The next morning, I woke to a splitting headache. The northern ale had a much fiercer kick than its taste suggested.
"Luna, you're awake?" Ulf's voice sounded from outside the door. "We should get ready to leave."
Clutching my head, I stumbled out of the cabin. Our warhorses had been well-fed by the villagers and were snorting with renewed vigor. The party was assembled, ready to depart from Creek Valley Village.
Just as I was dizzily looking for some water, a hard leather waterskin was suddenly thrust in front of me.
"Drink some water. Sober up."
It was Kaelen. He still had his usual icy demeanor, but the gesture left me feeling surprisingly flattered.
I quickly took the waterskin and chugged several large gulps of the cool spring water, which made me feel a little better. I saw Rosalind, not far away, glaring at me with eyes that could have started a fire.
I discreetly tugged on Ulf's sleeve.
"What… what happened last night?" I asked in a low voice. "I don't remember anything."
A strange expression, a mix of wanting to laugh and not daring to, crossed Ulf's face. "You… you got drunk, and the Alpha personally helped you back to your room."
My face flushed crimson, all the way to the roots of my hair. What blasphemous things had I said to him?
The party bid farewell to Creek Valley Village and continued eastward. That afternoon, we reached the eastern outpost on the edge of the Black Forest.
The army of the Grey Wolf tribe was stationed here. Their commander was Clara's brother, Gavin, who was already waiting at the outpost gate with several of his officers.
"Lord Kaelen," Gavin stepped forward and bowed. "Welcome to the eastern front."
"What's the situation?" Kaelen ignored the pleasantries and asked coldly.
"What else can it be? A bunch of mindless walking corpses," Gavin shrugged, a hint of contempt in his voice. "Besides the walking 'zombies,' we've also encountered some riding cursed warhorses. So, my men have given them a name: 'Ghoul-Wolf Knights'."
"Lord Alpha, our scouts have confirmed that all the monsters seem to be crawling out of that cursed place, the Wailing Canyon. But rest assured, with the Grey Wolf tribe guarding here, not a single one of them will get past our lines."
"Is that so?" Kaelen's tone was laced with sarcasm. "Then how is it that I heard two of the Grey Wolf tribe's scouts also went missing in the forest a few days ago?"
Gavin's face stiffened. "That… that was just an accident! I've already sent more men."
"I need supplies," Kaelen said, cutting to the chase. "And I need an elite team to accompany me into the Wailing Canyon."
"Of course!" Gavin readily agreed, but his eyes darted around. "However, Lord Alpha, the canyon is extremely dangerous. Bringing… this Lady Luna with you might be inconvenient. Perhaps…"
"My Luna will be protected by me," Kaelen cut him off coldly. "You just need to send your men."
Having been publicly rebuffed, a flash of resentment crossed Gavin's face, but he quickly concealed it. He hesitated, clearly unwilling to send his best troops, but not daring to openly defy Kaelen's command. In the end, he summoned a tall, sharp-eyed werewolf officer.
"Ethan," Gavin commanded, "take a team and accompany the Lord Alpha into the Wailing Canyon."
"Yes, Commander," the werewolf named Ethan replied crisply.
While Kaelen, Drake, and Ulf went to inspect the supplies, Gavin finally found an opportunity to hurry over to Rosalind.
The stern expression of a military commander vanished from his face, replaced by a fawning smile.
"Lady Rosalind," his voice softened considerably, "you must be tired from your journey. I have prepared the best tent and hot water for you. There's also a special roast for you tonight…"
Rosalind just nodded haughtily, basking in his attention, but her gaze was fixed on Kaelen's retreating back.
I stood not far away, taking it all in.
After we were resupplied, we left the outpost and re-entered the Black Forest. To take a shortcut to the Wailing Canyon, we had to pass through Creek Valley Village again.
I had thought that seeing the simple, warm village again would be a pleasant experience.
I was wrong.
When we followed the familiar forest path back to the valley, we were met not with laughter and cheer, but with a chilling, dead silence.
In the pens outside the village, all the horses and livestock were gone.
The doors and windows of all the houses in the village were wide open. The bonfire we had sat around two nights ago was long extinguished, leaving only a pile of cold ash. Half-eaten food still sat on the tables.
But there was not a single person in the village.
"What happened?" Rosalind's voice trembled. "Where are the people? Where did they all go?"
"Stay alert!" Kaelen's voice was low and grim. He drew his longsword. Drake, Ulf, and Ethan immediately formed a defensive circle around us.
We cautiously entered the village, checking each cabin.
"No signs of a struggle," Drake said, emerging from a house and shaking his head. "No blood either."
"The weapons are still here," Ulf returned, his face pale. "Their bows and hunting knives are still hanging on the walls."
"This is impossible," Ethan frowned. "If they were attacked, it's impossible that they wouldn't have had a chance to fight back. Unless…"
He didn't finish, but we all understood. Unless what took them was a force they couldn't possibly resist.
I instinctively walked towards Heidi's house. The little one-eyed wolf-girl who had held my hand and curiously asked me about the South just two nights ago. Her room was neat and tidy. Her small practice bow was still on the bed. But she, and her family, had vanished into thin air.
A great fear seized each of us. Rosalind subconsciously moved closer to me. Even the usually stern Captain Ethan silently shielded Rosalind and me with his large frame.
"It was us," Kaelen's voice broke the silence. His face was exceptionally grim, his lightless eyes filled with self-blame and anger.
He knew. It was our arrival that night that had acted as a deathly signpost, guiding the monsters from the Wailing Canyon to this place.
Just then, Ulf let out a cry of horror and disgust.
"Lord Alpha! Look over here!"
We immediately followed the sound. In the center of the village square, where we had held the bonfire, was a black rune we had never seen before! It was massive and eerie, drawn in blood.
