Gage was the lowest link on the food chain. Literally.
In the modern world of Awakened Hunters, a person was either the hero swinging the glowing magic sword, or they were the guy carrying the snacks. Gage was the snack guy. He was a Class-F Porter for the Ironclad Guild. His official job description was to carry the heavy bags, extract the monster cores after the fight, and try his absolute hardest not to get stepped on.
Right now, he was failing miserably at that last part.
"Gage! Watch your left, you idiot!" yelled Marcus, the meat-head tank of their hunting party.
Gage dove headfirst into the mud just as a massive, armored mutant boar charged past him. The wind from its passing nearly ripped his cheap safety goggles right off his face. He scrambled to his feet, his oversized backpack clanking loudly with spare potions and ammo.
"Maybe if you actually held the aggro, Marcus, I wouldn't have to practice my gymnastics!" Gage shouted back, frantically wiping a glob of foul-smelling mud from his cheek.
Gage's stats were absolute garbage. He had the physical strength of an anemic librarian and the mana capacity of a damp sponge. But what he lacked in brawn, he made up for in common sense—a trait that his so-called "elite" party sorely lacked.
"It's looping around!" Gage warned them, checking the deep tracks in the dirt. "It's using the trees for cover! Set the snare trap!"
Did they listen to the Class-F Porter? Of course not.
Marcus swung his giant hammer, missed the charging boar entirely, and smashed it directly into the side of a cavern wall. The impact sent a massive shockwave through the ground. The earth beneath Gage's boots groaned.
"Hey, big guy?" Gage called out, his voice cracking slightly. "I think you hit a load-bearing rock."
Before Marcus could turn around to hurl an insult, the ground simply gave way.
There was no epic flash of lightning. No holy chanting. Just a pathetic squeak escaping Gage's lips as the dirt collapsed beneath his feet. He fell backward into a sinkhole that was suddenly glowing with an unnatural, sickly sweet violet light.
He didn't even have time to curse his terrible luck. The world spun. Gravity inverted, twisted into a knot, and then violently snapped back into place.
Smack.
Gage hit the ground face-first. Hard.
For a second, all he could hear was a high-pitched ringing in his ears. He groaned, his entire body aching like he had just been put through a commercial washing machine. Slowly, his senses started to return, and the first thing he noticed was the smell. Gone was the damp, smoggy scent of the Earth dungeon. Instead, his lungs filled with the rich, heavy scent of blooming exotic flowers, wet earth, and fresh pine.
He slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, spitting out a mouthful of incredibly clean dirt.
"Okay," Gage wheezed, adjusting his crooked goggles. "Not dead. That's a plus. Marcus, you owe me a new spine—"
A low, guttural growl vibrated through the air. It was so deep it rattled the teeth in Gage's skull.
He froze. Slowly, agonizingly, he looked up.
Standing not ten feet away from him was a monster that made the Earth boar look like a household pet. It was a massive panther, but its fur was a shimmering, midnight blue, and two massive, curved tusks jutted from its lower jaw. It had four eyes, all of them locked directly onto his squishy, unarmored body.
Oh, Gage thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. I am a snack.
The beast gathered its powerful hind legs, muscles bunching under its sleek coat. It opened its massive jaws to roar.
Thwack!
Something dropped from the thick jungle canopy above with the speed of a falling star. It slammed feet-first directly onto the beast's skull. The sheer force of the impact drove the giant panther's head straight into the dirt, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and pulverized leaves.
Gage scrambled backward on his hands and crab-walked away, his eyes wide in absolute shock.
As the dust cleared, he forgot how to breathe.
Standing on top of the twitching, unconscious panther was the most terrifyingly beautiful woman Gage had ever seen. She looked like she had just stepped straight out of a high-end fantasy illustration.
She was tall, with perfectly toned, sun-kissed skin. She wore a tribal outfit crafted from thick white fur and deep brown leather wraps that hugged her figure perfectly. A necklace of massive, jagged bone teeth rested against her collarbone, and thick fur boots covered her calves. Her hair was a waterfall of dark, wild ink, tied back practically, save for a few strands that framed a face with startlingly fierce, bright green eyes. A small, polished jade stone rested on her forehead, hinting at an ancient, untamed culture.
She stepped off the beast, spinning a beautifully crafted spear in her hands like it weighed nothing at all. The spearhead gleamed like polished glass.
She didn't even look at the monster she had just taken down. Her piercing green eyes were locked on Gage.
She tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over his mud-stained cargo pants, his cheap canvas jacket, and the heavy, ridiculous backpack strapped to his shoulders. Gage felt completely naked under her intense scrutiny.
"Prey?" she muttered.
