Nestled in the lush, forested valley north of Kyoto, Kibune exuded an ethereal charm that had captivated travelers for centuries. The area was famed for its towering cedar trees, moss-covered rocks, and the gentle flow of the Kibune River, which wound its way through the village like a lifeline. The air was perpetually cool and refreshing, carrying the faint, comforting scent of earth and rain even on the warmest days. At dusk, lanterns lit the narrow paths, casting a soft glow that transformed the landscape into an almost otherworldly realm. In Kibune, time seemed to slow, the modern world's chaos a distant murmur beneath the natural splendor.
Kibune lay only a short journey from Kurama, separated by a picturesque mountain trail that meandered through dense woods. The well-trodden Kurama-Kibune hiking route, which took about an hour on foot, led travelers through serene forests alive with the chirps of birds and the rustling of leaves. Along the way, small shrines and weathered statues attested to the spiritual energy that had long permeated the area. For visitors arriving from Kyoto, a scenic ride on the Eizan Railway to Kibuneguchi Station—followed by a leisurely walk or a brief bus ride—revealed the heart of this enchanting village. The proximity to both Kurama and Kyoto made Kibune a hidden gem, a sanctuary for those in search of solace and a deep connection with nature.
Among werewolves, however, Kibune was known by another name: the domain of the Wind Pack. This ancient pack, long revered not for brute force but for its extraordinary gifts, was believed to have been personally blessed by the Moon Goddess. The Wind Pack's wolves possessed unparalleled healing abilities and the power of foresight—gifts reminiscent of the shamans of old. Such abilities rendered them invaluable to their kin; they were keepers of life and wisdom, healers of both body and soul.
The legacy of the Wind Pack was inextricably linked to its most cherished members: the Salutaries. These blessed wolves could mend wounds thought irreparable and foresee calamities before they struck. Their role was nothing short of sacred. Even during the tumultuous days of the Great War, when many of their fiercest warriors had perished, the Wind Pack's status remained unassailable. Neighboring packs, aware of the value of true healers in both peace and conflict, rallied to protect them.
The territory of the Wind Pack mirrored their nature—tranquil yet enigmatic. The surrounding forests pulsed with vitality, as if imbued with the very life-giving energy of the pack. Deep within the woods, their dens were hidden by layers of natural barriers and subtle enchantments that kept unwelcome visitors at bay. Crystal-clear streams wound through their land, believed to carry the Moon Goddess's blessings and reinforcing the sanctity of this sacred ground.
Yet, despite their ancient reverence, the Wind Pack had grown boastful in recent years. What was once a humble gift of healing had become a tool of power. Their art of healing, once practiced with modesty, was now twisted to preserve their dominance. As their sacred gift began to wane, so too did their influence. Desperation seeped into their ranks. The Wind Pack, once content in their role as healers, now schemed desperately to cling to their dwindling power. The balance of authority had shifted; where they were once revered, they now leveraged their remaining abilities to keep rivals at bay. Kibune, once a serene sanctuary for those in need, now buzzed with an undercurrent of tension. The Wind Pack was no longer solely a source of wisdom and healing—they had become a force desperate to hold on to a fading past.
A widely known secret, whispered cautiously among the packs, now began to surface. The Wind Pack still possessed a trump card—a relic of their former glory—but the cracks in their once-impenetrable facade were becoming evident. Among the Salutaries, not one member was younger than 150 years old, placing them in the same generation as Hizuki Kagerou—or even older. The secret was thus: no true Salutary had been born since the curse. The younger wolves, despite their noble lineage and the Moon Goddess's lingering favor, possessed only modest healing abilities. They could mend minor wounds and ease simple ailments, yet their powers paled in comparison to the miracles performed by their ancestors. It was as if the Moon's blessing had slowly slipped away, leaving behind only echoes of what had once been.
At the forefront of this legacy stood Rina Ookaze, the eldest of the Salutaries and the current leader. Approaching three centuries in age, Rina's very presence commanded respect. Her abilities were the stuff of legend—she could heal wounds that others deemed fatal, mend fractured bones with a mere touch, and soothe even the most tormented souls. Yet even Rina could not halt the slow decay of her pack's legacy.
Recently, Rina had left Kibune for the neighboring Shadow Wolf Pack, summoned by the urgent need to tend to Izumi Kagerou, the niece of Hizuki Kagerou. Izumi, though formidable, had suffered injuries that defied treatment by other healers. Her body, overwhelmed by the immense power coursing through it, could only hope for recovery under Rina's skilled care. For the Wind Pack, this alliance was a double-edged sword—it meant that the Shadow Wolf Pack now owed them a debt, a fact they flaunted as proof of their enduring relevance.
Aware of the precarious state of their influence, the Wind Pack's leaders grew desperate. The ancient pack, once a pillar of strength, now resorted to scheming to preserve what little power remained. They boasted of their alliance with the Shadow Wolf Pack, using it to mask the reality of their decline. In secret, the Alpha of the Wind Pack had extended covert invitations to Alphas from across the land. Under the guise of unveiling their Salutaries' research on a prevalent illness—an ailment that ravaged the bodies of the younger generation, unable to contain the power within their blood—the Alpha sought to fabricate an alliance with the Shadow Wolf Pack. To further solidify this ruse, he ensured that the presence of their precious princess from the neighboring domain, along with a special guest, was highlighted. This elaborate charade was intended to silence growing whispers about their faltering legacy. The once-revered healers of Kibune now trod a razor's edge, their future as uncertain as the fading light of a cloudy moon.
At the heart of the Wind Pack's territory stood a vast traditional house, its grand design rivaling even the famed Kageōden. This pack house, the residence of the Alpha, was not an exclusive haven but a communal stronghold. Within its ancient walls lived other officials, their families, and key figures of the pack—a symbol of authority and unity whose elegance and strength permeated every room.
In one such room—the great study—a man of stoic bearing awaited news. A figure reminiscent of ancient samurai, Akechi Ookaze, the Alpha of the Wind Pack, stood there. His long, jet-black hair was tied into a neat topknot, with cascading strands that spoke of both discipline and noble heritage. Clad in a simple yet elegant black hakama, his posture was rigid and controlled, the very image of a warrior devoted to strength and dignity. Though his face was sharp and stern, there was an almost imperceptible tension around his eyes, as if the weight of responsibility pressed upon him. His dark gaze never left the door, his thoughts fixed on the outcome of the gathering he had orchestrated.
"Alpha…" A soft voice called from the threshold, breaking his silence.
A servant knocked lightly, and Akechi immediately stood, his anxiety evident as he turned to face her. "How is it? Are they settled?" His voice was low and composed, though his stance betrayed his inner unease.
"Yes, Alpha. All the other Alphas have been ushered into their rooms. They are resting until dinner tonight," the servant replied respectfully, bowing as she passed.
Akechi nodded, though his mind was far afield—each movement, every conversation, was part of a larger plan. The balance of power, the strength of alliances, all hinged on tonight's gathering. The fate of the Wind Pack, and perhaps the future of their sacred legacy, rested on the decisions made in this room.