The Wolf Riders

Rowan had been waiting anxiously, and at long last, the mysterious plane finally revealed itself. Unlike the previous plane manifestations, which had been accompanied by earth-shattering phenomena, this one appeared in an almost unassuming manner. A faintly glowing portal quietly emerged in an open clearing, as if it were deliberately trying to avoid attention.

Rowan took a deep breath and, without hesitation, stepped through the portal.

In an instant, his vision blurred as space twisted around him. The next moment, he found himself standing in an unfamiliar world.

He scanned his surroundings and realized he was in a vast mountain range. Towering peaks pierced the sky, jagged cliffs jutted out at odd angles, and thick brambles covered the ground. A thin mist curled around the valleys, giving the place a mysterious yet dangerous aura.

After regaining his composure, Rowan oriented himself and began making his way toward the nearest exit from the mountains.

Days passed as he traversed the rugged terrain, carefully avoiding hazards along the way. Finally, he emerged from the mountain range, sighing in relief. But before he could properly take in the new landscape, a towering figure suddenly appeared before him.

The man was enormous, standing over two meters tall, with a body thick with muscle. He wore simple clothes stitched together from animal hides, his bronze skin gleaming under the sunlight. Long black hair flowed past his shoulders, and his sharp, primal gaze carried an untamed ferocity.

The native warrior studied Rowan for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. Rowan, in comparison, seemed small and frail, and his clothing was unlike anything the warrior had ever seen.

"Where are you from?" the warrior finally asked. "You heading for the blood ritual too?"

Rowan's heart clenched slightly. He didn't know what this so-called blood ritual was, but he sensed that revealing his true identity could be dangerous. Without missing a beat, he nodded and replied, "Yes."

Internally, he sighed in relief—the language of this world was the same as his own. If it weren't, this journey would have been far more troublesome.

The warrior studied him for a moment longer but seemed preoccupied. With one last glance, he turned and strode off in another direction, vanishing into the distance.

Watching the man disappear, Rowan exhaled slowly.

Taking no chances, he immediately used his disguise magic to alter his appearance. His features changed, his attire transformed into something resembling the locals', and his presence blended more seamlessly into this new world.

As he traveled further, he encountered more and more natives.

To gather information and remain inconspicuous, he decided to join a group of travelers heading in the same direction.

During their journey, an elderly man in the group began discussing the blood ritual—exactly the information Rowan was eager to learn about. He listened carefully as the old man spoke.

"This might be our last blood ritual," the elder said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "If we fail to awaken our goddess this time… we may never get another chance."

A young man nearby clenched his fists, his expression tense. "How can that be? Our people have sacrificed generation after generation! We've given so much—how could it all be in vain?"

The elder let out a weary sigh. "Reality is cruel. Hope is fleeting. We've paid countless prices, yet the goddess remains silent. The clan's prophet foretold it—if we fail this time, the goddess will vanish forever."

Rowan took this opportunity to interject. "Elder, what exactly must be done to awaken the goddess? And what happened to her in the first place? Why has she been asleep for so long?"

The old man glanced at Rowan, his eyes flickering with curiosity, but he answered nonetheless.

"It seems you don't know much about our past," he murmured. "Very well. Listen closely—this is the history of our people."

"Long ago, the Dark Moon Goddess led us to glory. Our warriors, the legendary Dark Moon Wolf Riders, were unmatched in battle. Together, we conquered countless planes, and our clan thrived under her divine protection. It was our golden age."

"But then… tragedy struck. The goddess was gravely wounded in battle. Her divine power waned, and she returned to our sacred lands, sealing herself within the temple altar, where she has remained ever since."

"After that, everything changed. The power of our bloodline weakened. Fewer and fewer of our people awakened their ancestral strength. Even those who did… their abilities were but a shadow of what they once were."

"In desperation, our leaders sought a solution. The prophets and elders decreed that every year, ten of our strongest bloodline awakeners must be sacrificed to the altar—to prolong the goddess's existence."

"But the cost was steep. With every sacrifice, our numbers dwindled. Our once-mighty Wolf Riders lost their strength. Our allies, the Howling Silver Wolves, who once fought beside us, abandoned us, retreating into the wilderness. They, too, suffered from the goddess's decline."

"Generations passed, and we continued to hold onto hope, waiting for the goddess to return. But she never did."

A heavy silence fell over the group.

Even though they had all heard this story countless times before, it never failed to fill their hearts with sorrow.

Their people had sacrificed so much, all in the desperate hope of reclaiming their lost glory. Yet that hope grew dimmer with each passing year.

Then, the young man suddenly shouted, his voice filled with determination. "No! This time will be different! I refuse to believe our goddess won't return! She will awaken, and she will lead us back to glory!"

His words, however, were met with silence.

The others simply lowered their heads and kept walking.

A somber, oppressive atmosphere enveloped the group.

Yet, despite the weight of despair, a fragile hope still lingered in their hearts—a hope so faint, so distant, yet impossible to abandon.

And so, step by step, they continued on their path, heading toward what might be their final blood ritual.