The game has become a real alternate world

Chapter 1156 - 801: Avenger (Part 2)

Below is a gruesome meat grinder.A young Night Watcher Warrior’s chest was sunken, shoulder armor shattered, and a deep, bone-revealing wound tore down from his collarbone, with blood mixed with rainwater constantly flowing.

Yet he seemed unaffected, as if he could still feel the pain.

Under such pain, he remained cold-eyed, sidestepping a Horned Demon’s pounce, and with a backhanded strike, precisely pierced its eye socket, stirring it.

Effortlessly graceful, ignoring significant injuries.

He then pulled out an unremarkable gray hard plastic vial, bit open the safety cap, and gulped down the strong Healing Potion inside, thick and blood-red.

The muscles of the wound instantly tightened, bleeding stopped immediately.

His movements became even more rapid, using his Shield to smash the corpse off the city wall, facing a new Frenzy Demon climbing onto the battlements.

Beside him, a Minotaur Avenger named Bard watched, twitching at the corners of his eyes, as his Totem Pole smashed a Frenzy Demon into a meat pie, bellowing, "Damn! Do you Night Watchers drink healing potions like water?! That potion can be exchanged for two yaks in our tribe!"

A broken demon horn was embedded in him, scorch marks all over, but he didn’t care.

However, unlike the Night Watcher beside him, such injuries did affect his movements, and it was very obvious.

A Night Watcher quickly ran past, and casually sprinkled a bottle of potion on his wound.

"Oh! Thanks!"

Expressing thanks amidst battle, but he wanted to complain further, yet more demons surged up.

A climbing Inferior Demon was swept away by his massive pole, limbs twisted as it fell.

"Bard! Watch out for that Twin-Headed Commander! It’s brewing a cloud of rot!" A clear and piercing voice rang out.

The Elf’s almost chant-like tone, even in such a noisy battlefield, during this roar, could be a melodious sound.

An Elf Ranger ghosted by, the Longbow vibrating, an armor-piercing Demon-Breaking Arrow with a faint blue glow at its tail tore through the rain curtain.

This arrow, supplied in near-limitless quantities by the Night Watchers, pierced pinpoint into one of the Twin-Headed Commander’s eyes.

Pus and blood erupted.

The Commander howled in pain, its forming Spell interrupted.

"Haha! It’s you annoying long-eared archers again, are the spirits of the forest still wailing?" The uninjured head of the Twin-Headed Commander let out a sharp taunt, trying to verbally wound the Elf.

It seemed like there was an old grudge between the two sides.

But the Elf remained expressionless, another arrow already notched, eyes targeting its throat’s vital area, responding coldly, "Every arrow from Arynia will find its heart in the Abyss—just like the next one."

Bard’s eyes turned bloodshot, matching the direction the Elf’s arrow pointed, the giant Totem Pole, full of vengeful fury, fiercely thrust at the Twin-Headed Commander’s body that reached the battlement.

"Shut up! Maggot of the Abyss!"

With immense power, the Totem Pole smashed viciously against the neck below the injured eye of the Commander.

Crack! The sound of bone breaking was clearly audible, as the Commander screamed and fell.

The Night Watcher beside saw this situation and immediately added another slash.

Although these Avengers were very powerful, with their help, the pressure on the Night Watchers was greatly reduced. But they weren’t Night Watchers, so they couldn’t gain Experience from demons, making it impossible to completely kill or permanently weaken the demons in this area.

"Burn these mongrels to the ground! For the old winery of Anvil Castle!" In the middle of the wall, the Dwarf Grom’s roar mixed with a special metallic jet shriek.

He hid behind a metal shelter solidified by Alchemy, the roughly shaped "Forge Breaker" Alchemy Shotgun in his hand spewing a wide swath of blazing white molten metal streams.

Instantly vaporizing a group of Inferior Demons on a ladder.

Piling up at his feet were not shells, but rapidly consumed disk-shaped Energy Bullet magazines bigger than a palm.

This wasn’t Alchemy Equipment provided by the Night Watchers, because their Alchemy Equipment couldn’t perfectly adjust to the Abyssal Environment yet.

