Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Seeing the question in Canna's eyes, Tonitrum answered.

"After learning from the undead, your skill in spell casting and mana application has grown by leaps and bounds. A normal human would have trouble casting high-level spells, yet you've mastered it within a few months. The next thing for you to learn is combat mastery."

Canna listened intently. He reflected on his training so far, admiring how much he had already improved as a mage. Spells that once seemed impossible now flowed effortlessly from his fingertips. From Tonitrum's words, he could tell that it was time to step onto the path of a warrior.

He assumes that his next training will be about mastering the usage of various weapons since there are weapons scattered around him.

Up until now, Canna had only known how to use one weapon: his rare-rated daggers, "Burn and Raze." To be honest with himself, he was merely swinging and stabbing the daggers without any real technique. Although Mortem had taught him about striking vital points, Canna could only do so efficiently when casting spells and firing at a distance.

His knowledge of daggers was minimal; he only relied on his instincts and wielded them as he pleased.

The prospect of learning more about weapon usage excited him. He had a feeling that this new phase of training would be just as demanding as his previous lessons in mana application and spellcasting. It would push him to develop both strength and skill in ways he had never imagined.

He reached out to the floating vial in front of him and took a deep breath. Once he felt calm, he looked at Tonitrum again, resolve clear in his eyes. All of this was to grow stronger, and he would be damned if he didn't make the most of this opportunity.

Tonitrum smirked and turned his attention back to the red portal. After a few seconds, corpses began floating out of it again, just like they had the first time.

As Tonitrum sorted through the corpses for ingredients to be used in the "Create Elder Undead spell, Canna seized the opportunity to question Mortem about their recent scenario. He wanted to know what had happened to them and what kind of magic had been used to knock them out with just a glance from Tonitrum's eyes.

For the first time since Mortem's birth, Canna heard a sigh from him. Through their connection, he sensed Mortem's frustration. "Master, no magic was involved. It's simply an innate ability of being a dragon. Each creature possesses unique racial abilities; werewolves grow stronger under a full moon, and vampires enhance their stats by drinking blood.

Dragons, however, boast racial abilities that surpass all others."

"One of those racial abilities is known as "Dragon Fear." It's a potent ability inherent only to the dragon race, instilling paralyzing fear in those who encounter it. This ability harnesses the immense presence and primal aura of dragons, causing lesser beings to tremble and flee in terror, unable to resist the overwhelming pressure of the dragon's presence."

As Canna contemplated the overwhelming power of that racial skill, he heard several thuds nearby. Turning to look, he saw five corpses of varying shapes and sizes. One was exceptionally tall, towering at least three meters; it had red skin and a physique reminiscent of bodybuilding competitors back on Earth. Another had long arms and short legs, standing about six feet tall.

Among the corpses, he could discern only two were humans; the others were so mangled he couldn't tell what they were

"The red one is a Barbarian Lord," Mortem said, trying to make sense of the corpses. "I believe the other is an assassin from the Mideas race, known for their prowess in stealth and assassination. As for the other three, they are demihumans, but their exact race is unclear," he added; luckily, Tonitrum offered an explanation.

"One Barbarian Lord, one Midean Master, and the three are unique: Voragons, an extinct race of legendary warriors," Tonitrum explained. "You won't find them in any codex; they were the pioneers of martial prowess. In fact, these three were the first beings ever to pose a threat to my existence. Each of these corpses possesses the skill of 'Weapon Mastery.' Now, you know what needs to be done next."

As Tonitrum finished speaking, Canna couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the mention of "extinct," triggering flashbacks to his time on Earth working at the sanctuary. Shaking his head, he focused on the task at hand. Looking at the vial once more, he removed its cap and sighed before swallowing the drink down.

As he swallowed the drink, a sharp pain surged through Canna once more, feeling like fire flowing through his body. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, his body unable to withstand the strain. Mortem quickly stepped in, casting healing spells to lessen his master's suffering; Canna's body started to glow, power overflowing from his tiny frame.

With great difficulty, he chanted the spell "Create Elder Undead,"

"Use the corpses before me as my offering!" Canna shouted. With those final words, mana began to be drawn out of him. However, this time, Mortem noticed it wasn't just mana being drained; he could see blood being siphoned from Canna's body as well.

A strange and eerie energy enveloped the corpses before him. They began to rotate slowly, as if guided by an unseen force, their forms blending and merging into a singular, twisted shape. Limbs and features shifted and melded together, forming a grotesque amalgamation of the fallen warriors. The sight was gruesome, a dance of flesh and bone as the corpses twisted and started to fuse together.

However, Canna was spared from witnessing this horror as he had already succumbed to the backlash of the potion, completely passing out.

A sudden, loud sonic boom reverberated through the dungeon, shaking its walls. From the epicenter of the blast emerged a mysterious figure radiating an aura of formidable power. Even Mortem sensed the danger emanating from its presence.

The figure had long, flowing black hair that seemed to move with a life of its own. An aura of sharp intensity surrounded him, so potent it felt as though it could slice through anyone who dared to approach. The very air around him crackled with danger, making it clear that this was no ordinary being.

The figure scanned the surroundings, his sharp eyes locking onto a dragon watching him intently. He turned to see a human lying on the ground and an undead creature diligently tending to the injured man. The figure glanced back at the dragon, their eyes meeting for a moment.

Instinctively, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect the human as he was being healed. A powerful connection rushed through him when looking at the human, and it dawned on him that this human was his master. He also sensed a faint link with the undead. While the figure was approaching his master, he noticed a sword lying nearby and picked it up.

As he approaches, a tumult of unknown emotions flickered in his eyes while looking at his master. With a stance as firm as an unyielding wall, he positioned himself, ready to defend and protect with unwavering loyalty.

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