CH432 Hollowcrest Wildlands II

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The Hollowcrest Wildlands—a savage, lawless land devoid of the light of civilisation, where its inhabitants had long since regressed to the primal rule of the jungle.

A no man's land that belonged to no one… and everyone.

As its name suggested, Hollowcrest was an ecologically hollow landscape. A land painted in red, yellow, and brown, with little trace of green. Dry, hard, and unforgiving, it was a vast arid expanse filled with endlessly weathered rock formations of every shape and size—hard plains, rocky hills, dry mountains, canyons, caves, and jagged ridges.

Together, they formed a complex and treacherous terrain, one riddled with perfect hiding spots for both filth and beacons of character alike—those desperate or monstrous enough to carve out an existence in these lands.

The Wildlands were, in essence, a desert. Barren and hostile, containing little more than rock and sand. On rare occasions, a stubborn plant might be seen clinging to life at the foot of a towering rock formation, sheltered briefly from the punishing sun. But water was scarce. No river could survive the damnable heat of this place.

At best, small streams might briefly form during the rare rainfall, only to be swallowed soon after by the thirsty earth and the relentless sun.

The only true sanctuaries of life in this hellish landscape were the oases scattered across it.

These oases served as the foundations of the Wildlands' few settlements and acted as the region's seats of power—if such a term could even be used here.

And it went without saying that, more often than not, every inch of those oases was soaked in blood.

For only in such places could power take root. And in Hollowcrest, power was built with blood.

Alex took a deep breath as he gazed upon the landscape they had finally reached after two weeks of travel. The dry heat hit him immediately, coarse air scraping his lungs as a hot gust of wind washed over his face.

The air alone made it painfully clear—

They had arrived in a completely different world.

They had crossed grasslands, mountains, and forests only to arrive at a desert.

They had travelled through numerous fiefdoms teeming with life and structured society, just to reach a land where law was scarce, and civilisation—if it existed at all—was hanging by a thread.

A land where innocence was almost non-existent.

Vagabonds, villains, robbers, bandits, and slavers roamed in great numbers.

These were blood-soaked lands—lands that drank their fill of blood daily. Human, demi-human, beast, monster… it made no difference.

The Hollowcrest Wildlands were mostly barren, yes. But like all things, they held value—if one knew where and how to look.

There existed alchemical resources that could only be found in the uniquely harsh environment of the Wildlands. Resources so rare and valuable that they alone had caused rivers of blood to be spilled.

Unique beasts and monsters also roamed the land, many of which possessed rare materials and body parts that could not be found anywhere else. Such ingredients which were irreplaceable in the crafting of high-grade items and products in the civilised world.

Likewise, rumours spoke of ancient ruins and hidden treasures scattered across the Wildlands—remnants of a bygone era. After all, the region had not always been so desolate. It was believed to have been a thriving land in antiquity, long before whatever calamity had reduced it to this state.

And finally, there were the smuggling routes.

—or rather, trade routes—

that cut through these forsaken lands, linking multiple empires together. These routes alone were enough to draw every manner of unsavoury individual into the Wildlands.

Alex raised his gaze to the scorching sun overhead.

It was noon.

His companions were exhausted, sweat pouring off them in streams. Even individuals with their level of resilience could not fully escape the fatigue imposed by the oppressive heat.

Zora was the worst affected.

Her elemental affinity was fundamentally opposed to the environment. She managed only thanks to Fen, who—surprisingly—found that in his black fire-wolf form, he could absorb ambient heat, creating a small pocket of cooler air around himself.

As such, Zora held him in his cub form like a living cooling pack.

Conversely, Alex and Eleanor were mostly unaffected.

The heat annoyed them, yes, but it did little more than that. Their Solar affinity allowed them to endure the conditions far better than most.

They were fortunate to have horses.

Traversing the Wildlands on foot would have been nightmarish.

Thanks to the horses looted from Barnsil Castle—those they had not yet sold—each member had two mounts to rotate between. This allowed them to manage the animals' stress and fatigue, maintaining their pace across the harsh terrain.

Even so, there were limits.

Save for Dread—who was a being of fire and heat himself—the horses had begun panting heavily.

Even Senu, who usually revelled in the freedom of the skies, had descended to rest within Alex's shadow which overlapped with Dread'a.

The Wildlands spared no one.

Alex led the group beneath the shadow of a low hill and called out,

"Let's rest here. We'll wait until evening before setting off again."

The order was met with quiet relief.

The expedition party quickly set up camp under the hill's shade, grateful for even this small respite from the merciless sun.

Fighting their fatigue just long enough, the men cleared the ground and prepared places to rest.

Fen reverted to his adolescent form, conjuring slightly unsteady water tentacles—still affected by his current fire-aligned state—to retrieve his cooking utensils and set up a cooking area. Soon, he was hard at work preparing a meal.

By now, the sight had become routine.

The group no longer reacted with surprise, only anticipation, wondering what their culinary wolf would produce this time.

Alex moved away from the men's subdued chatter and activity, settling into a quieter corner to study a crude map Udara and her scouting team had acquired prior to their entry into the Wildlands. He compared it with the map he had looted from Barnsil Fortress after wiping out its defence force.

Even combined, they barely offered a complete picture of the Hollowcrest Wildlands.

On this plane, complete maps were priceless.

And complete maps of the Hollowcrest Wildlands were even more so.

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