The next morning, the eight of them left for the mainland. Before riding out, they torched the old farmstead, hoping the flames would burn away the lingering filth and stench of corruption.
As they rode north, Maeve pulled alongside Rena. Now that her romantic fantasy of the Lawless Land was dead, she wanted cold facts about what lay ahead. She asked Rena to share everything she had learned from the dead creep and the documents found in his house.
Rena nodded and motioned for the group to pull in close.
She explained that the Lawless Land was a massive geopolitical anomaly- a long, narrow strip running east to west across the continent, squeezed between big powers, mountain ranges, and open seas.
To the north lay the southern border of the Noble Empire of Indoris and the Great Indoris Basin Lake. To the south stood the Black Ridge Mountains, acting as a massive wall between the strip and the Seven Cities. The western edge met the Jade Sea, giving pirates and smugglers direct access to the shore. To the east, the border penetrated into the dense, uncharted Elven Woodlands.
She broke the terrain down into three main zones:
The Western Swamps- a misty coastal marsh packed with hidden smuggler coves and floating pirate towns.
The Central Barrens- Craggy badlands full of dry valleys, abandoned mines, and hidden fortresses.
The Eastern Forests- Deep, rocky woods near the elven border, thick with rogue beastmen, fugitive covens, and exiled dark alchemists.
Just as the name implied, there was no king, council, or law. Order was kept purely by profit, fear, and the threat of mutual destruction.
Unofficially however, five factions held most power in this land.
The Black Syndicate Alliance- a loose cartel of thieves' guilds and black-market bosses controlling the main trade roads. Their only rule was Kill or rob anyone you want, but never touch trade convoys or market hubs. Break that, and they erase you.
The Dead Hands- a alliance of independent assassin guilds operating out of hidden mountain vaults and fortified compounds beyond state reach.
The Rogue Mercenaries- Unlike official guilds in Valoria or Aethelgard, these private armies were made of deserters, ex-knights, and war criminals. They sold heavy muscle, infantry, and siege weapons to anyone with coin.
The Dark Scholars, basically Mages fleeing execution by Solara's Holy Order set up hidden labs in ruined forts. They crafted volatile poisons, illegal enhancements, and flesh-magic to sell across the continent.
And then there were Exiled Cults- Fanatical zealots driven out of civilized lands who built isolated compounds to brainwash their followers.
The region had no capital, only scattered settlements. The largest were the Central Nexus Hubs-massive black-market strongholds built in ruined fortresses where syndicate enforcers strictly banned violence so high-stakes auctions and slave trades could run smoothly. Along the coast were Smuggler Ports built on wooden stilts, and along the roads were Walled Inns- fortified compounds charging extortionate prices for a single night of safe water and shelter.
Rena warned them that no guards were coming if trouble started. Picking a fight with the wrong person meant facing an entire guild's army. Information moved fast, with thieves' guild ears in every tavern. As Lord Thorne had said, moral posturing meant nothing here- only strength, ruthless logic, and quick action would keep them alive.
When Rena finished speaking, no one said a word. The squad rode in silence, letting all the grim information sink in.
When Rena finished speaking, no one said a word. The squad rode in silence, letting all the grim information sink in.
For the first time, Maeve felt a sharp wave of doubt about her decision to bring the rescued girl along. She began to fear that the child would prove to be dead weight, and that her own empathy might end up costing the entire team their lives.
Rena looked over at Maeve and instantly understood what was going through her head. She spoke up clearly so the whole group could hear, "Any decision made by a member of this team becomes the decision of the entire team. We were handpicked by our lords for a reason. They chose the best people for this operation, so we need to have faith in each other instead of doubting or blaming one another."
Maeve's face brightened with relief and gratitude, and she kicked her mount to pick up her pace.
As the day wore on, they passed sparse homesteads and patches of farmland. Some were worked by humans, others by demihumans. They even ran across a few farms operated entirely by goblins, where humans were shockingly harnessed and used as draft livestock in place of cattle. The team's stomachs turned at the sight, but they forced themselves to keep riding. Their mission was not to play hero and liberate locals or teach morality to this land. Their job was to finish their task as quickly as possible while drawing as little attention as they could.
A few small bandit gangs tried to block their path along the road, but the team dealt with them swiftly and thoroughly, ensuring not a single bandit survived to run back and alert a larger group.
By early afternoon, they arrived at a large stone structure that had the clear vibe of a roadside inn. An elf boy spotted them from the porch and came running out toward their mounts, "Are you heading toward Bozkar? The market won't open until midnight! You can rest up inside our inn for the time being."
Rena noticed four rough-looking men working around the yard who had stopped what they were doing and were now staring intently at the group.
