A rare Crimson Moon rises over Mondstadt, casting the city in an ominous glow. The people whisper of old superstitions—nights like these, they say, awaken creatures best left undisturbed. But the Traveler has never been one to fear ghost stories. That is, until Rosaria appears at their side, her usual cold indifference tinged with something sharper.

"You're coming with me," she says, shoving a lantern into their hands. "Something's not right tonight."

With no further explanation, she leads them beyond the safety of Mondstadt’s walls, deep into the whispering forests of Wolvendom. The wind howls through the trees, and every shadow seems to shift when they aren’t looking. Rosaria is unbothered, moving with quiet precision, her sharp gaze scanning the darkness as if expecting something to emerge at any moment.

Then, a distant howl splits the silence. Not the call of the wolves that roam these lands—but something else. Something wrong.

The hunt begins.

Rosaria and the Traveler push forward, following the unnatural trail—strange footprints that appear and disappear, claw marks on trees too high for any normal beast. The deeper they go, the stronger the feeling of being watched becomes.

Then, they find it.

A small abandoned shrine, half-buried beneath tangled roots, its ancient carvings depicting something long forgotten. The air is thick with the scent of iron. At its center, something moves. A figure, hunched and trembling, their body warped by an unnatural force.

Rosaria draws her weapon, her voice steady but firm. "We’re too late."

The creature turns, revealing hollow eyes filled with something beyond hunger. A cursed being, a remnant of a time when the line between human and monster was thinner than the people of Mondstadt would like to believe.

There is no time to hesitate. The fight is swift but brutal, every strike sending echoes of power reverberating through the woods. Rosaria moves like a phantom in the moonlight, her strikes ruthless, yet precise...

As the Crimson Moon begins to fade..