My Moonlit Declaration

Chapter2：Snow Moon Clan

The symbols were glowing—faint, silvery-white light seeping out from within the stone.

“This is the territory of the Snow Moon Clan,” Herman said as he walked up to the stone wall. “The wall in front of you is the Holy Stone that connects the ‘human’ and ‘wolf’ realms.”

He placed his hand against the stone wall. Silvery-white light spread outward from his palm in all directions.

He began to chant a spell, low and continuous. Elara couldn’t make out the words, but she heard a resonant hum rising at the same time, as if something enormous was awakening deep underground.

The stone wall slowly split open, as though an invisible force had pushed apart two massive stone doors.

The c***k grew wider, revealing a narrow passage. Inside, it was pitch black—like the throat of an abyss.

“Follow me,” the teacher said, lowering his hand. His cloak fluttered in the morning breeze. “This leads to the Snow Moon Clan’s settlement. We’ll go to the Wizard Hall first.”

He stepped into the darkness ahead of her.

Elara stood in front of the stone wall, watching the c***k and the milky-white cloak of Herman gradually being swallowed by the blackness.

She took a deep breath and carefully walked into the fissure, her heart filled with nervousness and anticipation.

The passage was so dark it felt as if her eyes had been covered. Elara stretched out both hands, groping forward.

She couldn’t see Herman, but she knew the teacher was right ahead. The copper bells tinkled softly in the darkness—one deep tone and three clear ones—ding-ding-dang-dang, as if guiding her way.

She didn’t know how long they had been walking. The darkness made time feel thick and viscous, as if every step Elara took was sinking into mud.

Then, a speck of light appeared ahead. It poured in from the end of the passage, dyeing Herman’s milky-white cloak a hazy gray-blue.

Elara quickened her pace and almost ran out of the tunnel.

Before her eyes was an enormous cavern—or rather, an entire mountain hollowed out, leaving a space large enough to hold a whole town. The ceiling was a vast rocky dome embedded with countless glittering gemstones, like a starry sky pressed overhead.

Underfoot lay wide, smooth stone roads—broad enough for four carriages to run side by side. On both sides of the road stood houses built from massive stones, lined up one after another. Some were low and modest, others tall and imposing; the tallest rose seven or eight stories high, with pointed roofs topped by a flagpole. Each flag bore the embroidery of a silver-white crescent moon.

Farther away, even more houses stretched into the unseen distance.

This was—a city built inside a mountain.

The air here carried a faint, crisp scent, clean and cool, with a hint of sweetness.

“Holy Wizard!”

A voice came from the left. Elara turned sharply.

A squad of soldiers stood to the left of the passage entrance. They had human bodies but wolf heads.

Gray fur, upright ears, yellow eyes, wearing leather armor and gripping long spears whose tips glinted coldly under the starlight above.

They were a squad of wolf-headed, human-bodied soldiers.

She had never seen such werewolves—half human, half wolf.

“Holy Wizard! Welcome back—”

The leading soldier shouted, his voice resonant. Then all the soldiers performed the Snow Moon Clan’s unique “Moon Glory Salute” in perfect unison: they stepped in place, pointed their spears toward the moon, clenched their right fists against their chests, and shook them up and down—once, twice, three times—

“Zhora—Zhora—” Everyone chanted the word in unison, like singing an ancient war song.

The sound traveled far. Soon the entire tribe echoed with “Zhora—Zhora—”

The deafening noise made Elara instinctively cover her ears. “Teacher—” she shouted, but her voice was swallowed up. “Teacher! They—they—”

Herman did not turn around. He walked forward with calm composure, his cloak billowing in the wind. The tinkling of his copper bells was completely drowned out by the thunderous “Zhora—Zhora—”

“Follow me. I’ll take you to the Wizard Hall,” his voice was not loud, yet Elara heard it clearly. “First, we’ll awaken your Snow Moon Clan bloodline. Then you need to rest and conserve your energy. Tonight’s Full Moon Ceremony is very important for you!”

Herman’s strides were long and swift. His back revealed an urgency that was hard to describe.

On the wide stone road, soldiers on both sides stared at her and whispered among themselves.

