Thousands upon thousands of werewolves had gathered on the surrounding cliffs and hillsides. Warriors of the Eastern Alliance stood on one side of the valley, while the armies of the Western Kingdom occupied the other.
Today, the ancient Rite of the Moon took precedence over everything.
An elderly werewolf slowly walked into the center of the valley. His once-white fur had long since turned gray with age, yet every Alpha and King present respectfully lowered their heads. He was the oldest living elder in the Southern Argenti Forest.
"The Rite of the Moon has not been invoked for over three hundred years," his aged voice echoed across the silent valley. "According to the laws left behind by our ancestors, no one shall interfere. The victor shall inherit everything belonging to the defeated. The defeated kingdom shall submit without resistance."
He looked toward both sides.
"Do either of you object?"
"I do not," Vikram replied, stepping forward calmly.
