A small cluster of ogres gathered in the forest clearing, tearing at freshly hunted flesh. The sharp crack of fangs gnawing bone echoed harshly through the silent woods. At the center of their circle rose a spire-like stone sculpture, roughly three meters tall and two meters square, its surface thick with moss. One side bore the carved pattern of a doorway, making it resemble a forgotten shrine from distant lands.
As the ogres feasted, the stone sculpture suddenly emitted strange sounds—that carved door actually groaned with the distinctive creak of aged wood, slowly opening inward.
Blinding sunlight flooded in, forcing Glen to raise his arm instinctively as he emerged from darkness. Once his pupils adjusted to the light, he found himself standing in jungle surrounded by over a dozen dull yet ravenous eyes.
"Uh... good afternoon, everyone?" Glen managed a stiff smile.
"Food... food!" one ogre howled with slurred speech.
Stone clubs and axes were instantly seized as the monsters roared forward. Glen flexed his wrists, talons bursting from his fingertips—
The sound of shattering bone and agonized screams soon echoed through the forest. Within moments, any ogres still capable of movement dragged their broken limbs deeper into the jungle. Glen flicked blood droplets from his claws, allowing them to flee. He could have slaughtered them all, but the stench of accumulated corpses would be most unpleasant.
"Where in blazes am I?" he muttered, surveying the primordial jungle. Fortunately, his partial transformation had left his clothing intact.
Turning to examine the strange door, his fingertips traced both the stone surface and the wooden grain within. He noticed a circle of glowing runes materializing on his right wrist, resonating subtly with the doorway. Just as he attempted to understand the connection, the door suddenly slammed shut.
"Damn it!" Glen frantically clawed at the seam, failing to leave even a scratch. Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
After several deep breaths, he forced himself calm. When his fingertip touched a triangular carving on the sculpture, the wrist runes blazed bright and the door opened in response.
"Interesting." Glen wiped sweat from his brow, deciding against immediate return. He selected a distant peak and began trekking, his claws easily scaling the steep rock face.
Standing atop the mountain, he couldn't help but hold his breath—beyond the jungle's end rose a magnificent city. European-style castle spires interwove with black smoke billowing from factory chimneys, creating the familiar skyline typical of the kingdom's major districts.
A black whirlwind suddenly swept through the jungle. Glen, partially transformed, moved through the forest at astounding speed until the hundred-meter-high city walls came into view. Merchant caravans streamed endlessly along the main road, massive lizards and horned beasts slowly hauling cargo while armored guards carrying muskets patrolled the gates.
"Hey friend," Glen approached a young man after resuming human form, "I'm lost—could you tell me where this is?"
"Keladrelia City." The youth gave him a peculiar look. "Unless you're a savage, how could you not recognize the capital's gateway?"
Glen stood frozen. Keladrelia—not only the western kingdom's primary city, but the closest administrative region to the royal capital, separated from his small town of Bayeck by three entire districts.
"May the gods bless you, sir." The youth clearly preferred not to probe this suspicious person's story further, hastily bowing before departing.
Glen retreated thoughtfully into the dense forest. A teleportation magic door... only a legendary mage could construct such sorcery. He glanced at his wrist runes—perhaps that predecessor had long since vanished into time's passage.
Atop the gate's watchtower, a sharp-eyed eagle suddenly ruffled its feathers. "Damnation! I smell werewolf!"
The nearby officer casually cleaned his musket: "The knight order just swept the area—don't make a fuss."
...
Leyla carefully smoothed the final wrinkle from her dress, the sunhat's ribbon tied in a perfect bow at her throat. The wicker basket held expensive delicacies her mother had prepared—for a family like theirs, these represented the most precious gifts they could offer.
She had visited several neighboring friends, seeking traveling companions. Finally, freckled Bonnie answered her door with face gone pale, the petite girl half-hiding behind it as she whispered: "Leyla! Bayeck isn't a place for people to go! I've seen monsters in the mist myself..."
"Dear Bonnie," Leyla laughed gently while embracing her trembling friend, "if it were truly as dangerous as you claim, why would that elegant gentleman choose to reside there?"
"But the claw marks in the fog—"
"Good day, little superstition-monger." Leyla's skirt traced a graceful arc as she turned, the basket swaying lightly with her steps. Since no companions would join her, she would travel alone to the misty town.