed. “Wait. Hold on. Where does it go? Is it safe? What—”

  Jordan, being Jordan, didn’t wait for an answer.

  Without hesitation, he jumped straight into the portal.

  “JORDAN—” Elion shouted, reaching out instinctively, but it was too late. His best friend had already vanished into the swirling abyss.

  Ronan cursed. “Dumbass.”

  Elion whipped around, panicked. “Where did he go? Is he—”

  “He’s fine,” Ronan snapped. “For now. You, on the other hand, won’t be if you don’t get moving.”

  As if to drive the point home, the ground suddenly rumbled beneath them.

  Elion’s breath hitched. The vibrations traveled up his legs, a deep, unnatural tremor that wasn’t just some random aftershock. Something was coming.

  Then, the noises came.

  Three distinct, guttural noises echoed through the alley—deep, primal, and hungry.

  Elion stiffened, his instincts screaming at him. If the last two beast-men had been a nightmare, what were the odds of him surviving three?

  He really didn’t want to find out.

  Ronan turned, eyes narrowing into the darkness beyond the alley’s edge. “Kid, hurry up. You will not survive staying here.”

  Elion hesitated for exactly one more second. Then—he bolted.

  He didn’t need to be told again. With his heart racing, he jumped forward and dove into the swirling portal.

  The last thing he heard before the portal disappeared was the sound of heavy footsteps followed by sniffing.

  Three massive figures stalked into the now-empty alley.

  Their forms were humanoid, towering and muscular, but covered in thick fur. Their faces, however, were disturbingly human—twisted in expressions of irritation as they sniffed the air like hunting hounds.

  "They are gone," one of them said in a rough voice.

  The largest of the three was strong and built wide, with fur as dark as ink. He tilted his head and took a deep breath. “The scent disappears here.”

  "Three of them?" Another, lankier but just as imposing, let out a low growl. “Magic? Teleportation?”

  The third, the shortest but with sharp, intelligent eyes, scanned the ground where the portal had been. His lips curled in annoyance.

  “Keep searching.” His tone was firm, unwavering. “They won’t get far.”

  ***

  Elion barely had time to process the sensation of being weightless before…

  WHAM

  He was unceremoniously kicked from the portal, landing face-first into the dirt with all the grace of a dropped sack of potatoes.

  "Ugh—" He groaned as he felt pain in his jaw. "Ow. Ow. Ow." Now, he was lying on the ground.

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  His expression? Confused.

  His voice? Muffled as his mouth was full of dirt and leaves.

  "This must be a joke..."

  Elion heard someone mumbling just next to him after a loud thud. Of course, it was Jordan.

  Jordan most likely faced the same fate as him.

  Face-first.

  Elion forced himself to look up, spitting out dirt and leaves.

  Jordan was sprawled out beside him, groaning in pain, his face also thoroughly planted into the earth.

  And Ronan?

  The cowboy was standing—or at least, trying to. His usual lazy posture was even sloppier than before, his cloak slightly torn, his hat tilted at an odd angle. He wasn’t face-first in the dirt like them, but judging by how he was gripping his side, he wasn’t exactly in top condition either.

  Elion blinked up at him. "You... landed on your feet?"

  Ronan exhaled through his nose. "Obviously."

  Jordan pushed himself up slightly, wincing. "Good for you, cowboy. We got drop-kicked by the universe."

  Elion groaned, rolling onto his back. His whole body hurt from the hard landing, but that wasn’t the worst part.

  The worst part?

  When he finally looked around, he saw tall, thick trees above him. Their dense branches blocked most of the sky.

  The air felt different—thicker and heavier, with an unsettling quiet. The only sounds were leaves rustling and, occasionally, a branch breaking in the distance.

  Elion felt a twist in his stomach.

  They were in a forest.

  A real, deep, wild forest.

  His brain immediately went into damage-control mode. What’s the closest forest to New Orleans?

  The answer came quickly—about thirty kilometers west, there was a fairly large woodland area. It wasn’t too far from civilization.

  That was the most reassuring possibility.

  Because if this wasn’t that forest—if they had ended up somewhere further, somewhere unknown—then they were screwed.

  Elion swallowed hard, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Where... are we?”

  Jordan, still half-sprawled on the ground, let out a breathless chuckle. “I have no idea. But if this is how teleportation works, I’m not a fan.”

  Elion didn’t laugh. His hands clenched into the dirt beneath him. He had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.

  Ronan exhaled sharply, adjusting his hat before rolling his shoulders. “Don't worry. We’re in the forest near New Orleans,” he said, his voice carrying that same lazy drawl. “I can’t use longer-distance teleportation. Not in my condition.”

  After Ronan finished speaking, he took off his cloak and let it fall to the ground.

