Night fell over Eldrath like a heavy blanket, swallowing the last traces of orange and pink from the sky. The streets had grown quieter, but the patrols hadn’t lessened. If anything, there were more elves walking the cobblestone paths now, their glowing mana lamps casting long shadows against the buildings.

Jason pressed his back against the cold stone wall of the elder’s hut, peering through a crack in the wooden shutters.

"They’re still out there," he whispered.

Ylva stood behind him, Thalion’s frail body draped across her shoulders. The elf’s breathing was shallow, his silver hair hanging like wet rope, but his eyes were open. Barely.

"I can... I can help," Thalion murmured, his voice cracking. Every word seemed to cost him something. "J-just... give me a m-moment."

Jason turned to look at him. "You can barely stand, man. What are you going to do?"

Thalion’s pale hand trembled as he raised it. His fingers moved slowly, tracing symbols in the air that Jason couldn’t see but could feel. The temperature around them dropped slightly, and the shadows in the corner of the hut seemed to stretch and reach toward them like living things.

"A s-subtle spell," Thalion stammered, wincing with every syllable. "It w-won’t hide us completely... b-but it will bend light around us. Make it h-harder for them to s-see us directly."

Ylva adjusted the elf’s weight on her shoulders, her claws digging into his arm to keep him steady. "Can you maintain it while we move?"

"I’ll h-have to," Thalion replied. "Or w-we die."

Jason watched as the shadows wrapped around them, not covering them but somehow making their outlines fuzzy, indistinct. It was like looking at them through rippled water.

Then it hit Jason. This was how Thalion had managed to move through the streets with so many guards present. The elf must have been using this same spell, or something like it, to crawl his way across the city despite his injuries.

"Smart," Jason muttered. "Really fucking smart."

Thalion’s cracked lips twitched into something that might have been a smile. "S-survival."

The elder werewolf opened the door just wide enough for them to slip through. She didn’t say goodbye, didn’t wish them luck. She just watched with those cloudy eyes until they disappeared into the night.

Jason led the way, keeping close to the walls, his eyes scanning every corner, every shadow. Ylva followed behind him, Thalion bouncing slightly with each step she took.

The streets were worse than Jason had expected. Elven guards stood at every major intersection, their armor gleaming under the mana lamps. Some had dogs—no, not dogs. Jason had no idea what they were but they were massive, snarling creatures with eyes that glowed red in the dark.

But the guards kept walking past them. Looking right through them. Thalion’s spell was working but how was it fooling the ’dogs’ senses?

Jason hated it, but the thought crossed his mind anyway. He had gotten laid twice already since arriving in this world. First with Ylva, then with Tauriel. And it seemed his mistaken identity—being treated like some "Great One" or pure-blood elf—might be the reason his life could become easier.

Tauriel was eager for his semen. The way she had looked at him, touched and ultimately fucked him... Jason already established these creatures were freaky as hell. Every single one of them seemed to have some kind of agenda, some kind of twisted desire.

But he had to calm himself.

He glanced back at Ylva, watching the way her muscles flexed under her fur as she carried Thalion without complaint. She handled everything well. The chaos, the danger, the fact that he had slept with another female right after sleeping with her. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream, didn’t make it about herself.

This was his mate. And to be honest, Jason liked her.

She was nothing like the women he had in his past life. Where could a man find a woman who would lay her life down for him in his past life before being reincarnated in this world? Exactly. Those women didn’t exist. They wanted things from you—money, status, attention. The moment things got hard, they were gone.

But Ylva?

Ylva was carrying a dying elf on her back simply because Jason told her to. No questions. No arguments. Just action.

"Jason," Ylva whispered from behind him. "We need to find somewhere to rest. He’s getting heavier."

"I know," Jason said, scanning the street ahead. "I’m looking."

They turned a corner and found themselves in a wider square. Fewer guards here, but still too many open sightlines. Jason was about to turn back when his eyes caught something on a wooden post.

A poster with most of its information ripped up.

It was worn out but the writing was clear enough. It looked like a map, or maybe directions to somewhere different. The Adventurer’s Guide or was it Guild? Jason couldn’t make out the faded ink.

Jason had no idea what it was, but the symbol at the bottom—a crossed sword and staff—felt significant.

"What’s that?" Ylva asked, following his gaze.

"I don’t know," Jason admitted. "But look at the direction on it. It’s pointing toward the outer district. Away from this town."

Ylva tilted her head. "You want to go there?"

Jason nodded slowly. "We need a place to settle down. We can’t be moving from town to town forever, Ylva. That’s not living. That’s just surviving."

"We barely know anywhere," Ylva said, her voice tight.

"Then we learn it, together" Jason replied. He reached out and tore the poster from the post, stuffing it into his pocket. "One step at a time."

Behind them, Thalion let out a weak cough. "T-This is... g-good for... for people like you. Outsiders. They ask... f-fewer questions."

Jason looked at the elf. "You know about it?"

Thalion’s eyes fluttered. "I w-wasn’t always... in that c-cage."

Jason exchanged a look with Ylva. Then he nodded toward the direction the poster pointed.

"Let’s move."