Chapter 1391 - 910: Abyss Camp

Chapter 1391: Chapter 910: Abyss Camp

Abyss.

Blood Battle Battlefield, layer 1121.

The newly risen Blood Pit Fortress stands tall and proud.

The sky remains characteristically murky, dark, blood-red, and filthy like sticky stains at the end of one’s vision, exuding a sense of eternal oppression.

Orange-red light shines down on the cracked, barren abyss lands below without a hint of warmth.

The air is always thick with the pungent smell of blood, almost solid enough to touch, and a killing, destructive atmosphere deeply permeates every charred inch of this land.

Here, it is an eternal chaos furnace, a relentless battleground of blood.

Looking out, the changes in the Blood Pit Fortress are ongoing and relentless.

Originally, the fortress’s heavy, cold main body has now become the core area of the inner ring.

While on its periphery, a more magnificent, rugged, and fierce new city wall is rising.

This wall appears strangely complex and chaotic, as if it was haphazardly piled and forcibly assembled using discarded metal, deep red stones, and various massive, twisted, oddly shaped bones.

Its surface is uneven and covered with spikes and angles, forming a stark contrast to the orderly, solid style of the inner ring fortress—the difference is as vast and irreconcilable as order and chaos themselves.

On the rough wall embedded with bones, towers rise like sharp fangs, emitting a chillingly vigilant aura.

At the top of the towers, almost all are embedded or suspended with translucent crystal balls, rotating slowly and continuously projecting beams of ethereal blue scanning light.

Like searchlights, they tirelessly and vigilantly survey the dead, charred stone-covered barren land in front of the walls.

Standard spatial supply boxes are neatly stacked behind the wall parapets or closely against the inner side of the wall roots.

However, the number of supplies here is evidently a level lower compared to those in the inner ring, where boxes are piled like mountain ranges.

But it makes sense, since this is merely the first fragile line facing the demon tide; storing too many precious supplies here would only result in them vanishing or being plundered by demons as the walls fall.

This hard-earned experience comes from countless bloody battles and sacrifices.

Thus, these supplies are placed in carefully calculated, adequate numbers to support the initial consumption of the outer defense, while preventing unbearable losses during retreats.

According to cruel lessons from numerous blood battles, when these supplies are depleted, it signals the time for defenders to orderly retreat to the true fortress.

This newly built, destined-to-be-short-lived outer wall will often be temporarily abandoned, only to be rebuilt upon reclaiming the area later.

While this oppressive calm persists, peculiar lights suddenly flicker in the filthy sky like meteors streaking overhead.

These lights have no destructive power, resembling more a specific signal beam and standing out starkly in the dimness.

Patrolling Night Watcher Warriors and those silent Avengers merely glanced up expressionlessly before swiftly resuming their patrol routes.

Evidently accustomed to such signals, there’s no need for surprise.

With the signal beams shining down, a team riding large flying mounts pierces through the heavy, murky sky, slowly descending onto the cleared open space behind the walls.

The team members belong to various races—muscular dwarves with thick beards, tall and handsome elves, and other race members of varied forms.

They mount bipedal flying dragons, clad in thick heavy saddles and shimmering metal armor.

These raptors, flowing with thin dragon blood, boast remarkable combat and load-bearing abilities, stirring a stench as their wide wings flap.

However, their intelligence is far inferior to true intelligent life; their gaze reveals more of their wild instincts, serving as a crucial part in the fortress’s air defense against flying demon assaults.

The landing point of this flying dragon squad is a temporary camp behind the walls, marked by a prominent flag.

The flag bears the Night Watcher organization’s unique torch emblem burning fiercely, under which a clear depiction of scales symbolizing fair trade is drawn.

This is the distinct mark of the Night Watcher Commerce Association, indicating this place as a significant temporary trading post with other forces.

Accompanied by heavy landings and deep dragon growls, these hulking creatures land one after the other.

The long-awaiting Night Watcher Commerce Association’s leader, a sharp-eyed middle-aged human in unique association attire, promptly leads a few assistants to greet them.

The leading Elf Knight agilely flips off his dragon, landing gracefully and elegantly.

He strides forward with a slight apologetic smile, warmly extending his hand to the commerce leader as they shake hands tightly, then gently embrace, patting each other’s backs.

This is a common greeting ritual among battlefield comrades.

"We’re here to pick up supplies."

The Elf Captain released his hand, explaining sincerely, while instinctively dusting off the armor.