The rune's pattern was twisted and evil, like some ancient demonic summoning circle. Its main body was shaped like an open, bony hand, the five "fingers" coiling like snakes and converging on an open eye in the center. In the center of the bloody eye were the charred remains of villagers' clothing and some gnawed bone fragments.
There were no complete bodies. It was as if the flesh and blood of all the villagers had been used to draw this evil sigil.
Rosalind let out a nauseated cry and covered her mouth. I felt my own stomach turn.
"No…" Kaelen knelt, picking up a bit of the dried blood from the edge of the sigil. His voice was terrifyingly cold. "There's no stench of decay from the monsters in this blood. This is… this is pure werewolf blood."
He looked up and said something that sent a chill down everyone's spine.
"This wasn't a slaughter. It was… a sacrifice."
The discovery was more terrifying than any monster attack. They weren't hunting; they were… converting.
"Go," Kaelen stood, his voice hoarse as he gave the command. "Leave this place immediately. To the Wailing Canyon."
We were all silent as we fled the village that had become a sacrificial altar.
I looked back one last time. The blood-red rune was like the eye of a devil, mocking us.
After a day and a night of hard riding, we finally reached the rockfall slope at the edge of the Wailing Canyon just before sunset.
The horses could go no further. They pawed the ground restlessly, refusing to approach the canyon that reeked of death.
"Everyone dismount. We proceed on foot," Kaelen ordered. "Ethan, your men will guard the horses and supplies."
We spent that night in silence and fear.
The tragedy of Creek Valley Village weighed on us like a great stone. No one spoke. Ulf and a few of the younger guards sat with their backs to the fire, their suppressed sobs occasionally breaking the silence. Rosalind hugged her knees, sitting as far from the fire as possible, her usually proud face now showing confusion and fear for the first time. Even seasoned warriors like Ethan and Drake just silently polished their weapons over and over.
Kaelen stood alone in the shadows at the edge of the camp, a cold statue.
I was terrified. The image of Heidi's bright black eye and the bloody rune intertwined in my mind, creating a nightmare I couldn't wake from.
Just as I was huddled in my furs, shivering from the cold, a black figure sat down beside me.
It was Kaelen.
"Can't sleep?" his voice was hoarse.
I nodded.
"Scared?"
I nodded again.
He was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Your 'Moon Shadow's Sting.' Take it out."
I was stunned, not understanding, but I unfastened the dagger Liam had given me from my waist.
He took it, flicking the cold blade with his finger, which produced a clear ringing sound.
"Ordinary steel is useless against them," he said, staring at the dancing flames, his voice low. "You saw it in the fight that night. Their bones are harder than rock."
He paused, his gaze shifting to the "Moon Shadow's Sting" in my hand.
"But this… might be different. Liam's ideas are sometimes fanciful, but not entirely without merit."
He picked up a stick and drew a human-like figure in the dirt.
"Their weakness is not the heart," he said, pointing the tip of the stick to the figure's throat. "It's here, at the joint of the neck bones. A hard thrust can break their heads off."
Then, his stick moved slowly upwards, finally stopping at the figure's head.
"But the most effective is here," he said, pointing to the eyes. "The eye sockets. They don't have a real brain. What drives them is a soul-fire imprisoned in their skulls. If I'm not mistaken, this 'Moon Shadow's Sting' can kill them directly."
He looked up, his lightless eyes, for the first time, focused on me with an intense concentration.
"If… and I mean if, you are pushed to the brink, aim for these two places."
He returned the "Moon Shadow's Sting" to me, adding one last instruction. "Tomorrow, stick close to Ulf. No matter what happens, don't leave his side."
He stood, ready to return to his shadows.
"Kaelen," I called out to him.
He stopped.
"Thank you."
He didn't answer, just paused for a moment, then disappeared into the darkness.
The next evening, we finally arrived at the Wailing Canyon.
Not a blade of grass grew here. The wind howled through the canyon, a mournful sound like the cries of countless tormented souls on an ancient battlefield, which was how the canyon had gotten its name.
At the entrance to the canyon stood an ancient stone tablet, broken in the middle. The tablet was carved with twisted, faded runes that looked like some kind of ancient seal. But now, the seal was broken.
While the others were searching for clues, I looked at the runes and felt a strange sense of familiarity.
These characters… they were almost identical to the patterns on the silver comb my mother had left me.
I uncontrollably reached out and touched the cold stone. A word slipped from my lips, unbidden: "…Rest… in… peace…"
"You can read what's on this?"
Rosalind's voice, tinged with scrutiny and surprise, sounded beside me.
"I'm not sure," I said, pulling my hand back and hiding my shock. "It's just… these symbols feel familiar, as if I've seen them somewhere before."
"Familiar?" Rosalind's brow furrowed, her expression becoming extremely complicated. "These are 'Sealing Runes' from the ancient times. It's said that only those of the noblest priest bloodline can read them. How could you…"
She didn't finish, but her question was my question as well.
Just then, the howling wind in the canyon suddenly stopped.
A dead silence fell around us. It was so quiet we could hear our own suppressed heartbeats.
"Something's wrong," Kaelen's voice was low and full of warning.
Before he could finish, pairs of blood-red eyes suddenly lit up on the canyon walls on both sides!
Countless "Ghoul-Wolf Knights" emerged from the mist and shadows, completely surrounding us!
Their bodies were still hung with rotting flesh, like zombies that had crawled out of their graves.
And at the very front of the horde, a slightly smaller Ghoul-Wolf Knight was staring at us with its single, burning red eye.
Ulf let out a cry of agony.
"Heidi…"
We all recognized her—the one-eyed little wolf-girl, Heidi, who had been laughing by the bonfire just two days ago