Chapter 1267 - 852: Hellscape Map_2

Chapter 1267: Chapter 852: Hellscape Map_2

Listening to every word Teresa spoke, his eyes, hidden beneath deep brows, were as sharp as steel tempered by fire, firmly fixed on the holographic map with those four glaring, crimson coordinates like festering ulcers.

He didn’t respond immediately, instead unconsciously rubbing his rough, scarred and calloused fingers over the scabs on his beard, until his fingertips turned slightly pale.

"Ha... Four... Four poisonous nails... ruthlessly driven into the heart and lifeblood of this damn continent..."

He finally spoke, his voice hoarse and deep, like two rusty pieces of steel grinding against the sandy ground, each syllable carrying the fatigue and smell of gunpowder from battles fought on the front line.

He turned slightly, his gaze like cold spikes piercing the grave face of his adjutant Agni beside him—a human officer usually calm and steady, now marked with worry and deep, alarming dark circles.

"Mother Earth... Agni!"

Lurik’s voice suddenly rose, filled with undeniable anger, causing a nearby operator to tremble, almost pressing the wrong rune.

"Immediately! Borrow! Request! Issue a highest priority coordination to Ring Tower City! Rely on this damned ’Silent Eye’?" He raised his thick arm abruptly, slamming a fist into the solid armor plate beside him with a loud, dull thud, causing the entire surveillance hall to tremble.

"It’s like a blind drunk on Dwarf spirits! Its detection radius can’t even penetrate the dense mist under our noses! Can’t tell if it’s a worm, a phantom, or some damn lava maggot taking a bath emerging from the western lava trench!"

He panted, exhaling a breath with the smell of rust, the weight of responsibility seemingly materializing as a tangible mass pressing on his broad shoulders.

"Intelligence loss! Agni! This is putting us all on the knife’s edge! A blind man commanding a lame army to fight!"

Agni forcefully shut his eyes, as if digesting the storm of orders coming at him.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on the panels flashing red—especially the sharp zigzag line graph representing the expedition’s advancement and retreat.

"Seventh Expedition Team... Report to the Expedition Army General," his voice struggled to remain steady, though the tremor slipped in at the end.

"Three days ago, they ran head-on into the eruption point of the ’Ashen Gorge’ rift directly from another direction... The coordinates shifted by three kilometers, a fatal deviation.

"Consequently, the two-hundred-kilometer buffer zone was completely pushed back. Losses... heavy, more than thirty percent reduction..." He swallowed dryly, his throat parched.

"However..."

He paused, pointing to the projection of dirty purple-black and the continent’s usual greenish murk swirling together.

"Monitoring shows, Corrupted Moss Marsh native beast packs and Void Biters... they’re attacking each other mindlessly! Just like... two opposing magnets madly locked in combat, forming instead an unexpected, dynamic death buffer zone within the contaminated area."

He pointed at the map’s jagged dividing line made up of changing icons, "They’re attacking each other there."

Lurik let out an extremely short and piercing cold laugh, like metal being torn apart alive. "Chaos and Destruction... a grinding disc forged with flesh and blood!"

He pointed at the nauseating confluence on the projection.

"Look! Look at these ’good neighbors’! The Void wants to drag this continent into eternal emptiness, destroying everything alive upon it. But these indigenous evil bastards..."

His facial muscles twitched, whether in disgust or some indescribable schadenfreude, "Their blood, their flesh, even fragments of their souls have long been marinated in the inherent corrupt magic and primordial chaotic law of this land.

"This is not mild stuff! Void corruption is indeed terrifying, but judging by the energy readings, it should just be a rift, not overwhelming enough in power to transform these already corrupted creatures."

The reason the Talriel Continent became this way was originally because the Dwarves and allied forces of various races fought against the Abyss Demons invading here.

It’s been stained with Abyssal chaos long ago, and in recent years, exacerbated by the remnants left by a defeated Evil God and a dead Evil God.

