"Are you in a hurry?"

"Yes," Orion replied. "I only have my Ocean Hunters. The force is too specialized; it's not enough."

Hearing the certainty in Orion's voice, Kraken grew serious. After a moment of thought, he looked up. "Since you need troops urgently, I'll lend you some of my personal guard. I was going to train a unit of Sea Race soldiers for you anyway."

With that, Kraken launched himself from the glass tank and plunged into the sea. When it came to important matters, he didn't waste time. He was already on his way to gather the promised forces.

Orion leaned back, a faint smile on his lips as he waited for his friend's return.

Silverwood Realm, Staghelm City.

In a hidden sanctuary within the city, the Moon Elf Isilra stood before a luminous Moonwell, her expression one of serene reverence.

"Mother," she said softly, "something has happened outside the city. The demonic monsters have withdrawn."

The Moonwell was more than a source of sacred water; it was their Spring of Life, a holy site that represented the hope of all elves. Many believed the wells were a direct gift from the Elven mother deity.

Hovering above this particular Moonwell was a phantom, its face indistinct, but its aura radiating a gentle, maternal glow. The silver moonlight caught in the well's pristine water reflected upon the phantom, giving it a clearer form. The water itself was crystal clear, so pure and tranquil it seemed capable of washing away all darkness from the mind.

The "mother" Isilra spoke to was the phantom of the Moonwell itself.

"Isilra, this is the result of your valiant resistance," the phantom's voice whispered, warm and kind. "You and the defenders have saved the people of Staghelm City from disaster. You have protected your home."

Isilra had no mother in the traditional sense; she had been born from the well's magic. Thus, she had always called it Mother. And this was no ordinary moonwell; it had achieved a form of divinity. Put simply, the Moonwell of Staghelm City was a demigod. Unlike others of her kind, however, the laws she commanded were not for combat. Her power lay in healing, in mending grievous wounds and restoring vitality and stamina to the city's defenders.

This was the true reason the Cult of Four's demonic hordes had never been able to conquer Staghelm City, even when a demigod from the Black Tower had personally led the assault.

"Mother," Isilra said, gently dismissing the praise, "the moonlight tells me it was not we who drove the enemy back. They are withdrawing their forces on their own. It seems they are shifting their focus to the north."

"The north?" the Moonwell's voice grew somber. "The north is the Hydraea Plains, the domain of the moon giants. Their people have been driven out, enslaved. Only a few scattered remnants still cling to life in their ancestral territory." As a benevolent demigod, it pained her deeply to see any race blessed by the moonlight cast out from their homes. Not long ago, Staghelm City had taken in a group of moon giant refugees, and their strength had proven invaluable in the city's defense.

"Mother, could they be heading for the far north? To the Forest of Nature?" Isilra asked. "The Wood Elf Tribe lives there. I wonder how they have fared." As fellow elves, and a peaceful race, Isilra had always felt a kinship with them.

"The Wood Elves are gone as well," the Moonwell replied, her voice filled with an even deeper sorrow. She had a mystical connection to the Tree of Life in the Forest of Nature, and she could no longer feel its presence. Either it had withered and died, or it had sealed itself away to preserve some remnant of the Wood Elf race's legacy.

"The aura of the Tree of Life has vanished from the north," she confirmed. "However, a new, unfamiliar faction has appeared there. Perhaps it is they who have driven the demonic monsters away." Her perception was unclear, but she knew that the demonic presence in the north had been drastically reduced in recent days.

"Mother, should we send scouts to the north?" Isilra proposed. "If the survivors of the Wood Elf race could join us in Staghelm City, with your blessing, they might be able to awaken the mighty Goliath Treants and Treant Guardians. With their strength added to ours, Staghelm City's defenses would be greatly enhanced. It could become a true sanctuary."

To create a safe haven for all the peoples of the land in a world overrun by a demonic blight—this was Isilra's dream.

"You may try," the Moonwell consented. "In the face of this calamity, we must unite all who can be united."

It was a noble dream, and by a strange twist of fate, it was one that perfectly mirrored Orion's own.

"From this day forward, this place shall be known as Augurath Sanctuary."

In the old tongue of this world, "Augurath" meant Survivor. Orion's intention was simple: to use the name to attract others of his kind. More Survivors meant more faith, and more faith could give rise to entirely new kinds of soldiers.

"Augurath... Augurath... Augurath Sanctuary," Xylia whispered the name, her head tilted back as she and Angel stared up at Orion, who stood on the broken steps of the Black Tower, proclaiming his intent to build a city on this very spot.

"My lord," Angel asked, "will this place truly shelter all the Survivors on the continent?"

"Of course," Orion replied, his voice calm but carrying. "Augurath welcomes every Survivor who is willing to live by the rules. In my territory, labor earns you food. Contribution earns you a home. Military service grants you special privileges. I will build a sanctuary here, the safest place on this entire continent."

He wasn't shouting. The only audience before him was the small elven squad led by Xylia. The undead and Plague-thrall armies were still out cleansing the land; his plan to build a city was, for now, still in the planning stages. But that didn't stop him from painting a vision for the Wood Elves. He needed them, Xylia and Angel, to carry his ideas and his philosophy back to their people. With the Black Tower broken, the number of demonic monsters would dwindle, and the elves who had been hiding in the deep woods would soon emerge. He needed to plant the seeds of his values in them early.

Speaking of the Wood Elves, back in The Stillness, a small but significant event was unfolding. With Orion and the main army gone, Caesar and Aerin were the only two left in command. Caesar was a warrior, his focus always on defeating the enemy.

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