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Chapter 23 - Shadows In The Hollow

The air at the back of the meeting hall hung heavy with tension, as though the stone walls themselves were holding their breath. Torches flickered weakly along the edges, casting long shadows that danced across the worn floor.

Mikael stood with an unsettling calmness, a crooked smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he cast a sidelong glance toward Reu, caged and bruised. Then, without a word, he leaned slightly closer to Headman Andros, who remained rooted in place, arms crossed, brows furrowed deep in contemplation. The silence between them was thick with implication—a storm of schemes brewing in the stillness.

"We can use these three, Headman Andros," Mikael whispered. "We can twist the story—make the villagers believe they're the cause of the disappearances."

Andros arched a brow, skepticism lacing his tone. "Would that work? How do we spin it?"

Mikael scratched his jaw, his confidence momentarily faltering. "That... I don't know. But it could sow enough doubt."

The headman shook his head. "No. Not yet. It's too early for that move."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Mikael's face. "Then perhaps we can use them to help us. Send them into the woods."

Andros sighed, standing and stepping toward the cage. "I'm telling you, Mikael, we can't trust strangers. They could be spies from the cities for all we know. Let's just leave them for now."

With that, the two men together with the others exited the back area, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Left behind in their cage, Reu sat up, his arms still bound. He looked to Brea and then down at Toby, who lay unconscious, weak and pale.

"That man Mikael... he resembles the one who attacked us in the woods," Reu muttered.

Brea's eyes narrowed. "The one that snatched me?"

Reu nodded. "Yes. Pale yellow slit pupils. Whiskers. Same aura."

"Hmm... Well, we'll figure that out later. Right now, we need to get out of this cage."

Reu looked around in frustration. "How? This thing is solid."

Suddenly, a rustle in the nearby trees interrupted them. Both of them turned, alert. From the shadows, a figure leapt down with canine grace.

It was the hooded figure from the Darkwoods—the one Reu and Toby had battled. The figure stepped forward, lifting its tattered hood slowly, revealing a sharp-featured man with pale yellow slit eyes and striking resemblance to Mikael.

"You!" Reu snarled. "I knew it was you, Mikael!"

The man chuckled, his voice smooth. "Mikael? Ahaha. No, I am Havilah. His brother."

Brea tensed. "Why did you attack us?"

Havilah offered a small, almost mischievous smile. "It wasn't meant to harm. I was captivated... by the lady's beauty."

Brea's jaw dropped. "What!?"

Reu's voice rose in anger. "You think attacking us is really necessary?!"

"Her beauty doesn't belong in such dangerous places. I had to see if those who traveled with her could truly protect someone like her—someone radiant, fierce, and unknowingly rare. It was a reckless way to measure strength, I admit, but in this world, appearances deceive and danger often hides behind charm. I had to know if your loyalty matched your courage, if your reflexes matched your convictions. Only then could I feel at ease knowing she wasn't surrounded by cowards."

Reu growled, his eyes burning with defiance. "We held our own against you, and you know it."

Havila chuckled, the sound deep and amused. "Then let us test each other again, someday—without cages, and without tricks. Just skill against skill."

Reu folded his arms tightly, the weight of their situation pressing down on him. "Talk later. Help us escape first if you want a rematch."

Havila scoffed, his grin widening. "Now you want my help? After clawing at me in the forest like rabid dog?" He paused, then his expression shifted to something more thoughtful. "Still... maybe you've earned it."

Brea stepped closer, softening her voice. "Please, Havila... help us."

A glint of amusement and curiosity sparked in Havila's eyes. Without hesitation, he transformed, his limbs stretching, muscles bulging as fur spread over his skin. In seconds, a towering werewolf stood before them. With one powerful swipe, he pried open the cage door like it was paper.

Brea stumbled back, stunned. Reu blinked in disbelief. "How did you...? I couldn't even budge it."

As Havila reverted to human form, he tossed a grin over his shoulder. "That cage was made of Nullium. Special iron that weakens Heartstone bearers. It also can't be opened from the inside."

Reu quickly scooped up the groggy Toby, and the trio followed Havila into the depths of the forest.

"Where are we going?" Brea asked as branches whipped past them.

