Chapter 95: The Possible Reason
The MRAP rumbled steadily along the half-forgotten trade road, its reinforced tires crushing weeds and roots that had crept over the crumbling cobblestone. Outside, the terrain was beginning to shift—hills giving way to flattened wetlands, trees thinning into crooked willows, and the air growing wetter with each passing hour.
Inside the vehicle, the mood was tense, but thoughtful.
"Tell me again," Lyra said from the turret seat, tapping the side of the crystal lantern mounted beside her. "Why would anyone want to rebuild Hollowmere into a summoning ground?"
"It’s not about Hollowmere," Arienne replied, her voice steady from the middle bench. "It’s about isolation. No witnesses. No patrols. No one to interrupt."
Korrik grunted. "Still seems stupid. That place is cursed. Every legend says so."
Garen turned from his seat near the rear hatch. "Legends are usually built on truth. Wasn’t it wiped out during the arcane plague?"
Arienne nodded. "Forty years ago. The illness spread fast, but it wasn’t natural. Records from that time mention fluctuations in leylines—magic going wild. Rituals failing. Corpses rising. The kind of anomalies you’d expect when reality begins to tear."
"Sounds familiar," Inigo muttered from the driver’s seat.
They fell quiet for a moment, the hum of the engine filling the void.
"I don’t think Hollowmere was ever abandoned," Inigo added. "Not completely."
"What do you mean?" Lyra asked.