The Void, inherently a manifestation of destruction, despite its strong will to transform life, ultimately isn’t the embodiment of corruption.

Without overwhelming power advantages, the frenzied environment of this region can instead withstand.

His finger jabbed at the foul green masses representing Chaos Beast packs: "Throwing stinky Goblins into a pool of ravenous piranhas. The energy level of Void erosion... Humph, still insufficient to completely ’purify’ the chaotic malign thoughts rooted deep in their bloodline.

"These two troublesome oddities collided, each thinking they are the Dominator of this scorched land! Performing a life-and-death feast!"

Fortunate amidst misfortune.

His bloodshot eyes were fixated on the map where the regions of purple-black and foul green eroded and offset each other, the sight both terrifying and carrying a bizarre sense of balance.

"Damn it, even heaven doesn’t know whether this should count as a good thing or not!"

He initially wanted to curse more, but then felt his awkward words seemed somewhat disrespectful.

Lurik spat a mouthful of spit filled with a strong rust flavor with a fierce expression, "But this damn it is indeed our only chance to catch a breath right now! They’re dismantling each other’s bones and gnawing at each other’s flesh! Let this grinding disc of flesh and blood slowly turn! The longer it turns, the more damn time it gives us!"

The adjutant listened silently by the side.

How to put it, it feels like Lord Lurik has become increasingly crude; can’t say he was gentle before, but at least he could be considered a wise man.

Now he’s purely a war character.

A Dwarf Sage didn’t learn any vulgarity from the Dwarves, but was instead influenced by these adventurers.

Of course, it is indeed the pressure and anger and the surrounding environment that stoked a fire inside Lord Lurik’s heart.

After Lurik finished speaking, his eyes, seemingly capable of perceiving darkness and chaos, slowly lifted.

The gaze seemed to pierce through the heavy crystal wall window of the Floating Tower, directly spanning several dozen kilometers.

It landed on that ceaselessly booming frontline—there, the triforce slaughter was ongoing.

The area Lurik was now concerned with.

The "Steel Broken Cliff" defense area.

Perhaps now it could be called the flesh and blood mill, the area of triforce slaughter.

The view went through the air filled with black-purple energy miasma and faint green rotting scent, directed toward the so-called "Steel Broken Cliff" defense area.

Originally a dense, suffocatingly toxic thicket, a month of brutal slaughter has completely flattened, crushed, and burned it, ultimately turning it into a barren, scorched slaughter ground.

Temporary fortifications no longer appeared "temporary," with hefty prefabricated armor plates, locally sourced dwarf stone walls, and jagged metal railings encrusted with crystal fragments piled up to form kilometers of jagged battlefront.

To put it bluntly, no one believes this line is the work of the Night Watchers.

But the fact is, this is the defensive line temporarily erected by the Night Watchers, or rather, the Expedition Army.

To construct something like this is evidence of how fierce the fighting is here, fierce to the point that even building normal defenses is challenging.

The walls of these fortifications themselves create an abstract wall painting of extreme bloodshed and chaos.

Dark purple viscous void contamination spreads extensively like ink splashes; the land and surrounding environment crystallized by purple crystals, with black cracks running through them.

Everything gives a feeling of desolation and destruction.

The moss green, foul-smelling Chaos Magical Beast blood splattered about like eerie moss, caused by those insane local creatures.

In their madness, they reject all intruders, chaotically battling with the intent to kill all living void entities.

Fresh or dried black human blood was scattered here and there, shocking upon sight.

Not to mention the dried beast skin fragments hanging on alloy spikes, the massive compound eyes stuck in armor seams not yet rotted, and the entrails buried in the deep mud unidentifiable.

The whole battlefield exudes a stench that turns the stomach inside out.

The intense corpse stench, sulfur-like burning smell of crystal clusters, the sickly sweet odor produced by rupturing viscera, the acidic swamp’s toxic gases mixed with the acrid smell of purification explosive smoke, collectively make up the "tone" of this land of death.

One might as well describe it as a hellish illustration.