Sanctuary: Safe Haven

The battlefield was quiet now. The distant noises of crashing waves of monsters against the mighty earth dome were muffled, leaving only the sound of the wind and the crackling embers from some still-burning corpses. Inside the dome, the exhausted warriors of the sanctuary lay sprawled across the ground, their breath heavy, but the healing pores from Sylvanar's towering trees provided much-needed relief. It was a fleeting moment of warmth and peace amidst the chaos they had endured for so long.

Each one of the sanctuary's guardians had given everything, and now, with Sylvanar's protective magic, it was time for them to rest. The warriors began to make their way back, some limping, others being carried by the direwolves. No one was unscathed. Their armor was shattered, their bodies broken, but they were alive. As they passed through the portal back to the sanctuary, they didn't even cheer—they were simply too tired.

Canna, dead exhausted himself, slumped against a tree. His strength, which had seemed limitless during the battle, was finally fading. His Bloodfang Scythe, which had granted him such godlike power from the endless blood of fallen enemies, had stopped feeding. Now, his stamina was drained, and the mental fatigue of fighting for days without rest finally caught up with him.

Perched on Canna's head, Noctis, ever his watchful companion, chirped softly. "Master, the warriors and guardians are making their way back to the sanctuary. You should too. You've been fighting non-stop for countless days, and no offense, but you reek of blood... I could smell it from a kilometer away."

Canna chuckled weakly, his body barely holding up anymore. "Noctis... make an announcement. Everyone must rest. No training, no sparring, nothing. They need to recover, as we might have to fight again soon. If the dome holds for seven days, we'll fight after that... but if catastrophe-class monsters come crashing in, we may not have that luxury."

"Affirmative, master." Noctis closed his eyes and immediately relayed the message through his clones, spreading the order across the sanctuary. The warriors, though battered and broken, couldn't help but smile at the thought of rest. Some even cried tears of relief, too drained to express their joy in any other way. Sylvanar's vines and the direwolves helped carry those too weak to walk on their own.

In the silence that followed, only Canna, Vorgrim, Mortem, and Noctis remained on the battlefield. Mortem, ever the dutiful necromancer, had begun collecting mana cores from the endless piles of slain monsters. But even for him, it was an overwhelming task—there were simply too many. Millions of monsters lay dead at their feet, their energy waiting to be harvested.

Suddenly, Canna's attention was drawn by a strange sound. He turned to see a dog-like creature, its back alight with small flames, gnawing on the remains of a fallen beast.

"Noctis, what is that?" Canna asked, his curiosity piqued.

Noctis glanced over and smirked. "Oh, that? It's one of the hellhounds. A demon beast, master."

"Demon beast? Since when do we have hellhounds in the sanctuary?" Canna tilted his head, surprised.

"You've been gone for a while, master," Noctis replied. "While you were out in the forbidden lands and fighting non-stop here, a new trend started in the sanctuary."
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Canna sat up, his interest growing. "A trend, huh? Go on, tell me about it."

And so, Noctis retold the story of the sanctuary's progress in demon summoning. He explained how warriors had started summoning different kinds of beasts from the realm of Hell, using mana cores, monster corpses, and blood to bind the demon creatures to their will. Hellhounds, hell serpents, and other creatures were now common companions to the sanctuary's forces, aiding them in battle.

Canna listened intently, fascinated by the idea of summoning creatures from another realm. The mere thought of it made his blood stir with excitement. The sanctuary had evolved in ways he hadn't even imagined while he was gone.

The dome that surrounded them cast the battlefield in darkness, blocking out the moon and stars. Only the soft glow of Sylvanar's enchanted trees provided light, bathing the scene in an otherworldly glow. From beyond the dome, the dull thuds of monsters crashing against it could be heard—an ominous reminder that their respite was temporary.

"Noctis," Canna interrupted suddenly, "I want to summon a demon beast too. Hellhound, hell serpent... it doesn't matter. Bring me the ritual."

Noctis blinked, startled. "Master, I don't think you should do that right now. There are important things Brasis wanted to—"

"Just bring it to me," Canna insisted, standing up slowly, his eyes gleaming with determination.

Without further protest, Noctis nodded and opened a portal back to the sanctuary. A few moments later, he returned, holding a parchment in his beak, which he dropped at Canna's feet.

"Master, this is the chant and the process for summoning. Brasis, the head researcher, said he'd come to explain some things before you start..."

But Canna wasn't listening. His eyes were already fixed on the parchment, reading the summoning spell. "So... mana cores, monster corpses, blood, and my own mana. Simple enough."

He began to chant, ignoring Noctis' warnings. His voice echoed through the still air as he recited the incantation:

*"From the abyss where nightmares dwell,

By my will, I command and compel.

Ancient fiend, break your chains,

Rise through fire, ice, and endless pains.

I invoke the curse of the blackened sky,

Bound by oath, you cannot deny.

Through shadow and flame, through blood and bone,

Answer my call, come claim your throne.

Consume the void, rend the veil,

Demon of chaos, arise and prevail!

As my offering, take all these monsters' corpses,

Their mana cores, their blood, my mana!"*

The moment Canna finished the chant, the air around him shifted. A dark, swirling energy began to form. All the monster corpses littering the ground started to rise, lifted by an unseen force. The mana cores, blood, and bodies of the fallen monsters spiraled into a series of dark tornadoes, growing larger and more menacing with each passing second.

Mana surged out of Canna's body, draining him rapidly as the summoning ritual intensified. From the corner of his eye, he saw Brasis appear, panic written across his face.

"NOOOOO!" Brasis screamed, running toward Canna. "STOP! SUMMON THE GUARDIANS, ANYONE! NOOO!"

But it was too late. The world around Canna went dark as the summoning reached its apex, pulling him into an unknown abyss.