The world snapped back into place with a violent lurch.
It was a different location entirely. Faraway from the Forest of Twin Disasters.
Garrick stumbled forward inside a cramped caravan room, his boots scraping against wooden planks as his balance faltered.
For a split second, his mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing—the narrow bed, the hanging lantern swaying gently, the familiar smell of salt, oil, and old fabric.
He froze.
Then he looked down at himself.
Hands. Arms. Chest. Legs.
All intact.
No blood. No missing limbs. No crushing pressure of demonic mana. No suffocating presence of the Forest of Twin Disasters.
A long, shuddering breath tore out of him.
"…I'm back," he whispered hoarsely.
Only then did the reality settle in.
The teleportation scroll had worke and he was home.
