Chapter 43: Tonitrum's Proposition

Name:Sanctuary: Safe Haven Author:


Canna retreated to his resting spot in the dungeon, seeking a moment of peace amidst the dimly lit walls. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, mainly focused on Tonitrum's unsettling proposal. He couldn't deny it was a fast track to gathering a large number of souls. As the echoes of the recent battle faded, he summoned Mortem to discuss the dragon's suggestion.

"Master, what do you think of Tonitrum's plan?" Mortem asked, his voice as cold and detached as always.

Canna sighed, feeling the weight of his decision. "I needed another perspective, Mortem. What do you think about gathering souls through war and slaughter?"

Mortem's eyes glowed with an eerie light. "Well, of course, Master. It should bring them eternal happiness knowing that even in their death, they have served their purpose."

Canna's eyes twitched involuntarily. Maybe discussing moral dilemmas with an undead wasn't the best choice. Mortem's outlook was grim and practical, lacking the empathy Canna sought.

As if on cue, Kael approached, a look of concern etched on his face. "Good job there, Canna. If you don't mind, I have a quick question. How long do we have to stay down here before we return to the surface?"

Canna pondered the question, weighing his response. Before he could answer, Mortem interjected, "Once my master is strong enough to face the monsters of this land. My master's noble goal isn't something for your likes to understand."

Canna facepalmed, frustration mounting. Mortem's harsh words, though somewhat accurate, did little to foster camaraderie.

Kael, undeterred, moved closer and sat beside Canna. "Well, do you at least have a plan for what to do once we're out?"

"Of course," Canna replied, determination in his voice. "First, I need to reach the nearest town or kingdom. I'll work there, gain recognition, and climb the social ladder until the king grants me nobility. Then, I'll have my own land."

Kael's eyes widened in disbelief. He fought to keep his face neutral, knowing that any sign of disrespect could provoke Mortem. Taking a deep breath, he spoke carefully. "I don't want to burst your bubble, but things don't work like that here. Maybe in your world, but not here. You're strong, Canna, but you're still naive about the way this world operates.

The moral principles you hold dear don't apply here."

In the two days that followed, Canna and his two companions engaged in extensive discussions and practiced coordinated combat techniques. Canna took care to ensure Mortem and Vorgrim were equipped with suitable weapons and armors, and he immersed himself in honing his proficiency with various weapons and spellcasting.

He also took the opportunity to warn Kael and Grimruk about the risks involved, emphasizing that Tonitrum would determine their fate if they didn't return. Grimruk expressed interest in joining, but Vorgrim sternly rejected him.

"This is a trial for my liege and his forces. Outsiders are not permitted," Vorgrim stated icily, resuming his sword drills. Grimruk wanted to argue, but he knew Vorgrim spoke the truth. He needed to make a swift decision.

On the last five hours, Canna decided to rest. His resolve was firm, and he was committed to seeing his plan through to the end. He had a goal to achieve, and he was prepared to overcome any obstacle in his path

___________

Then the time arrived. Canna's eyes blazed with determination as he woke from his rest, his resolve unwavering.

He summoned Mortem, clad in a dark purple robe adorned with intricate skull designs. Mortem gripped a staff crowned with a bird's head, exuding an aura of darkness. On the other hand, Vorgrim appeared as if the God of War himself had descended.

Armed with multiple weapons strapped to his back and adorned with a helmet sporting fearsome horns, Vorgrim struck a formidable figure that instilled dread in any who looked at him.

Lastly, Canna donned his armor, a departure from his usual attire of a simple white cloth shirt.

His new armor was lightweight yet durable, allowing him unrestricted movement. Strapped to his legs were daggers, complementing the scythe he wielded with practiced skill. With each adjustment, Canna felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Canna inhales deeply and gazes at Tonitrum.

"Send me in"