"We would like to keep moving forward, dear boy," Cillian said smoothly, "We don't need any rest."
"You're from the cities, aren't you?" the boy grinned, looking them up and down, "I could tell the second I saw you!"
Rena saw that the four men had each picked up a heavy weapon and were casually spreading out to encircle their group from all sides.
"Run along, boy," Rena commanded in a dry, calm tone, "Our wolves don't like being kept waiting for long."
The boy looked over at the massive direwolves. As the beasts let out a low growl, he quickly took a step back.
The four men closed the gap, surrounding the group. "Is there a problem, Quickfoot?" one big, burly man asked, stepping forward, "Are these people bullying you?"
Rena found the whole setup almost funny. Instead of feeling trapped, she looked down at the elf boy and offered a mocking smile, "Yes, boy. Tell these scary uncles if we're picking on little poor you."
One of the men stepped right up alongside Rena's saddle, "Who are you calling uncle, girl? I ain't a day older than eighteen, even if I look like I'm in my thirties!"
"Oh, really?" Rena purred, casting a sly glance down at him, "Judging by the way you and your friends are acting, I figured you were still wearing diapers."
"Why, you little….!" The man lunged to grab her, but Rena displayed unmatched speed. She dodged his hands effortlessly, grabbed his forearm, twisted it hard behind his back, and yanked him straight off his feet with a single hand.
"You crossed a line you shouldn't have!" the big burly man shouted. He roared and pounced at Rena, but Cillian moved like lightning. He slammed his heavy metal scabbard straight across the man's face, cracking him hard and knocking him flat into the dirt.
Zot'r dropped down off his wolf, grabbed the remaining two men together by their collars, smashed their heads together with a sickening thud, and dumped their dazed bodies onto the ground.
The first man stumbled back up, wiping blood from his smashed mouth, and threatened, "I'll show you cretins what happens when you cross us…."
Before he could take two steps back, Jax pounced forward like a dark shadow. He grabbed the man's face in his hand, his sharp claws digging deep into the flesh until blood ran down his palm.
"Say one more word and I'll crush your face like a melon," Jax growled softly, "You messed with the wrong group."
"ENOUGH!" a strong, authoritative female voice barked from the porch.
Everyone turned to look. A middle-aged elf woman was walking down the wooden steps, with the young elf boy hiding nervously behind her skirts.
"Just because this is called the Lawless Land doesn't mean anyone can just throw their weight around at will," she said sharply, "My boy offered you a place to rest, and in return, you dare to beat up my men?"
Jax shoved the bleeding man away, sending him stumbling back. The man quickly scrambled off to treat his bleeding face. Jax stepped up toward the woman, "Even if we tell you it was your men who started this, I doubt you're going to buy that story, are you?"
The lady shot a fierce glare at the boy behind her. Quickfoot swallowed hard and stammered, "I-I was just asking them to rest! The market ahead won't open until midnight!"
Rena rode her wolf forward until the beast was breathing hot air directly into the boy's face. "My boy," she said in a slow, taunting whisper, "a half-truth is much closer to a lie than the truth. Do you know that? When you tell something to someone, tell the whole story, or it might put you in serious danger later."
The boy choked back a squeak. He tried to speak, but the elf woman held up a hand to quiet him.
"Normally, I would charge you a heavy fee for hurting my workers," she said, looking over the squad. "But you clearly look new around here, so I'm cutting you some slack. Pay four silvers for their medical treatment, and I'll let you go on your way."
Rena stared at her with deep amusement for a long moment, and then burst into outright laughter. Her teammates joined in right behind her, causing the elf woman's pale face to flush bright red with embarrassment.
"We are actually going to stay the night here, lady," Rena said, wiping her eyes as she stopped laughing, "Add those four silvers to our room tab. And if we find the food and the beds to our liking, we'll throw in five extra silvers when we leave."
The woman's strict expression melted away, her face gleaming with instant greed. She motioned to the boy, "Quickfoot, lead our guests inside to the rooms."
As they passed the woman, Zot'r reached into his pouch and tossed a heavy silver coin through the air. The lady caught it with natural grace.
"Our wolves are very picky," the half-orc grunted down at her, "Fresh meat only, or they'll eat the person trying to feed them. If they are treated well, you get another silver when we leave."
The lady pocketed the coin smoothly and nodded, "Noted. It will be taken care of."
As they walked through the front doors of the inn, Maeve leaned down toward Quickfoot and asked, "Why doesn't the market open until midnight?"
The boy grinned up at her, "Why don't you join me this evening when I head down there? You'll see for yourself. It's where the real fun starts."