The first rays of dawn spilled across the Royal Capital.
Golden light washed over its towering walls, marble streets, and silver rooftops.
Yet the beauty of the morning was overshadowed by something far greater.
Expectation.
Excitement.
Hope.
Today...
The young generation of every Order would begin their pilgrimage toward the Lunar Sanctuary.
Not just nobles.
Not just warriors.
But every chosen youth who had earned the Moon's invitation.
...
The eastern district had become a sea of people.
Families lined the streets long before sunrise.
Children perched atop rooftops.
Shopkeepers abandoned their stalls.
Veterans stood shoulder to shoulder with farmers.
Mothers clutched the hands of younger siblings while fathers proudly pointed toward the gathering plaza.
Never before had so many people assembled for a single event.
For this was not merely a tournament.
It was a celebration of every young werewolf who had proven themselves worthy.
...
The enormous eastern plaza could barely contain the gathering.
Hundreds of young competitors stood together beneath fluttering banners.
There were sons and daughters of nobles.
Children of blacksmiths.
Hunters.
Farmers.
Merchants.
Teachers.
Woodcutters.
Some wore elegant uniforms bearing noble crests.
Others wore simple travelling clothes sewn by their own families.
Yet standing together...
No one looked above another.
For beneath the Moon...
Bloodlines meant nothing.
Only one's heart.
...
Nine noble banners stood proudly above the Third Order's delegation.
House Veilbourne.
House Nocturne.
House Velmora.
House Duskryn.
House Umbraxis.
Beside them...
House Valen.
House Ashgrave.
House Frostbane.
House Thorncrest.
Above every banner...
The silver crest of the Third Order fluttered proudly.
Below it stood nearly two hundred young werewolves.
Each one chosen after months of examinations, duels and regional competitions.
Some dreamed of glory.
Others wished only to prove themselves.
All carried the hopes of someone waiting back home.
...
Among them...
Riven quietly adjusted the straps of his travelling pack.
His black tunic bore only the crest of the Third Order.
No medals.
No ornaments.
No special treatment.
Exactly as he preferred.
Beside him...
Nyss stood gazing toward the eastern horizon.
Her silver hair shimmered softly beneath the morning light.
Around them stood familiar faces.
Lyra smiled brightly as she chatted with several girls from common households.
Roran laughed loudly while comparing the size of his axe with another competitor's.
Soren stood silently, eyes closed, seemingly meditating despite the deafening noise around him.
Zoldick lazily stretched his arms.
"I swear..."
"This crowd gets bigger every minute."
Marlis folded his arms.
"You're only noticing now?"
"I've been awake since before sunrise."
"So have I."
"No."
"You've been complaining since before sunrise."
Several nearby competitors burst into laughter.
Even Marlis allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch slightly.
...
Among the crowd...
Many common-born competitors stared curiously toward Riven.
"That's him."
"The one who fought Zoldick."
"I heard he trained under Lord Eryx himself."
"I heard he defeated a High Alpha candidate during the colony battle."
"No way."
"He nearly died."
"So?"
"Still impressive."
Riven scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"I can hear you..."
Several of them laughed nervously.
One young boy stepped forward.
"Can I..."
"...shake your hand?"
Riven blinked.
"...Sure."
The boy's face lit up.
Soon...
Several others gathered around.
Not because he was famous.
But because he had become someone many ordinary young wolves admired.
Someone who had risen through determination.
...
A loud trumpet echoed across the plaza.
The conversations immediately ceased.
Queen Nyxara stepped onto the enormous stone platform overlooking the crowd.
Behind her stood Lady Seraphine.
Lord Vadok Velmora.
Lord Eryx Nocturne.
The heads of every noble house.
Complete silence fell.
Nyxara slowly surveyed the thousands gathered before her.
A faint smile appeared.
"My people."
Her calm voice carried effortlessly across the entire plaza.
"For generations..."
"The Lunar Trials have reminded us of one truth."
She paused.
"The Moon does not ask where you were born."
Her eyes swept across nobles and commoners alike.
"It does not ask your family name."
"It does not ask how wealthy your parents are."
"It asks only one question."
She placed a hand over her heart.
"What kind of soul stands before me?"
Silence.
Every young competitor listened.
"You who stand here today..."
"Have already answered that question."
"You earned your place."
"No one gifted it to you."
"No title purchased it."
"You fought."
"You endured."
"You persevered."
A ripple of pride spread through the assembled youths.
Nyxara smiled.
"Walk proudly."
"For today..."
"You do not represent only yourselves."
"You represent every village..."
"Every family..."
"And every child who dreams of standing where you stand."
Thunderous applause exploded across the plaza.
...
Eryx stepped forward next.
His expression remained calm.
Yet every competitor instinctively straightened.
"The Lunar Sanctuary is unlike anywhere else."
"You will face trials."
"You will experience victory."
