Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Chapter 207 Spoils and Hydra

Canna stepped through the red portal, emerging back in the sanctuary. Canna had only one person on his mind—Kael, the head of logistics and the sanctuary's rock-solid backbone. If anyone knew the details of their spoils, it was him.

He found Kael near the command center, buried under a pile of papers, issuing orders with an air of authority that few could match. Kael's expression shifted from concentration to mild irritation when he saw Canna approaching, but there was a hint of relief in his eyes. The battle may have been over, but the aftermath was just as crucial.

"Sup, Kael? So, what's our numbers?" Canna asked casually, though his tone carried a hint of excitement. Spoils were always a mixed bag—sometimes literal bags of gold, other times cursed relics or enchanted armor.

Kael glanced up, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Before I answer that, what's that thing on your head?" He pointed to the little creature nestled atop Canna's hair—a tiny, dark owl with gleaming eyes that seemed to absorb all light around it.

The owl shifted slightly, its feathers an inky black, speckled with small constellations of stars that gave it an ethereal glow. Its talons clutched lightly onto Canna's hair, and its head swiveled around, observing everything with an unnervingly intelligent gaze. The creature exuded a quiet, ominous presence, like a silent observer from some distant, shadowy realm.

"Oh, this little fella?" Canna grinned, reaching up to gently stroke the owl's head. "Kael, meet Noctis, my third born. He's basically the reason we went to war in the first place. Starting today, he's in charge of information gathering. Even as we speak, he's got tiny clones mapping out the whole sanctuary. Efficient little guy, isn't he?"

Kael's eyebrows raised slightly as he eyed Noctis. The owl's small, beady eyes seemed to glimmer with knowing amusement, and Kael couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. "One and a half million orcs died for that tiny bird, huh?" Kael muttered under his breath, but he pushed the thought aside. There was no point in dwelling on it now. "Alright, moving on to the report."

Kael flipped through the stack of papers in his hands, organizing his thoughts. "In terms of spoils, we don't have much aside from the mana cores that were already harvested. There's no armor or weapons worth salvaging—most of them were charred beyond recognition thanks to you letting Stormbringer loose. Thankfully, Sylvanar offered to step outside and harvest the cores.

We still have three main tasks left: explore the orc settlements, look for any treasure, and burn the bodies."

Canna reached into his bag, pulling out the Hydra Egg he had received from Tonitrum. The egg's blue surface shimmered faintly, pulsing with an eerie, otherworldly light. The requirement to hatch this monstrous creature was daunting—1 million corpses, all to fuel the birth of a low-calamity ranked hydra.

It was a twisted irony that the egg's requirement matched the exact number of lives taken in the battle.

Holding the egg aloft, Canna felt a surge of mana course through his veins. He began the incantation, his voice low and resonant, filled with power. Dark tendrils of energy spiraled from his fingertips, intertwining with the egg, feeding it with the essence of death that hung heavy in the air.

The corpses around him began to disintegrate, their forms breaking down into pure mana, flowing directly into the egg like rivers of light.

The egg pulsed violently, absorbing the energy with a hunger that was almost palpable. Canna could feel the creature within stirring, its life force growing stronger with each passing second. He focused all his power, channeling every last bit of mana from the battlefield into the egg, until finally, with a deafening crack, the shell split open.

From within, a serpentine head emerged, followed by another, and another. The newborn hydra unfolded, each head snapping and hissing, its scales shimmering like polished obsidian. Canna watched in awe as the creature rose to its full height, towering above him, a manifestation of destruction and rebirth.

The hydra's many eyes locked onto Canna, recognizing its master. It bowed slightly, acknowledging him, before unleashing a deafening roar that echoed across the battlefield—a declaration of its power and a promise of chaos yet to come.

Canna smiled, feeling the rush of triumph surge through him. The hydra was his now, a powerful ally born from the spoils of war. And as the creature settled beside him, Canna knew this was only the beginning of something far greater.

The battlefield was no longer just a graveyard—it was the birthplace of his next legend.