Such Alchemy Weapons weren’t exclusive to Night Watchers either. Many capable forces and worlds had corresponding technology, and the Blood War Fortress had many such finished products for sale.

"Hey, old stone!"

A bit further away, a panting Half-Beastman Warrior rotating off shouted to Grom.

"Did your fire-spitting baby go mute again? Don’t skimp on that ’magic crystal,’ I left two boxes for you behind the wall! The Night Watchers have plenty to go around!" He pointed to the four sealed crates stacked by the wall battlement behind him.

Grom spat out a mouthful of spittle mixed with black blood, cursing as he replaced the energy magazine that had reddened from the high temperature: "Bullshit! The radiator overloaded earlier! This baby is as sturdy as a Dwarf!"

He skillfully ejected the shell, loaded a new crystal, the bolt clacking shut with a crisp sound.

"But... these guys are filthy rich, throwing such ammo in the fortress, it’s worth a fortune. The Night Watchers, on the other hand, hand them out like potatoes, are they a Race of born Alchemists? Or did they dig up a treasure trove in an ancestral grave?"

"I think so!"

Bard responded with a loud voice, smashing another Frenzy Demon with a pillar, "Look at their armor! Hard as a Stygian Demon’s hide! And that potion..."

He glanced again at the expressionless Night Watcher Warrior beside him, pouring Healing Potion over the bloody wound on his arm.

"Like a walking gold mine, unkillable."

The Night Watchers around didn’t react much to these Avengers’ exclamations.

Being teased by outsiders about their wealth wasn’t new to the Night Watchers, they were long used to it.

Perhaps once they were pleased and proud, but now, it no longer mattered.

As everyone leaned against the wall battlement, catching their breath, a team of elite Abyssal Stalkers silently emerged from the wall shadows, sharp claws pouncing at several weary Night Watchers.

They moved swiftly and silently, targeting weak spots.

The leading Succubus wore a cruel smile, evidently skilled in killing.

However, one Night Watcher Captain seemed to have anticipated it, suddenly shouting: "Flares!"

These weren’t just to light up darkness, they also possessed the ability to break through those evil invisibility spells.

Several round alchemy devices hanging on belts were quickly activated and thrown, emitting a dazzling, blinding white light.

All the stalkers were exposed with nowhere to hide.

These things, although varied and from different worlds, worked essentially the same.

And the ones they carried were provided by the Night Watchers, excellent in user experience, though the price was unknown, as the Night Watchers supplied them in abundance.

"Isalaria!"

The Elf Ranger’s eyes shot cold light, almost instantly locking on the leading Succubus, the Demon Commander who once participated in burning her homeland.

She didn’t expect to meet here.

Old and new grudges collided at that moment.

The Longbow in her hand drew like a full moon.

"We meet again, didn’t last time’s lesson make you remember the sun’s warmth?"

The cruel smile on Succubus Isalaria’s face stiffened slightly, then turned into a more hideous malice.

"It’s you?! The bug from the forest, your people’s final cries were the best symphony I ever heard, I still remember the feel when peeling their skin!"

She screamed, charging fast like a ghost.

Above and below the walls, the Night Watchers’ efficiency, coldness, equipment dominance, intertwined with other races’ Avengers’ wildness, ferocity, existential struggles.

These Avengers, actively participating and aiding, were amazed by the wealth of the Night Watchers.

Joking about demons amidst life and death moments, this nearly numb optimism was an instinct gained from countless times crawling out of the Abyss meat grinder.

This is the Abyss, excessive negative emotions would crush a life, dragging it into the Abyss, turning it into what they loathed most.

Thus finding joy in hardship, maintaining a good mood was a necessary skill for all Abyss warriors.

The hidden torch at the fortress’s center was stably burning, protecting the souls of those Night Watchers.

In the distance, horns sounded again, bringing more, more distorted roars.

The Blood Pit Fortress’s mill continued to turn.

The steel torrent of the Night Watchers and the demons’ bloody, fiery wrath clashed madly in the magic’s radiance and demons’ foul blood, consuming wildly.

The demons’ repulsiveness and power far surpassed what mice could compare.