"Somewhere safe. Just keep up," Havila replied.

After some time, they reached a small clearing. A gentle hill rose before them, and at its peak stood a modest hut of wood and stone.

"There," Havila pointed. "That place is my home."

Back at Hollow Village, chaos had erupted.

"Headman Andros!" a guard shouted, breathless. "The prisoners are gone!"

Andros slammed a fist on the table. "What!? Mikael! MIKAEL! Where is he?"

Drogbo entered, grinning from ear to ear. "Let me go after them, Headman."

Andros glared. "Don't harm them. We need them alive."

Drogbo nodded. "I'll go easy... if they do too."

Andros barked, "Drogbo! Go!"

The brute exited, laughter trailing behind him.

Back in the woods, Havila and the Vesper Knights finally reached his hut.

"This is where I live," Havila said, opening the creaky door.

Brea stepped inside, surprised. "It's... clean. Tidy. For someone like..."

"Like me?" Havila finished. "Say what you will, my heart's already broken. I fell for you, Brea."

Toby, half-awake, chuckled. Brea rolled her eyes and smacked him playfully.

"Go easy on our chief," Reu teased.

"If that idiot dies, I wouldn't even care," Brea muttered, though a smirk played on her lips. "And stop your poetic nonsense, Havila."

"As you wish, my Brea," he said with a dramatic bow.

Inside, Havila offered fruits and roots. "Enjoy. I'll cook us something warm."

Reu took a seat, finally asking, "Why are you helping us?"

Havila paused, then smiled faintly. "At first... it was Brea. But truthfully, I'm an outcast. A lycan. Once, we were accepted here. Under Headman Martin, Hollow Village welcomed all. But when he vanished and Andros rose, the disappearances began. The villagers blamed us. Caged us. We became whispers in the dark, blamed for everything that went wrong. It didn't matter that we once protected these lands. Fear replaced trust."

He stirred the pot, his voice low. "Mikael played along. Staged a rescue, earned Andros's trust. He told me to stay close to power... but I couldn't. I tried. I did. But every time I stood beside them, I felt like a ghost haunting my own village. I'd rather live alone in silence than serve a corrupt fool who masks tyranny with ceremony.Watching innocent people vanish without a trace, seeing children cry for lost parents, listening to the lies spill from Andros's mouth while the people swallowed them whole... It poisoned everything. Every day, I looked in the mirror and saw less of myself. The shame, the helplessness—it clawed at me until there was nothing left to give. So I walked away. I chose exile over betrayal. My hands may be stained, but at least they're not soaked in the blood of the innocent."

Before they could reply, Havila stiffened. His nostrils flared, and his head turned slightly, as though catching an invisible scent carried on the wind. His pupils narrowed to sharp slits. Every muscle in his body went taut.

Reu stood, alert. "What is it?"

Havila raised a hand, silencing them with a subtle gesture. He stepped toward the window, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor. The mist outside had thickened, curling around the trees like ghostly fingers. A sudden hush fell over the forest—no chirping birds, no rustling leaves, just an eerie, oppressive stillness.

"I smell something," Havila whispered. "No... someone. Not animal. Not villager. Something... wrong."

He leaned slightly forward, peering through the fog-drenched glass.

Then, from the veil of mist, a shadowy silhouette emerged—tall, broad, almost unnaturally still. The figure stood at the edge of the clearing, where the forest met the hill. Though shrouded in gray, the outline of the man's stance was unmistakable—powerful and poised, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

The figure raised a hand, not in greeting—but in challenge.

A voice rolled through the fog like distant thunder.

"HAVILAH!"

The name echoed against the hills, low and guttural, charged with menace.

Toby stirred more fully, eyes wide. Brea moved instinctively toward the window, but Havila stepped in front of her.

"Stay back," he said, his voice cold now, laced with a growl. "I know that voice."

Reu gripped a nearby blade, tension sharpening every line of his posture. "Who is it?"

Havila didn't answer immediately. His jaw clenched. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

Outside, the figure took a step forward—just one—and the earth seemed to tremble under the weight of his presence.

Another voice followed, guttural and low. "You've broken rules, brother. Now I've come to pay you a visit."

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