The night had ended, but fear had not fully faded.
Within the Dark Forest, the smoke of dying fires drifted low, and the scent of death lingered among the trees. The bodies of The Collar Guild lay scattered across the ground as the members of Hawk Hollows silently secured the area. There was no celebration of victory—because to them, this had not been a battle.
It had been a judgment.
Violet Zereth stood beside the other freed slaves near a towering tree. The metal collar around her neck had not yet been removed, its cold weight pressing against her skin. Her hands trembled faintly, and her heart refused to settle into a steady rhythm.
She knew she was free—but she could not believe it.
Is this all a dream?
What if I close my eyes and wake up back in the cage?
She looked around.
The members of Hawk Hollows were all masked, dressed in black, and utterly silent. They looked terrifying, yet none of them touched the slaves roughly. No one shouted. No one struck. Instead, they helped the wounded sit, offered water, and began unlocking collars one by one.
One of them knelt in front of Violet.
"Don't move," he said softly as he examined the lock.
Click.
The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed strangely loud in Violet's ears. Without realizing it, she reached for her neck.
For the first time—it was free.
Her breathing deepened, and her eyes stung with moisture. But she did not cry. She had long forgotten how.
At that moment, Eryx Hollowmark approached.
As his presence drew nearer, even the forest seemed to fall silent. He studied Violet for a long moment without speaking.
"You're afraid," he said simply.
Violet nodded. There was no point in pretending otherwise.
"That's natural," Eryx continued.
"But tonight, no one owns you. No one will sell you. No one will take your name from you."
He turned his gaze to the others.
"We can offer you a path. Shelter. Food. Protection. But understand this."
His voice was low—yet heavy.
"Hawk Hollows are not saviors.
We serve no kingdom.
We worship no gods.
We raise our blades only against injustice."
Then his eyes returned to Violet.
"You may leave. Or… you may stay."
The words struck her heavily.
Leave?
Go where?
Her clan was gone. No home. No city. No one left to trust.
But here—stood people who were terrifying, yet honest.
For the first time, Violet lifted her head and met Eryx's gaze.
Her voice was quiet, but clear.
"As you can see…
I am a dark elf of the Zereth clan.
I have no family.
No homeland.
No place to return to.
If I wish to survive, following you is my only choice."
Eryx looked at her as if he understood. His tone softened, if only slightly.
"What is your name?"
"…Violet," she answered quietly.
"Violet Zereth."
Eryx nodded and turned to one of his members.
"Nyssara. Violet is under your protection.
See her safely to our homeland—the heart of Hawk Hollows."
Nyssara replied calmly, her voice sharp yet composed.
"Understood, Eryx."
She stepped forward, rested a reassuring hand on Violet's shoulder, and helped her onto her horse.
The other freed slaves were much the same—having nowhere else to go, they too followed Hawk Hollows. Though frightening in appearance, the members treated every former slave with care and restraint.
Thus began their journey toward Hawk Hollows' homeland—
the forgotten ancient land known as Haunted Land, absent from any map.
The journey was long, and for those once enslaved, the road was harsh. Yet with the aid of Hawk Hollows, they endured. As days passed, fear slowly loosened its grip.
Especially for Violet Zereth—who gradually opened herself to Nyssara and began to trust her.
After more than twenty days of travel, they arrived.
The moment they entered Haunted Land, Violet and the others realized this was a place unheard of—unrecorded by any chart or legend.
Whispers brushed against their ears. Shadows shifted at the edge of vision. Unfamiliar voices echoed without source.
The mist thickened.
Nyssara moved closer to Violet, shielding her slightly, and spoke gently.
"Do not trust what you hear or see.
Breathe deeply and remain calm.
If you don't, your mind will unravel."
Though trembling, Violet felt a measure of peace in her words.
Ahead of them, Eryx—riding at the front—spoke quietly.
"The dead have no right to speak truth.
The living have no excuse to close their eyes to lies."
As he spoke, the mist slowly parted. The whispers faded. The shadows vanished.
Before them stood a massive Gate, engraved with the sigil of Hawk Hollows—countless swords embedded in the ground before it. Slowly, the gate opened.
And thus, they arrived
at the heart of Hawk Hollows.
Violet Zereth and the others who had once been slaves stood frozen—caught between fear and awe—wondering what awaited them beyond that threshold.