Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Not everything went exactly according to plan. As the sanctuary warriors pushed deeper into the marshlands, some were injured in the chaos. Here and there, a warrior would be impaled by a stray spear-like limb from the bog creatures or receive a vicious bite.

Still, the sanctuary warriors fought on with determination, dodging at just the right moment to avoid fatal injuries. The healers, always present on the battlefield, were invaluable. Their timely intervention prevented serious wounds from becoming deadly.

Using spells that not only healed injuries but also reduced fatigue and improved stamina recovery, the healers bolstered the warriors' morale, pushing them to fight harder and go further.

With the healers assisting real-time on the field, the warriors of the sanctuary fought as if they were tireless. Their strikes became faster, their reflexes sharper. It was a sight to behold, a true testament to the unity and power of the sanctuary's forces. Among them, the shock troops stood out the most—elites of the sanctuary who shined as brightly as the stars above.

Lina, one of the shock troops, fought with an unmatched grace and lethality. Her affinity with ice was known throughout the sanctuary, and in battle, she wielded daggers coated with a cold, blue frost. Every slice of her dagger left a trail of shimmering frost in its wake, clinging to her enemies.

For the unlucky creatures that crossed her path, their movements grew slower and more sluggish as the frost effect stacked on them. The weaker monsters fared even worse—Lina's daggers turned them into lifeless ice sculptures with a single cut. In the chaos of the marsh, she moved swiftly between enemies, freezing entire packs of bog serpents and mirelurkers with expert precision.

Her opponents often didn't even realize they were slowing down, their bodies stiffening until it was too late.

Eriol, another of the shock troops, had an affinity far rarer and more terrifying: gravity. His very presence on the battlefield made the air feel heavy, as if the earth itself bent to his will. The swampy terrain became a deathtrap for anything that dared face him. With a simple motion, Eriol could amplify the gravity around his enemies, crushing them under their own weight.

Some creatures were flattened instantly, their bodies popping like overfilled balloons as the force of gravity overwhelmed them. Eriol wielded this power like a hammer, systematically crushing everything in his path. His enemies never stood a chance—their legs buckling under the invisible weight before they were ripped apart by the crushing force.

Then there were the Ignis twins, Ari and Ira. Their fire magic was so powerful that even the marsh creatures, who were naturally resistant to many elements, couldn't withstand the twins' coordinated attacks. Ari, the melee fighter of the two, wielded a blazing sword that left trails of fire with every swing.

She was relentless in close combat, using her agility and strength to slice through the bog monsters with ease. Her strikes were precise, and each cut caused a burst of flame that set her enemies ablaze.

Meanwhile, Ira, her brother, fought from a distance, launching precise and deadly fireballs that hit their targets with pinpoint accuracy. His mastery over fire magic allowed him to invoke high-tier spells like Fire Cyclone, which swept through clusters of enemies, incinerating them in its wake.

He also called down Fire Lances, spears of flame that pierced through even the toughest hides of the bog goliaths. Together, the Ignis twins were a force of nature, their fire magic spreading chaos and destruction through the marshlands. Canna had personally given them their last name, "Agnis," a symbol of their unmatched power over fire.

Yet, among all the shock troops, the one who shined brightest was Malon, an elven warrior who fought with chakrams—circular, razor-sharp blades customized specifically for him. Malon's chakrams gleamed in the moonlight, bearing the logo of the sanctuary, and he wielded them with deadly precision. Each strike from Malon's chakrams was swift, leaving no time for his enemies to react.

He wore a half-face mask that covered his eyes and nose, and on the battlefield, he was like a shadow, moving too fast for the eye to follow. The marsh creatures barely had time to realize they were being attacked before they fell, lifeless, in Malon's wake.

Other warriors who followed in Malon's path often found only piles of corpses where enemies once stood. His agility and precision were unrivaled, and he used the cover of night to his advantage, striking from the darkness like a phantom. "Tsk, Malon's been here," one warrior muttered as he and his squad arrived at a cluster of dead bog serpents. "Let's find another spot.

He's already killed everything here."

Another warrior nodded in agreement. "You're right. I feel sorry for whatever crosses his path."

While Malon dominated the battlefield with his speed and finesse, the rest of the shock troops were equally efficient in their own ways. They moved deeper into the marsh than any other group, cutting through the waves of enemies with practiced ease. Their elite training, particularly in swamp environments, was evident in the way they fought.

Thanks to Vorgrim's rigorous regimen, they knew exactly how to maneuver in the swamp without being bogged down. Their movements were fluid, their strikes precise, and their teamwork flawless.

As the newly arrived warriors struggled to keep pace, the difference in power and experience between them and the sanctuary warriors became increasingly clear. While they had managed to take down three or five monsters, the sanctuary warriors had already slain seven or eight with ease.

The sanctuary warriors moved with fluid precision, each step and strike coordinated as if they had rehearsed this hunt a thousand times. The new recruits, on the other hand, fumbled with their attacks, their faces strained with sweat and nerves as they stayed at the back of the formation, avoiding the brunt of the monster's onslaught.

The swamp creatures weren't forgiving. Leech Horrors, Bog Serpents, and Mirelurkers alike seemed to sense weakness and targeted the newcomers with relentless attacks. Just as one of the inexperienced warriors turned to face another oncoming wave of creatures—this time appearing to rise straight out of the muddy ground—the warrior's heart sank. More monsters were coming.

The slimy creatures crawled and slithered from the muck, and a sense of dread settled over the group.