Cute Hornet Hollow Knight Novels & Stories

As if even nature rejected the Hollow Kin. They found them just before dusk. The six stood in a half-circle at the edge of a ravine. Motionless. Watching. Waiting. Rowan stepped forward. “Identify yourselves.” No response. Selene lifted her hand, summoning her magic. The nearest one tilted its head. Then—without warning—it leapt. --- The fight was immediate. Brutal. Silent. The Hollow Kin didn’t growl. Didn’t howl. They just attacked with terrifying precision.

She could not fail. The Hollowborn surged again, more ferocious, with their leader, a massive figure wreathed in black flames emerged like a grotesque mockery of a wolf, eyes glowing silver, teeth elongated and jagged. Raven felt the Hollow Blade within her stir violently, its whispers turning sharp, insistent, demanding. She could taste the power, feel it gnawing at her very soul, as it promised total dominance, and annihilation.

He looked like he'd been stung by an entire hives-worth of bees, and was still waiting for the swelling to go down. And then there was Aaron. He was the same height as Big Jim but looked like a rake beside him, which was crazy. Aaron was broad shouldered, almost three times me across and well defined, though you could never tell just how much until he had his shirt off. His hawk tattoo glistened with the trails of sweat running down his tanned chest, its inked talons raking his shuddering stomach as a feathered wing arched itself over his right shoulder.

“They’ve found us.” A Hollow One stepped into view at the cave’s entrance, its skeletal form draped in tattered robes that fluttered like wisps of shadow. Its eyes burned like twin coals in the gathering dusk, and it let out a piercing screech that reverberated off the stone walls. Without hesitation, it charged, its claws outstretched toward them. Caden met it head-on, his sword clashing against its bone-like talons in a shower of sparks. Torren grabbed his daggers, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in his leg, and flanked the creature, his blades darting in to seek weak points in its unnatural defenses.

Back in the Dark Moon Pack, inside the Dark knight inn, where black furry was still recuperating his used up energies. The atmosphere of the room darkened as a Force energy was created. The little beast floated in the air and was surrounded by black smoke. A crack sound was made before everything suddenly went silent. A tall handsome guy, with pointy long pierced ears, and two horns attached in his head stood. His dark golden eyes stared at the surroundings with disgust. Suddenly his neck slightly turned and his eyes shut…. In no time, the horns vanished. Same with his long dark nails.

The Chort staggered backward and whimpered. Logan stabbed his blade into the Chort's belly. It shuddered and crashed onto the stone wall before falling on its body. Logan covered his ears—the commotion that ensued was as loud as the rumbling of thunder. Logan approached the body and kicked it a little. "You didn't have to chip someone's HP away with your death animation, man." He examined the beast's face. He then turned to the horns. The firekey was grown out of it! Almost impressed, Logan plucked it out.

He inhaled sharply and her smirk deepened. Hunter could feel the slightest of the graze. His body was super sensitive. He wondered if it was because of the drink. He could get that it was her who spiked it or perhaps put a potion or something. The nerve of her. "Untie me," His deep growl filled the void with ease and graced the air with humming goosebumps. Her hazel hues snapped up to meet his eyes. His jaw was clenched, those thick brows scrunched in anger. The veins in his neck popped out but what got her attention was his eyes. The pupils were dilated to such an extent that jade green remains just the rims.

The sky *shuddered. The creatures screeched in agony. And the wound began to *close.* One inch. Two. Three. Then A roar split the air. Not from the sky. *From the earth.* A fissure tore through the clearing. And from it rose a figure massive, horned, scaled in silver and black. Its eyes burned with twin eclipses. Mireya dropped to her knees. “No…” Talia gasped. “The Hollowed had a name for it. The Deepborn. The Root That Watches.”

The Verdant Hollow’s core hums beneath my feet, a subterranean chamber where golden-green energy threads converge into a pulsing nexus, the sanctuary’s heart. The air is thick with primal magic, stirring my crescent mark into a steady burn. I move cautiously, my new sight scanning for the keystone the mysterious lunar-eyed figure warned me about—a relic Voren planted to drain the Hollow’s wards. The whisper from the Lunar Well chamber, The bridge will break, echoes in my mind, urging me forward despite the gnawing suspicion that I’m walking into a trap.

Kael didn't look pleased, but he nodded. Moments later we were climbing the northern battlements. The storm hit us immediately, freezing wind and blinding snow, and the fortress stretched below with thousands of wolves preparing for battle. Archers lined the walls, warriors gathered in the courtyard, the entire pack stood ready. Then I saw them. My breath caught. The Hollow Kings. Five figures stood beyond the gates, only five, and somehow that was worse, far worse. They wore black armor that seemed forged from darkness itself, silver crowns resting upon their heads, their faces appearing almost human, almost. Their eyes glowed with pale moonlight, ancient, merciless, immortal.