Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Canna glanced around the Adventurer's Guild, frustration evident on his face. Even with the extra help the guild had provided, the process of registering all his warriors was slow. Each warrior had to not only sign their registration forms but also declare their class and elemental affinity, a procedure that ate away at time far more than Canna anticipated.

Unable to wait any longer, Canna stood up, his impatience obvious. He glanced over at Mortem, who manifested from his shadow as if sensing his master's growing frustration. "Mortem, I need you to handle things here," Canna said in a calm yet firm tone. "Call Fina, tell her she needs to sign up for the guild as well. Also, inform her that Gil and his sister are invited to join the Hope Clan." Canna paused for a moment, his mind briefly flickering over the faces of those he was beginning to care for in this new world. "That's all. I'm heading out to the Forbidden Lands that Noctis located."

Mortem nodded, his dark, skeletal form bowing slightly. "Understood, Master." Without another word, Mortem vanished into the shadows, off to complete Canna's tasks.

Canna floated upward slightly, his body hovering over the gathered warriors of the Hope Clan. "Here's your mission," he announced, his voice carrying authority. "Complete all the available quests here in the Adventurer's Guild. Once you're done, I'll summon you again."

A chorus of voices rang out in response. "Understood!" The united voice of his warriors echoed throughout the guild hall, a testament to the loyalty and power of the Hope Clan.

Satisfied, Canna's body crackled with energy, his form shimmering and distorting until he transformed into a bolt of lightning. He shot into the sky, blazing across the horizon with a brilliant flash. The Forbidden Lands lay ahead, and though it would take him two weeks of traveling in his lightning bolt form, the sooner he started, the better.

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Meanwhile, back in the sanctuary, the recent developments in demon summoning had spread like wildfire. The demon summoning research had been a complete success, and word had quickly passed to the warriors of the sanctuary. Not only the shock troops but also the general warriors were now taking part in the summoning. To ensure the safety of the process and proper documentation of any new demonic creatures, all summoning rituals were required to take place in the sanctuary's arena.

A long line of sanctuary warriors formed, each eager to summon their own demon beast. The summoning rituals had become a sort of spectacle. The warriors marveled at the variety of demons emerging from the spells. Most of the demons summoned were hell beasts, commonly hell hounds, serpents, and wraiths, but some unique demons began to appear as well.

A few warriors summoned large hellish birds with wings that shimmered with flames, capable of raining fire from the sky. Another group of warriors summoned hell bulls, massive creatures with flaming horns and the ability to charge through any enemy formation. One particularly strong warrior, a human bonded with a direwolf, managed to summon a hellhound that stood twice as tall as a normal wolf, its teeth dripping with molten lava.

For the sanctuary's warriors, these demonic summons were an immense boon. With the sanctuary's recent success in harvesting resources from their hunts, they had more than enough mana cores and monster blood to fuel their summoning rituals. Each warrior, armed with a demonic beast, grew exponentially stronger. Their graduation ceremony was only two weeks away, and with each passing day, they trained harder, determined to master their new demonic companions.

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Meanwhile, far from the sanctuary, deep in the fiery depths of the realm of hell, a new stir was rising. Hell was a land of endless torment, its skies filled with fire, the ground scorched and cracked, releasing bursts of molten lava from beneath. The air itself was suffocating, thick with the stench of burnt flesh and sulfur. This was a realm where only the strongest survived, where power was the only currency, and weakness meant certain death.

In this world of chaos and carnage, a small imp-like demon sprinted frantically across the burning plains. Its tiny legs moved with desperation as it dodged pools of fire and geysers of lava. Its destination was a massive, black throne that stood at the center of a great fortress. Seated upon that throne was a being of immense power—a menacing figure cloaked in shadow, its form radiating dark energy. It was an Archdemon, one of the thirteen rulers of hell, and his black eyes glowed with malevolence as he feasted upon the souls of the damned.

The imp burst into the throne room, trembling as it approached the towering figure. "M-my King!" the imp stammered, its voice shaking with fear. "There are unusual reports, my King! Demons… demons are being summoned in large numbers from your realm! I thought I should report this at once!"

The Archdemon's eyes narrowed, glowing with cold fire. Without a word, he raised one massive hand and, with a flick of his fingers, sent a blazing fireball toward the imp. The small demon barely dodged in time, the fireball missing it by mere inches and exploding behind it.

"Imbecile!" the Archdemon roared, his voice shaking the walls of the fortress. "Get out of my sight!"

The imp scrambled away, whimpering, as the Archdemon leaned back in his throne, his expression dark and contemplative. Despite his outward show of rage, the news intrigued him. Demons being summoned in significant numbers was rare, and while the Archdemon cared little for the affairs of mortals, the sheer scale of the summoning was enough to warrant his attention.

This Archdemon, one of the most powerful beings in hell, was recovering from a recent battle—a war waged among the other Archdemons for dominance over the vast regions of hell. His forces, though powerful, had taken significant losses, but the rewards had been worth it. He had conquered the lands of a fallen rival Archdemon and claimed two of the rival's mightiest subordinates—one, a brilliant strategist known as the "Brains of Hell," and the other, a warrior powerful enough to challenge an Archdemon despite only being a Demon King in rank.

These two captives were currently imprisoned in his fortress, awaiting their fate. Once the Archdemon regained his full strength, they would serve him, whether they wanted to or not. But until then, he would watch, he would wait, and he would grow stronger.

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Back in the sanctuary, the warriors were in the midst of perfecting their summoning rituals. The system was running smoothly, with new demonic creatures added to the sanctuary's ever-growing ranks. The arena buzzed with activity as more and more warriors completed their summoning rituals. The variety of demon beasts summoned continued to surprise everyone, from hellish wolves and serpents to flaming avian creatures and infernal bulls.

Brasis, the former researcher from the Black Thorn who had deciphered the summoning book, was documenting every new creature that appeared. His keen eye noted that the demon beasts seemed to show loyalty only to their summoners, obeying commands with single-minded focus. This, of course, was a major relief. Regular demons, with their arrogant and cunning nature, often tried to break free from their summoner's control. But these demon beasts, while dangerous, were far more obedient.

Meanwhile, in the forbidden lands, Canna raced across the sky, a streak of lightning cutting through the air. The road ahead was long, but with every crackle of energy that surged through his form, he felt the excitement of discovery. Whatever awaited him in the Forbidden Lands would be another step toward solidifying his dominance in Sepra.

The sanctuary was stronger than ever, and soon, the world would know the full power of the Hope Clan.