The world twisted for a moment — light bending and pulling — before Trafalgar, Garrika, and Sylven stepped out of the shimmering Gate. The hum of mana behind them faded, replaced by the noise of life.
Verdant Hollow spread wide before them, half wild and half tamed. Around the Gate stood a vast hunting outpost — tents of stitched hide, wooden stalls, and small forges glowing beneath makeshift roofs. The air was hot, heavy with smoke, sweat, and the metallic tang of mana-charged steel.
Dozens of hunters moved through the clearing. Some bargained for supplies, others compared trophies or polished weapons already stained with blood. The crowd was a blend of races — humans, elves, beastkin, dwarves, and demons — all carrying the same sharp look of hunger and purpose.
Trafalgar took it all in silently, hands in his pockets. 'So this is Verdant Hollow… feels more like a marketplace than a hunting ground.'