"You will experience defeat."
"Some of you will discover strengths you never imagined."
"Others..."
"...will discover weaknesses you never knew existed."
He looked directly at Riven.
Then Nyss.
Then every other competitor.
"Remember this."
"The Sanctuary never lies."
"If your heart falters..."
"The Moon will know."
"If your resolve wavers..."
"The Moon will know."
"But..."
"If your spirit refuses to break..."
"The Moon will know that as well."
He smiled.
"Make your Orders proud."
...
Another trumpet sounded.
The eastern gates slowly opened.
CLANG...
CLANG...
CLANG...
The massive doors revealed an endless road stretching toward distant mountains.
The journey had begun.
...
Before the Third Order moved...
Another procession appeared from the eastern road.
The First Order.
Hundreds of young werewolves marched proudly beneath crimson banners.
At their front...
The heirs of House Drakhar.
Beside them marched the chosen youths of House Vargan.
Surrounding them...
Dozens upon dozens of talented common-born competitors.
Though their uniforms differed...
Every one wore the crimson wolf emblem of the First Order.
Their discipline was absolute.
Not a single step fell out of rhythm.
Watching them...
Several Third Order competitors swallowed nervously.
"They're incredible..."
"They've trained together for years..."
"I heard their selection tournament lasted six months."
"They look terrifying."
Riven simply watched quietly.
So these...
Were the strongest youths of the First.
...
Among them...
One muscular young man noticed Riven staring.
Instead of glaring...
He simply grinned confidently before raising a fist.
A warrior's greeting.
Riven smiled.
He returned it.
No words were needed.
Only mutual respect.
...
Before long...
Silver trumpets echoed across the valley.
The Fourth Order arrived.
Moon-white banners danced elegantly in the wind.
Unlike the disciplined march of the First...
The Fourth moved almost like flowing water.
Graceful.
Perfectly synchronized.
Leading them...
The young heirs of House Astrae.
House Silverfang.
House Nightveil.
House Lunaris.
Beside them walked many common-born competitors wearing identical white travelling cloaks.
No distinction existed between noble and common attire.
Only the Order's crest united them.
Watching from nearby...
Lyra whispered softly,
"They're beautiful..."
"They move like dancers."
Nyss smiled.
"They've always trained differently."
...
Queen Selene walked at the front of her Order.
Beside her...
Caelum maintained his usual calm expression.
When Selene's eyes found Nyss...
Warmth filled her smile.
Nyss smiled back.
To everyone else...
It seemed like nothing more than a queen encouraging one of her participants.
Only the Moon knew otherwise.
...
Soon...
Representatives from every Order filled the enormous road.
Hundreds...
Became thousands.
The sheer scale astonished even seasoned veterans.
This was no gathering of a few champions.
It was the next generation of werewolf society itself.
...
A loud laugh suddenly echoed nearby.
Roran had challenged three common-born competitors to an arm-wrestling contest.
"I'm telling you..."
"Nobody here beats me!"
Seconds later...
SLAM!
His arm struck the table.
He stared in disbelief.
"...Again."
The victor laughed.
"You've said that five times."
Nearby competitors burst into laughter.
Even warriors from the First Order watched with amusement.
...
Elsewhere...
Zoldick had somehow gathered competitors from every Order around him.
"So..."
"Anyone bringing snacks?"
Silence.
Then one girl raised her hand.
"I made dried berry cakes."
Zoldick's eyes sparkled.
"Marry me."
She blinked.
"I'm already engaged."
"Unfortunate."
The entire group erupted into laughter.
Marlis sighed from several meters away.
"Hopeless."
...
As the atmosphere grew livelier...
Old prejudices slowly faded.
Noble heirs shared stories with farmers.
Hunters laughed beside merchants.
Competitors compared training methods.
Boasted about hometown festivals.
Argued over whose Order served the best food.
For perhaps the first time...
Many realized something.
They had far more in common than they had imagined.
...
Finally...
Queen Nyxara raised her hand once more.
"The road awaits."
No dramatic speech followed.
None was needed.
She simply smiled.
"May the Moon guide your steps."
...
The banners rose together.
Crimson.
Silver.
Black.
White.
Hundreds of standards fluttered beneath the morning sky.
The great procession began moving.
The First Order.
The Third Order.
The Fourth Order.
Thousands of young werewolves...
Nobles and commoners alike...
Walked the same road toward the Lunar Sanctuary.
Behind them...
Their families watched until the banners disappeared beyond the hills.
Some smiled proudly.
Others quietly wiped away tears.
No one knew what awaited those young wolves beyond the mountains.
Only one certainty remained.
When they returned...
None of them would be the same.
And somewhere beyond the distant peaks...
Hidden from the eyes of the world...
The ancient silver gates of the Lunar Sanctuary stood open...
Patiently awaiting the arrival of the next generation beneath the eternal gaze of the Moon.