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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY THREE: The Hollow March

Author: Skye Wilder
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-09-11 17:49:59

The first scream did not come from the battlefield. It came from the wind.

A tearing sound, high and thin, like the wail of something being ripped apart from the inside. Maxim stilled where he stood on the ridge of broken stone, his oath-bound around him in a jagged half-circle. The sky had dimmed in patches, clouds forming where none should be. And beneath it—where the Hollow’s gate smoldered like a wound in the world—the air pulsed.

Then the ground opened.

From the crack spilled no flame, no smoke, but shadow—liquid and thick, spilling like tar, carrying with it shapes. Not wolves. Not men. Not anything with names.

The first of the Hollow’s spawn dragged itself into the light of ash-grey day. It moved wrong, too many joints, its head bowed backward, its eyes pale as bone. Another crawled after it, and then another, and then the flood began.

“Saints…” someone whispered behind Maxim, but the sound was drowned in the rise of the creatures’ cry. It was no howl, no roar. It was hunger gi
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