The next week arrived with an air of anticipation. In the heart of the sanctuary, a large clearing had been prepared, where the shock troops gathered before their departure. Hundreds of sanctuary inhabitants—beastkin, elves, dwarves, and even a few Blossom Shells—came to see them off, offering cheers of support. The troops, clad in their pristine white uniforms lined with silver, stood tall and proud, ready to embark on their mission.
Overhead, Canna soared on the winds, watching the preparations from above. Vorgrim, the ever-dedicated trainer, paced in front of the troops, ensuring every detail was in order. As the sun climbed higher into the sky, reaching its zenith, the moment of departure approached. It was time.
