Chapter 1207: Chapter 825: Gears (2)
She pointed at the line of silent, grim, well-equipped black armored soldiers below, "What that place needs are people like them, not idealists like you who drool over blueprints."
Not everyone is suited for battle.
Some people are naturally unsuited for combat, whether psychologically or physically.
In the urgent need for logistics personnel, these people who are not fit for battle naturally shine and contribute there.
Elton choked for a moment, his face slightly reddened, muttering, "I’m just... saying. Staring at these boxes all day, I have to imagine the scene where they are truly put to use."
Of course, I know I’m not suited for combat, actually, I don’t really want to fight, but sometimes just thinking about it isn’t enough.
He sighed, "Besides, being able to experience the leader’s blessing up close is not bad either..."
Becca shook her head, ignoring him, continuing to focus on the flow of numbers in front of her.
Just then, the teleportation gate’s light suddenly brightened, the humming sound grew louder, and space rippled.
A group of figures emerged from it.
Unlike the new troops at the rear who were fully prepared with bright armor, these Night Watchers had battle armor covered with scratches and dents, stained with dark red blood and sulfur dust.
Their steps were weary and heavy, with shoulder armor clearly marked by the abyss frontline troops’ distinctive blood and fire insignia.
A strong unique abyssal aura—sulfur, blood, and a hint of purification-tainted order magic power—spread with their appearance, hard to mask the chaos and corrosion.
The chaos magic power emanating from them immediately clashed with the surrounding magic power, with the air around distorting like light and shadow upon their return.
This is a unique phenomenon that occurs here.
Spatial tunnels are different; although they connect two areas, they essentially do not allow the magic power to flow between regions.
Even the special construction or high-level teleportation channels can block substances in the air.
They can allow only a certain volume of physical units to enter and exit.
Fighting in the abyss for a long time, chaos magic power infiltrates the body, mixing together.
This is inevitable.
From the distortion of the surrounding aura, it’s apparent that this returning Night Watchers team has fought in the abyss for quite a while and has certainly killed many demons.
Night Watchers working for a long time in this area can distinguish this clearly.
"Whew... Finally..."
At the forefront, a tall warrior ripped off his heavily damaged helmet, revealing a face full of sweat and weary dust; he greedily inhaled the relatively "clean" air of the Steel Spine District.
"The abyss’s smell has soaked in thoroughly."
Another warrior lowered his deeply notched war axe, resting it like a crutch and complained, "Old Parker, save your strength."
"Since the last god war, those damned demon attacks aren’t as overwhelming as before, but this word ’constancy’ has truly enlightened me.
"Wave after wave, barely a moment to catch a breath, they exhaust you dry! It’s even more draining than when Lord Kana chopped off those evil gods’ heads!
"How long have we been rotated over? I’m losing track of time; now I dream of slaying demons, to be honest, I feel like I could keep chopping, even if I have to rotate back for rest, I’m not tired at all."
"Barret, shut your running mouth!"
A seemingly older, calm captain in the team frowned and interrupted, "Rotation is rotation, meaning we definitely need rest, stop complaining here. Don’t see those rookies are staring at us?"
He was right; a team of new recruits preparing to enter the teleportation gate, faces nervous yet resolute, were casting complex glances over these "defeated troops".
With curiosity, reverence, and a slightly imperceptible apprehension.
A young warrior, his immature face and a longbow almost as tall as him strapped on his back, quietly spoke to his companion, "Aifan, those... seniors look a bit tired and crazy... Is the abyss really that terrifying?"
The companion pursed his lips tightly, glancing at Barret’s scarred armor, nodding and shaking his head, "Books say ’demons like tidal waves, battles never end’... surely it’s terrifying. But... but thinking of those things and what they’ve done to our world."
Deep hatred burst from his eyes, "No matter how frightening, we must go! My parents died during the ’Scarlet Moon Night’ when the evil god invaded; the Night Watchers took me in. Now, it’s my turn to repay with the demons’ blood!"
