Sanctuary: Safe Haven-Chapter 332: Final Touches

A week had passed since the events with the dark and light elves had been resolved, and life within the sanctuary was bustling with energy. Both elven clans, having reached out to Canna after their lands had been poisoned, sought refuge in the sanctuary in exchange for their allegiance. Their plea was simple: allow them to live in peace, and they would serve Canna without question.

Canna, understanding their plight, had accepted immediately. The Amazon area of his sanctuary was vast and teeming with life, plenty large enough to accommodate both races. Mortem, ever the strategist, had later advised that it was an excellent decision. Not only were the light and dark elves rare races, but they also held significant potential. Despite their depleted numbers from constant warfare, their remaining strength was formidable.

The war between the two races had nearly wiped them out. Each clan had started with over 5000 members, but after months of brutal skirmishes, their populations had dropped to just over 2000. Elves, unlike humans, were slow to reproduce, making the loss even more devastating. Both clans had pledged to put their past behind them, seeing Canna’s sanctuary as a chance to rebuild and thrive.

For the elves, adjusting to life in the sanctuary didn’t take long. The dark elves, with their love for combat and physical prowess, gravitated toward the sanctuary’s warriors. The arena became their second home as they eagerly "talked" with their fists, their sparring matches drawing crowds. Their towering forms, platinum hair, and fierce reputations earned them a place among the warriors quickly.

The light elves, on the other hand, were in awe of the sanctuary’s natural beauty and the abundant mana that flowed through it. They spent their time immersed in study, mingling with the human mages and the other elves in pursuit of magical mastery. Their love for magic and knowledge thrived in the sanctuary, and Canna knew that given enough time, these elves—both light and dark—would become powerhouses in their own right.

In truth, both clans’ greatest warriors were only at the great-transcendent level. But in the sanctuary’s nurturing environment, where warriors trained without limit and magic flowed freely, it was only a matter of time before they reached even higher levels of power.

Meanwhile, the kingdom Canna had raided was largely unremarkable, save for the fact that a noble—the brother of the king—had been running a slavehouse. After removing the children and punishing the noble, Canna left the kingdom alone. There was no reason to dwell on it; his focus remained on preparing the sanctuary for the grand celebration that lay ahead.

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In the Verdant Peaks, nestled in the massive Mountain Metal, the dwarves were holding a meeting in their grand stone hall. Balin, the newly recruited leader of the dwarves, stood in the center of the table, his large hands spread wide as he spoke with excitement.

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"Aye, lads! I’ve been thinkin’. What does a leader like Canna need? A castle! A grand, beautiful castle! A fortress worthy of a man of his stature! We’ve got the metal, the stone, and the finest craftsmen. Let’s build ’im one, and he’ll be singin’ our praises for generations to come!" Balin’s thick accent rolled through the hall like a rumbling avalanche.

The older dwarves around the table exchanged glances, their faces slowly growing serious. For a moment, the room was silent, then suddenly, the hall erupted into laughter. Deep, hearty laughs echoed off the stone walls, and Balin found himself blinking in confusion.

Thrain, the elder of all the dwarves, wiped a tear from his eye and clapped Balin on the back. "A good suggestion, lad. Truly, it’s a fine idea, but there’s just one wee problem."

Balin frowned, still unsure. "And what’s that?"

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Thrain chuckled again. "Canna won’t use it!"

"Won’t use it? Why in the world wouldn’t he use a castle? Who doesn’t want to live in a castle?" Balin asked, bewildered.

Thrain, still grinning, continued. "Canna’s a peculiar one, lad. A castle sounds good, but he has the habit of sleepin’ in the oddest places. Let me tell ye a story. In the Verdant Warden domain, we built Canna a house. Beautiful, it was—tied into nature, surrounded by greenery. Perfect, ye’d think! And do ye know where the man slept?"

Balin shook his head, still looking perplexed.

"On the roof," Thrain said with a grin. "He’d rather sleep under the stars than in any fancy house. So a castle? A grand waste, I’m afraid. He’d probably end up sleepin’ outside anyway."

The room burst into laughter again, and Balin finally cracked a smile, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I didn’t expect that."

Thrain nodded. "Aye, Canna’s a simple man in his own way. He’s got a fine weapon, and he’s never been fond of heavy armor. We’ll need to think of something else to show our appreciation."

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Meanwhile, across the sanctuary, other races were having similar discussions about how they could express their gratitude to Canna. The Verdant Wardens, led by Flora, had already decided on a gift—a rare and beautiful flower that Flora had found in the depths of the jungle. The Sylphirs, led by Elandra, had discovered a rare fruit deep within the forest that they believed would be a perfect offering.

Unlike many of the other races, Flora and Elandra knew that Canna’s tastes were simple. He had always preferred the beauty of nature over the extravagance of material gifts. While the others brainstormed elaborate offerings, they knew that something tied to the land would please him the most.

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As the preparations for the grand celebration continued, the sanctuary bustled with activity. Warriors trained in the arena, seamstresses worked on new garments, and cooks prepared vast amounts of food. Everyone was preparing for the big day. From the dwarves in Mountain Metal to the Sylphirs in the peaks, every race contributed something to the feast.

Five more days, and the grand celebration would begin.

As the grand celebration approached, excitement surged through the sanctuary, with the Boar King challenge taking center stage. Teams of five prepared to face the formidable Boar Kings—massive, bus-sized creatures with six-foot tusks. To ensure fairness, Canna restricted Saints and Disaster Rank warriors from joining, giving the sanctuary’s other fighters a chance to shine.

The shock troops were particularly eager to demonstrate the results of their intense training, viewing the challenge as the perfect test of their skills. Warriors from various factions, including the Elves, Verdant Wardens, Humans, Minotaurs, and Dwarves, formed their own teams, all determined to prove their strength.

The challenge wasn’t just about hunting; it was a symbol of the sanctuary’s unity and growth. As squads sparred and strategized, the atmosphere grew electric with anticipation. The Boar Kings, known for their aggression and near-impenetrable hides, were a daunting foe, but the sanctuary’s warriors were ready.

With the day of the celebration drawing near, everyone in the sanctuary—whether seasoned warriors or newer recruits—prepared for what would be an unforgettable event. The challenge and the festivities would mark a new chapter in the sanctuary’s history, celebrating its strength and camaraderie.