The crystals flared, dissolving into the runes of the gate. Each symbol pulsed, one after another, like a heartbeat—steady, inevitable.
Light spilled outward, blinding at first, then narrowing into four glowing silhouettes. The air grew heavy, buzzing with raw energy as if the world itself was holding its breath.
The glow flickered weakly before shaping into a thin, trembling girl. She hugged her arms around herself, eyes darting nervously. "M-my name is Lyra… Bronze I. I have no profession. No skills. I was… just an orphan."
Karl's jaw tightened, a tight line cutting across his face. One warrior out of five— the rest… ordinary, fragile peaople. His eyes swept over them, noting Lyra's trembling form.
Mirael quickly moved to Lyra's side, soothing her. Doran tried to lighten the mood with a grin, while Orven's gaze softened with quiet patience. Drael stood steady, shield planted in the ground like an anchor.
Weapons alone don't ensure survival, he reminded himself. The Sanctuary depended on more than brute strength; it depended on coordination, care, and the small, steady choices that kept them alive.
Karl inhaled slowly, letting the tension ease just enough to speak, his voice calm but firm. "Lyra… you're safe here. Everyone will help you. We'll find a way for you to contribute."
The air around the Summoning Gate hummed low and expectant, light pulsed faintly. The next summon took a long, tense moment to appear, the glow stretching and flickering as if uncertain, reluctant to solidify into form.
Every second felt drawn out, the silence pressing in, while Karl's eyes stayed fixed on the shifting shimmer, waiting for what—or who—would step through.
Finally, the ground trembled softly as the form emerged.
A beast stepped through—smaller than a warhorse but radiating raw power. Its hide was dark and ridged like stone, rough in patches, showing its youth. At just over 1.2 meters at the shoulder and nearly 2 meters in length, it resembled a stocky calf rather than a fully grown monster.
Yet the sharp horn jutting from its snout hinted at the strength it would one day wield.
Karl's ears caught its low, guttural growl, and though he couldn't understand its words, the bond through the Sanctuary spoke clearly. This was a Stonehide Rhino—a Bronze I beast.
Its presence was solid and imposing, but beyond that, its abilities remained a mystery.
A heartbeat later, the shimmer shifted again, and a lean warrior stepped forward. His grip never left the spear strapped across his back, and his gaze was sharp as flint. A scar ran across his chin, a silent testimony to battles survived.
"Tarran. Bronze I, a Spearman. Skilled in Piercing Thrust – can delivers a precise spear strike that penetrates armor, dealing increased damage to armored targets."
Last came a quiet presence—a woman with pale hair bound in a simple braid. She carried no weapon, but a faint, gentle light shimmered around her hands. Her eyes held both weariness and determination.
"I am Liora. Bronze I. A Healer.
As she spoke, the air seemed to soften around the group. A subtle warmth radiated outward, easing the ache of fatigue in the camp, offering comfort and reassurance even before any action was taken.
Karl's shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension coiling in his chest loosening. Each new summon brought a tangible shift in the Sanctuary's atmosphere.
The Stonehide Rhino—youthful yet brimming with raw potential—made the ground tremble gently under its weight, a living promise of strength to come.
Tarran's sharp, battle-hardened presence steadied him, a warrior whose skill could turn the tide when brute force alone wouldn't suffice. And Liora—her quiet, radiant aura spilling warmth—offered the reassurance Karl had been craving someone who could keep his allies alive in the chaos to come.
And then there was Drael, the Shieldbearer, whose presence alone inspired both caution and confidence.
A small, almost involuntary smile tugged at his lips. Relief mingled with excitement. These three weren't just numbers or stats—they were a start. With them, the fragile balance of his growing Sanctuary felt a little more secure.
For the first time since the wolves had circled and rival scouts had appeared, Karl allowed himself a spark of hope: perhaps now, with these additions, he could truly stand a chance.
He exhaled, steadying his racing thoughts, and let the hum of the gate fade into the background. The new allies—beast, warrior, and healer—were his. And for the first time in a long while, the weight of uncertainty felt lighter.
Karl stepped forward, meeting each of their eyes. "My name is Karl Varn, Bronze II Lord. This is your home, and I am your Lord. My duty is to lead, to protect, and to help us all grow stronger together."
Karl straightened, letting his gaze sweep over both the new and old arrivals. "Each of you has your role," he began, his voice steady. "Some of you excel in fighting, some in scouting, others in planting or cooking. Every skill matters here—everything we do is necessary to survive. We are all part of this, together."
His tone softened slightly, warmth threading through his words. "I don't just command—you can trust me. We'll face danger, yes, but I will ensure we all survive. And we'll make this Sanctuary a place worth defending, a place worth living for."
The new summons blinked, absorbing his words. The weight and warmth of leadership settled over them, and for a brief moment, the bond between them tightened, echoing in sync with the Sanctuary's steady pulse.