Chapter 1511 - 960: Active Offensive_3

Chapter 1511: Chapter 960: Active Offensive_3

He slammed the wooden cup onto the table heavily.

Across from him, a silent former Elf Ranger, Airen, was polishing a well-maintained dagger, his voice deep but with a hint of anticipation:

"Blood Pit Fortress... is indeed different. The ’vitality’ here carries the edge of the blade. Taking the initiative... even if it’s just the beginning, it’s better. Better than slowly decaying in despair."

He had experienced the tragedy of his homeland being destroyed by demons, the long years of revenge nearly eroded everything, until he arrived here.

Beside him, a remarkably tall Tree-man with skin like rough bark responded in a rumbling voice.

"Roots... need to spread... seek repayment... from demons... for the debt of life... Lord Venerable... brings... hope in action..."

His voice was slow, but every syllable contained deep power and steadfast support.

In another corner of the tavern, however, the atmosphere was completely different.

A table of young Night Watchers dressed in standard light armor appeared relatively calm.

Human Warrior Mark checked his sword sheath clasp, saying to his companions, "Read the task briefing? Zone B7, coordinate with the Dwarven shield array to advance, prioritize clearing the left flank’s Horned Demon cluster. The data link sharing is already preloaded."

Half-Elf Mage Apprentice Leia nodded, her fingers unwittingly tracing spell models in the air.

"Yeah, the support list for regional magic suppression has been updated too. Hope this time the structure’s spore support keeps up, last time the ’Razor Path’ over there nearly got sprayed by acid."

A solidly-built Dwarf Gunman Brom, carrying a massive firearm, spoke in a muffled voice.

"I just want to know, who in command is assigned to root out those Shadow Demon nests along this push route? Don’t let them sneak up like last time."

Their conversation was efficient, pragmatic, without excessive emotional outpouring, focused only on mission details and trust in their fellow teammates.

They couldn’t relate to the emotions of those Avengers.

After all, for them, the Abyss seemed forever in perpetual battle, hardly a stagnant pool?

How could anyone possibly become numb to it?

The tavern owner, a one-eyed former Blood War Fortress Warrior with a refined gold prosthetic arm, "Iron Hand" Morgan, expertly wiped a glass while listening intently to the discussions around him.

He chuckled softly to a young Half-Beastman attendant helping out nearby, "Look, kid, this is ’Light of the Rift’ daily life. The fire of avengers, merchants’ calculations, and those Night Watchers... hmm... professionalism.

"Lord Venerable’s move has truly stirred up our ’stagnant water’.

"Go, bring out more copies of today’s ’Night Watcher Abyss Briefing,’ they’re bound to sell well!"

He pointed to a conspicuous metal rack beside the bar, where the latest newspaper was displayed.

Indeed.

Even in the tavern late at night, the Night Watchers have their own dedicated newspaper.

Soon, newly-arrived young mercenaries, faces still bearing nervousness and curiosity, were drawn to the papers.

A young Half-Elf boy picked one up, looking at the front-page report on "Strengthening Regional Coordination and Optimizing Logistics Life Line" and the accompanying image of the fortress’s commanding presence.

Listening to the surrounding enthusiastic discussions about the imminent action, his eyes shone with a mix of excitement and anxiety, murmuring to himself:

"Can actively fighting alongside the Night Watchers really work? The paper makes it sound quite reasonable..."

As night fell, the lights of Blood Pit Fortress shone brightly under the eternal dark red sky of the Abyss.

The metal walls reflected a cold, hard sheen, the massive outline of the Iron Flower Structure in the night like a dormant steel giant beast, its summit pulsing faintly with green life light that countered the fortress’s various flames below.

The air was thick with oil, metal, and a hint of tense anticipation.

The tavern’s clamor slowly subsided, replaced by more subdued, dense sounds of metal clashing, weapon maintenance, and the final command confirmations from various barracks and fortifications.

A deadly atmosphere, like an invisible tide, quietly spread to every corner of the fortress.

Everyone’s gaze, whether filled with revenge flames, shrewd calculations, or calm focus, unanimously turned beyond the fortress, to the dark scorched earth occupied by demons.

At dawn, the horn of action will tear apart this oppressive silence.