BLOODMOON

Chapter Thirty-Five: Echoes of a Father's Wisdom

As Luca led Lydia, Arvan, and the pack through the outskirts of Rome, the cityscape gradually gave way to the serene beauty of the Italian countryside. Fields stretched to the horizon, and the fragrance of earth and foliage filled the air. The rhythmic symphony of nature provided a stark contrast to the urban bustle left behind.

"We need a place to regroup and plan our next move," Luca explained. "Here, away from prying eyes, we can discuss how to thwart the Lupus Daemonium and protect the dagger."

They followed Luca through meandering paths bordered by olive groves and vineyards, the landscape embracing them with a tranquil embrace. As they arrived at a secluded spot, nestled beneath the shade of ancient trees, Luca motioned for everyone to sit.

"This land has been a refuge for our kind for centuries," Luca shared. "It holds a connection to the roots of our existence and shields us from the chaos of the modern world."

As the group settled on the soft grass, Lydia, Arvan, and the pack felt the calm of the countryside enveloping them. Luca's eyes gleamed with a mixture of determination and concern as he began outlining the challenges ahead.

"Here, amidst the whispers of nature, we'll devise a strategy to thwart the Lupus Daemonium and protect the dagger's sanctity. Our strength lies not only in our abilities but in our unity as Licantropi. Rome's legacy is at stake, and we shall defend it with everything we have."

Sahil's phone abruptly rang, and he hastily excused himself from the conversation. Stepping outside, he answered the call, his expression shifting from casual to intense as he listened to the voice on the other end.

The voice belonged to the leader of the Rakshasas, the Indian Lycans. Sahil's eyes narrowed with concern as the leader conveyed the unexpected news that the Rakshasas, weretigers, and Nāgas wouldn't be joining their fight.

Frustration and anger welled up within Sahil. "Why?" he demanded, his voice sharp with disappointment. The leader on the phone sighed audibly before explaining the complex reasons behind their decision, leaving Sahil grappling with the weight of their absence in the impending battle.

Sahil's temper flared, and he couldn't contain his frustration. "You're a coward and a disgrace to our heritage!" he shouted into the phone, his words dripping with resentment.

The leader remained surprisingly calm in the face of Sahil's outburst. "Sahil, I understand your anger, but we have our own problems," he replied evenly. "This decision is not made lightly, but circumstances beyond our control dictate our actions. We must protect our own."

Sahil clenched his fists, struggling to accept the reality of the situation. The leader's composed response clashed with Sahil's seething emotions, leaving him torn between understanding and the burning desire for unity against a common threat.

The leader's calm demeanor persisted as he suggested, "Sahil, perhaps you should go and explain the situation to Arvan. He might understand the complexities we face."

Sahil shook his head vehemently, refusing the suggestion. "No, telling Arvan will only anger him further. I can't risk that."

The leader's voice softened, "Your father, understanding and wise, would have grasped the challenges we're facing. He always valued unity."

Sahil's anger surged at the mention of his father. "Don't you dare bring my fucking father into this!" he snapped, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and grief. The leader, unfazed, continued to stress the unavoidable reality they all had to confront.

The Rakshasa leader took a measured breath before revealing, "Sahil, I've arranged a meeting with the leader of the weretigers and the Nāgas. We discussed the Lupus Daemonium threat, but they've decided not to intervene. Each faction has its own pressing problems to contend with."