  Elion was surprised to see that Ronan was not as muscular as he had expected.

  Ronan wasn’t bulky, but he was fit—lean muscle, the kind that came from constant movement rather than strict training.

  But what really caught their attention was the dark stain seeping through the fabric on his left abdomen.

  Blood.

  Elion’s concern kicked in instantly. “You were attacked there just now?”

  Ronan did not respond immediately. He looked at the wound as if he were seeing it for the first time. Then he gently pressed his fingers against it.

  Jordan, however, narrowed his eyes.

  “I don’t think so,” Jordan muttered. His voice had shifted—analyzing, breaking things down. “You didn’t get hit there during the fight.” He looked up, sharp realization in his gaze. “Old wound?”

  That made Ronan grin. He tilted his head slightly, nodding. “Good assessment,” he said, looking at Jordan with mild approval. Then, he turned to Elion. “Good heart.”

  Before either of them could respond, Ronan let himself drop onto the ground, landing in a way that suggested he really needed to sit down.

  “This is an old wound,” he admitted. “Happened when I was sent here a few weeks ago.”

  Elion frowned. Sent here?

  “Supposedly,” Ronan continued, “I’d have recovered in no time. But the air here isn’t rich in the energy I need,” he said, waving his hand around them.

  Elion wasn’t sure what that meant, but he could already have guessed. Besides, he could tell from the exhaustion in Ronan’s voice that it mattered.

  “Besides,” Ronan went on, exhaling tiredly, “I’ve been after—or being after—those beast-men almost every single day. No time to rest. No time to recover. If I stop, more destruction happens. More people die.”

  That statement sat heavy in the air.

  Elion swallowed. His earlier suspicions had now solidified. “…You’re not from this world, are you?”

  Ronan smirked. It wasn’t a full confirmation, but it wasn’t a denial, either. "That... is something that I can't share too much right now," he said, sounding lighter. "But at this moment, I need your help, so I might share a bit later."

  Jordan smiled, but he still felt pain from his bruises. His eyes practically sparkled. “Wait—you mean, like, help help? As in… you want us to fight beast-men?”

  Ronan laughed lightly but quickly regretted it. He grabbed his side and winced in pain. “Ah—no. No. That would be ridiculous.” He gave Jordan a look like he had just suggested wrestling a lion with bare hands. “The beast-men aren’t something normal humans can take on.”

  Jordan hummed thoughtfully, his eyes flicking toward Ronan’s sack. “Then…” He pointed at it. “I need to use the power from the rings, right?”

  Ronan’s expression changed immediately. His usual lazy smirk was gone, replaced by a sharper look. His posture stayed mostly the same, but Elion felt the air around them grow heavier.

  “That,” Ronan said slowly, “is something that must stay a secret.”

  Elion waited. He wanted an actual explanation, not just vague warnings.

  Ronan sighed and leaned back. “We need to find a place to rest,” he said, changing the subject. “Recover for a while.”

  Elion wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Not at all. Right now, they had no choice as they needed to follow his lead.

  Ronan groaned as he pushed himself up, shaking off his tiredness. He lightly touched his wound but kept his face neutral. After a sharp breath, he turned to Elion and Jordan.

  “We need to move. Fast.” His voice had lost its usual laziness, now edged with something more serious. “I can’t send you guys home yet.”

  Elion’s stomach dropped. “What? Why not?”

  Ronan’s gaze darkened. “Because you’ve already been smelled by them.”

  Jordan straightened at that, his earlier excitement dampening. “You mean the beast-men?”

  Ronan nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. You don’t fight creatures like that and just walk away clean. They’ve got a lock on you now—your scent, your energy, whatever messed-up way they track people.”

  He adjusted his hat, then glanced between Elion and Jordan. “And here’s the real problem—those things? They might think you’re with me.”

  Elion felt his stomach drop. Jordan stiffened.

  “I don’t know how or why, but you two are my problem now. That means they will come after you just like they would come after me.” Ronan exhaled sharply. “And if you’re thinking about going back to your families—don’t. You’d be leading danger straight to their doorstep.”

  Elion exchanged a look with Jordan. So, to recap, they had accidentally ended up on some monster’s hit list, and now they were apparently tied to a guy they had only just met.

  Yeah. Tonight just kept getting better.

  Elion felt something cold settle in his gut.

  His family.

  Jordan was serious this time. His hands were tight, and his jaw was stiff. He took a breath and nodded. “Alright. Then what’s the plan?”

  Elion swallowed hard. He didn’t like this. None of it. But what other choice did they have?

  He nodded, too. “We’ll follow your lead.”

  Ronan smirked just a little. “Smart choice.”

  Then, without another word, he turned and started walking. Elion and Jordan exchanged a glance before quickly falling in step behind him.