Somehow, Gage perfectly understood her words. The magic of the portal must have hard-wired a translator into his brain. But right now, he was far more concerned with the fact that she was pointing the very sharp end of her spear directly at his chest.
"Uh," Gage squeaked, raising his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "Friendly? I come in peace? Please don't poke me with that."
She clicked her tongue in disgust. "Not prey. Too weak. No meat on the bones."
Ouch. Gage's pride took a small hit, but he was mostly just glad he wasn't on the menu.
She turned her back to him, clearly dismissing his existence entirely, and crouched down to inspect the giant panther. "A good hunt," she said to herself, drawing a small obsidian knife from her belt.
Okay, Gage, he told himself. She's busy. Just quietly stand up, back away into the bushes, and figure out how to survive in this insane jungle without getting eaten.
He slowly got to his feet, wincing as he tried not to let his backpack clink.
But before he could take a single step, the jungle around them began to hum. It was a soft, musical vibration, like a chorus of tiny bells echoing through the massive, ancient trees.
The warrior woman froze, her knife hovering over the panther. She stood up instantly, her fierce eyes widening with deep reverence. She dropped her spear to the dirt and fell to one knee, bowing her head.
Gage had no idea what she was bowing at, until he saw the lights.
Dozens of small, glowing orbs floated out from the thick foliage. They were beautiful, pulsing with a soft, warm, golden light. They looked like little floating dandelions.
"The Forest Ancestors," the woman whispered, her voice trembling with awe. She kept her head bowed respectfully. "You honor this hunt."
Gage just stood there, awkwardly clutching the straps of his backpack. The glowing orbs drifted right past the kneeling badass warrior. They completely ignored the massive panther.
Instead, they swarmed him.
"Hey, wait, what—"
Gage tried to swat them away, but they were intangible. The warm little orbs nuzzled against his cheeks, vibrated happily against his chest, and buzzed around his ears. A dozen of them settled on the top of his head, linking together to form a glowing, golden halo that looked suspiciously like a crown.
The warrior woman slowly raised her head. When she saw the sacred, ancient spirits of her forest treating a muddy, terrified stranger like a jungle gym, her jaw practically hit the forest floor.
"No," she whispered, her green eyes flashing with sudden outrage.
The orbs on Gage's head vibrated aggressively at her, emitting a sharp series of chirps.
"Absolutely not!" she yelled at the glowing balls of light, pointing an accusatory finger directly at Gage. "Look at him! He is as soft as a grub! He tripped over his own feet just standing up!"
The orbs buzzed louder, glowing blindingly bright. It was clearly a scolding.
Gage stood perfectly still, afraid to move. "Excuse me?" he interrupted, raising a cautious finger. "What exactly are they saying?"
The woman shot him a glare so deadly it could have melted steel. She stood up, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. She looked back and forth between the angry, glowing spirits and his incredibly unimpressive physique.
"The Ancestors have spoken," she gritted out, looking like she wanted to physically vomit the words. "They say you are the... the Supreme Chieftain. The one who will unite the Wilds."
Gage blinked. Once. Twice.
"I think your floating fireflies need glasses," Gage said honestly. "I'm a Class-F Porter. I carry bags. I can't even open a jar of pickles on the first try."
"Do not insult the Ancestors!" she snapped, grabbing her spear from the dirt. She took a deep, steadying breath, clearly fighting a massive internal battle. She looked at the sky, muttering something under her breath that sounded heavily like a plea for patience to whatever gods were listening.
Then, she marched over to him.
"Whoa, hey, let's talk about this!" Gage yelped, backing up hastily. "I'm sure there's been a mix-up in the prophecy department—"
She didn't let him finish. She grabbed the collar of his jacket with one hand, hooked her other arm firmly behind his knees, and hoisted him into the air like he weighed less than a sack of flour.
"Hey!" Gage shouted, his face instantly burning hot as she effortlessly tucked him against her chest in a perfect princess carry. "Put me down! I can walk!"
"You would not survive three steps," she said flatly, her intense gaze scanning the tree line for danger. "The Ancestors claim you are my Chieftain. My Vanguard oath binds me. I will take you to the Sun-Blood Clan."
"But I don't want to be a chieftain!" Gage protested, dangling awkwardly in the arms of a woman who smelled like pine needles and absolute danger.
"And I do not want a grub for a king," she replied smoothly, her powerful legs bending as she prepared to jump. "It seems the Ancestors are testing both of us today."
Without another word, the warrior woman leaped twenty feet into the air, carrying her new, squishy, terrified chieftain into the depths of the savage jungle.
Well, Gage thought as the wind rushed past his face. At least he wasn't carrying the bags anymore.