Aifan clenched his fist too, "Me too! Nine out of ten in the orphanage are because of those abyssal scum! Going means fighting hard!"
It’s not that every orphanage is like this, but the orphanages built by the Night Watchers are one batch after another.
The orphanage they used to stay at was likely built very early by the Night Watchers, probably around the time of the evil god invasion.
Various evil gods’ rituals, apostle descents; it was happening worldwide.
And the lunar nights they talk about were played out at different places every night at that time.
Depending on the encounters, there was a lot to resent.
Several warriors, seemingly better equipped and with steadier, more contained aura, walked in the midst of the rotation team; their sense of pressure reduced, although their eyes carried complexity.
"Roger, are we really retreating like this? Somehow... it feels unsatisfying." A male mage with a short magic staff at his waist and long, clean fingers whispered to his companion wearing a distinctive captain insignia beside him.
"Just touched the Level Ten threshold, felt the energy tide’s sensation cleared up quite a bit; was looking forward to dueling a legendary demon brat... damn this rules barrier."
He shrugged, strong regret in his tone.
Captain Roger was more relieved, pats his shoulder, "Saman, rules are rules. Level Ten is a hurdle, many were level ten before us, and who among them truly broke through? How many truly breakthrough?
"Trying to forcefully charge forward, the power gets mixed up easily, instead lost in chaos. Consolidation on the main plane is necessary. Insights from the Tower of Trial, combing soul power, refining combat skills... all require time.
"Killing demons in the abyss is merely a power accumulation furnace, not a staircase to the peak. Lord Karen, Lord Annabelle all came through like this; going back now is also preparation for heavier responsibilities ahead. Besides..."
He glanced at the busy logistics area and the recruits in the distance, "Returning safely at max level is in itself a victory."
The Night Watcher’s blessing could enable them to rapidly reach Level 10, this once unimaginable stage of power was already remarkable.
Expecting to directly reach Legendary through Night Watcher’s power is somewhat delusional.
Legendary is a hurdle across the entire Star Realm.
This is a fundamental rule.
Saman sighed, a smile still tugging at his lips, "Understand the logic... just regretting those kids won’t see me wreak havoc everywhere. Alright, heading back to crunch some books, soak in the meditation room. Hope the ’quietness’ of the main plane doesn’t soften the bones."
They were different from those rotating, their levels had reached the limit; they were returning to consolidate.
As for how long the consolidation would take, it depended on their own abilities.
Their relaxed conversation contrasted with Barret’s low complaints, yet both clearly conveyed the true state of the abyssal frontline: high-intensity pressure, helpless feelings towards rules, and preciousness of hard-won peace on the main plane.
On the other side, the officer in charge of scheduling rotation, looking at the lineup, loudly ordered the fully prepared new recruits, "Support the Blood Pit Fortress’s 7th new recruit regiment! Confirm sequence, equipment status! Three minutes to enter designated positions!"
"Roar!"
The young warriors gave a tidy but not particularly robust response, mixed with sounds of nervous swallowing.
Among the recruits, some instinctively checked if the runes on their weapons were lit, some touched the healing potions’ pouches on their waists, while others looked at the deep teleportation gate, with palms slightly sweating.
This military zone remained as busy as ever.
Massive robotic arms picked up fully loaded ammo containers, steadily placing them on the rail transport vehicles.
Record keeper Elton and Becca continued to check the list, Elton’s gaze occasionally drifting to the stiff backs of the recruits.
In front of the teleportation gate, the weary returning Night Watchers search for a temporary resting area like travelers shedding heavy loads.
Warriors about to venture into the abyss, on the other hand, stand like ore about to be cast into a furnace, with fear and belief stepping onto the fate’s threshold.
The air here is filled with the scent of iron, sweat, and a faint hint of gunpowder; it is neither purely a passionate battlefield nor a tranquil safe haven.
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