Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Six months had passed since Canna had been encased in the transparent egg, undergoing a transformation. Outside the egg, his loyal subordinates kept watch, each in their own way preparing for the day their master would emerge from the egg.

Vorgrim and Grimruk often sparred to pass the time. For Vorgrim, it was a way to maintain his combat skills and stave off boredom. Grimruk, however, saw these sessions as invaluable training. His understanding of combat tactics and techniques deepened with each bout, and he even picked up new tricks from the experienced warrior.

Grimruk's anticipation grew daily; he was eager to showcase his improved abilities to Canna, believing that his master would be proud of his progress.

Meanwhile, Kael and Mortem were experiencing developments of their own. Kael found the solitude challenging. He wasn't used to spending so much time without talking to anyone, but the formidable presence of Canna's subordinates, especially Mortem, intimidated him. He often practiced spellcasting alone, working on his limited magical abilities in the hopes of being more useful.

One day, as Kael was practicing, he heard a voice from behind him, sharp and cutting. "My master considers you a friend, yet you offer little benefit to him. Your casting time and accuracy are appalling."

Kael tried to ignore the voice at first, recognizing it as Mortem's. However, Mortem's relentless critiques during his practice sessions began to wear on him. Every day, the necromancer would comment on his poor spellcasting technique, pointing out flaws with a cold, unyielding gaze.

Finally, Kael snapped. "I'm not as talented as you or Canna!" he shouted, frustration bubbling over. "I'm good with logistics, not magic! I haven't had the time to train properly!"

Mortem remained silent, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he spoke in his usual calm, measured tone. "If we leave this dungeon, I don't want my master to worry about you. I'll teach you the basics. First, tell me your affinity, the best spell you can cast, and how long you can maintain it."

Kael was taken aback. The idea of receiving training from an undead, particularly one as intimidating as Mortem, was unexpected. But he recognized the value in the offer. He hadn't made significant progress on his own and saw this as an opportunity to improve. Hesitantly, he began to answer Mortem's questions, revealing his affinity for earth and ice magic and the simple spells he could cast.

Over the following days, Kael received rigorous instruction from Mortem. The lessons were not easy; unlike Canna, who possessed a natural talent and the "Enhance Learning" passive skill, Kael struggled to absorb the information quickly. Mortem's teaching style was blunt and demanding, often leaving Kael feeling inadequate. Yet, there was progress. Slowly but surely, Kael's spellcasting improved.

He learned to control his magic more effectively, and his casting time became more precise.

Despite the grueling pace, Kael found himself intrigued by the lessons. There was a certain satisfaction in mastering even the most basic spells, and he began to see the value in what Mortem was teaching him. The relationship between them was not one of camaraderie; Mortem remained aloof, his focus solely on preparing Kael to be a reliable asset to Canna.

But Kael appreciated the effort and the challenge, knowing that he was being given a rare opportunity to improve.

As the days passed, Tonitrum, continued his long slumber. Occasionally, he would open his eyes, gazing at the egg that held Canna, before drifting back into sleep. His calm presence was a reminder of the power and potential within the egg, a potential that all awaited with bated breath.

The environment within the dungeon became a rhythm of training, watching, and waiting. Each member of the group focused on their tasks, honing their skills and preparing for the unknown challenges ahead.

The air was thick with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the occasional sparring matches between Vorgrim and Grimruk or the quiet mutterings of Kael as he practiced his spells under Mortem's watchful eye.

One day, amidst this routine, a sudden, sharp sound echoed through the dungeon. It was a sound that immediately drew the attention of all present—a crack. Vorgrim and Grimruk ceased their sparring, turning towards the source. Mortem, who had been observing Kael's practice, also looked towards the egg, his eyes narrowing in focus.

Kael felt a shiver run down his spine. The egg, which had been a constant presence, seemingly impervious and silent, was now changing. The sound of cracking grew louder, more pronounced, filling the cavernous space with cracking sounds.

All eyes were on the egg as the cracks spread across its surface, the once smooth exterior now marred with fissures. The air was thick with anticipation and tension, the weight of the moment pressing down on each of them.

For Grimruk, the moment was a culmination of months of training and growth. He felt a surge of pride, ready to show Canna the fruits of his labor. Vorgrim, ever the warrior, prepared himself for whatever might emerge, his loyalty to Canna unwavering. Mortem remained stoic, his thoughts unreadable, but his gaze never wavered from the egg.

Kael, standing slightly apart, felt a mix of fear and excitement. He clutched the spellbook Mortem had given him, a symbol of his newfound knowledge and capability.

The egg's surface continued to crack and splinter until, finally, a piece fell away, revealing a glimpse of what lay inside. The light that poured out was blinding, a brilliant glow that filled the entire dungeon. The figures outside shielded their eyes, struggling to see what was happening.

As the light began to fade, the figure of Canna emerged, transformed and renewed. His eyes glowed with an inner light, and his aura was more powerful than ever before while lightning streaked in his body. The transformation was complete, and the impact was noticeable. Canna looked around at his assembled subordinates, his expression one of calm.

He stepped forward, each movement filled with newfound strength and grace. The silence was profound, the moment heavy with meaning. Canna's gaze met each of his subordinates in turn, assessing them, acknowledging their presence and their efforts.

Finally, he spoke, his voice resonating with power and assurance. "Thank you for your patience and dedication," he said, his words carrying a weight that settled over the group. "Much has changed, and much remains to be done. Shall we get started then?"

The words were a promise, a commitment to the path ahead. As Canna stood before them, the air was charged with a sense of purpose and unity. The time for waiting was over; the journey was set to continue, with new challenges and adventures awaiting them.

The group felt a renewed sense of determination. Each member understood that they had grown and evolved during Canna's absence, and now, with their leader returned and transformed, they were ready to face whatever lay ahead.

The egg's cracking had not just signaled Canna's rebirth but a new chapter for them all. They were no longer just individuals brought together by circumstance; they were a team, bound by their shared experiences and a common goal. As they prepared to move forward, they knew that whatever challenges they faced, they would face them together, stronger and more united than ever.