Elara kept her head down, not daring to meet their eyes, but she could feel their gazes piercing her like needles.

“Is she human or wolf?” someone whispered behind her.

The voice wasn’t loud, but the wolf clan’s ears were too sharp—she heard every word clearly.

“I can only smell a tiny bit of wolf scent on her.”

“The Holy Wizard is taking her to the Wizard Hall?”

“I just heard her call the Holy Wizard ‘teacher’?”

More voices surged forward. The sides of the road were now crowded with people—not soldiers, but ordinary clansfolk: men, women, and children.

They wore all kinds of clothing—long robes, short jackets, leather armor, or simply a piece of animal hide wrapped around them. Their faces were human, but their ears were pointed, and their eyes came in every color: silver-white, golden, amber, emerald green.

Everyone was looking at her—this stranger who seemed neither fully human nor fully wolf. Questioning voices came from all directions.

Elara’s face began to burn. It reminded her of the days she had begged on the streets, when passersby looked at her the same way—with disgust, curiosity, contempt, and pity—all kinds of gazes.

She lowered her head, staring fixedly at the hem of the teacher’s cloak, and followed closely behind him.

“Welcome, our clanswoman.”

An aged voice rang out from ahead, silencing all the murmurs.

Elara lifted her head and looked toward the sound. A white-haired elder stood at the entrance of a grand hall. The hall was taller and more imposing than any building she had seen along the way. Two stone pillars flanked the doorway, carved with intricate totems.

The elder’s eyes were amber-colored, like two gemstones polished for a thousand years—deep and wise. His gaze seemed capable of seeing straight through Elara’s heart. He wore a gray robe and held a black ebony staff, its head carved with a wolf howling at the sky.

“This is the Wizard Hall. Follow Grand Elder Quinn inside.”

Before Elara could react, a powerful force shoved her from behind, as if someone had slapped her squarely on the back with an open palm.

She stumbled forward several steps before finally steadying herself right in front of the Grand Elder.

She turned around in shock, only to find that Teacher Herman had already left.

His milky-white cloak had vanished into the crowd, and the sound of the copper bells grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared completely.

“G-Grand Elder,” she heard her own voice trembling. “I… I’m here to participate in the Full Moon Ceremony.”

The Grand Elder’s imposing presence filled her with nervousness and unease, making her stutter.

The Grand Elder looked at her. Those amber eyes lingered on her face for a long time—so long that she felt as if he could see right through her. Only then did he nod slightly, the corners of his lips curving upward.

“Very good,” he finally spoke. His voice was old yet warm, like charcoal fire in winter. “From today onward, you will officially become a member of the Snow Moon Clan.”

The Grand Elder extended his hand. It was thin, with prominent knuckles and skin covered in age spots. “Tonight’s Full Moon Ceremony is the most important ritual of the Snow Moon Clan,” he said, a faint smile forming at the corners of his mouth. “Now, come with me.”

The Wizard Hall was far larger than she had imagined.

Its dome rose so high it was impossible to see the top. The crystal stones embedded in it emitted a soft white glow. The floor was paved with massive cyan stone slabs arranged in a huge circle, the gaps between them filled with something glittering and golden. In the very center of the hall stood a low stone platform, reaching only to her knees. Its surface was polished smooth and gave off a dull, dark luster.

The air carried a medicinal scent. Elara couldn’t quite identify the herbs; it was as if hundreds of different grasses had been boiled together and left to age for decades—a heavy, rich aroma that refused to dissipate.

The Grand Elder walked ahead, his black ebony staff tapping against the stone slabs: tap, tap, tap. The sound echoed throughout the hall.

“Grand Elder, Teacher Herman, he—”

“In the Snow Moon Clan, you must call him Holy Elder,” the Grand Elder said without turning around, his voice drifting back from the front. “He is the Holy Elder of the Snow Moon Clan, not a teacher from the human world.”

Elara remembered how the soldiers had called him “Holy Wizard.”

She remembered the clanspeople whispering “Holy Wizard.”

She remembered the four copper bells at his waist—one large and three small—the deep purple starlight silk ribbon on his forehead, and the staff in his hand. No, it wasn’t a purple fir wood staff—it was a wolf-skull bone staff.