Chapter 1304 - 869: The Road to the Fortress (2)

Chapter 1304: Chapter 869: The Road to the Fortress (2)

But it will never be like Kana, who praises warriors and gives various blessings after the war, even helping them repair disabilities.

"Legends are exaggerated, but the core metrics align with logic." Node-07’s voice was a synthetic electronic sound, calm and steady.

"The tactical report from Blood Pit Fortress shows its unit loss recovery rate is far higher than Blood War Fortress’s average value of 98.73%, with a huge consumption of logistical supplies, especially purification potions and healing potions.

"This indirectly confirms it possesses powerful recovery methods and a strong support chain at the rear. Regarding the ’Data Rule’ established by Venerable Kana, the combat efficiency enhancement model is currently under analysis."

From a purely logical and intelligence analysis perspective, he verified that legend is not without basis.

Just like their appearance, this is a highly intelligent lifeform, akin to artificial intelligence.

It may, of course, be a product of alchemical creation.

Aryan nodded: "The veterans who returned earlier also mentioned, the ’Pure Light Filter’ constructed by the Venerable managed to outright block the polluted blood rain from the cut body of the Evil God.

"The support capacity of that logistics system, they envied it... That enormous construct covered a wide area, and according to reliable intelligence, it should be able to provide protection, purification nurturing, post-war repair... Alas!"

He sighed, rubbing his temples sore from long-term tension.

"The supply line of Blood War Fortress is getting longer and longer. Every time we argue with those old foxes of the commerce association, Brok’s temper is about to smash the table.

"If only we could open a channel to directly buy their goods as Lord Ferian suggested... especially those potions..."

All three others couldn’t help but feel a wave of mental fatigue rising.

The continuous slaughter, harsh environment, and uncertainty of the future are swords hanging over their heads.

Every post-battle rest feels like a drowning person’s brief gasp for air.

Gron squeezed his sore shoulder hard, while Sofia reined in the enchanting field that inadvertently leaked out, a trait inherent in her bloodline.

Even the vents of Node-07 seemed to make a slight humming noise.

The imprint of the blood war is deeply stamped on the body and soul of each warrior still able to walk on the scorched earth.

Just then, several twisted, foul-smelling timid demons and small demons suddenly emerged from the crack in the ground ahead.

Sighting living beings, these lowest demons roared and rushed forward, their eyes filled only with chaos and slaughter.

"Hmm, appetizer! Just to loosen up!"

Gron roared, not waiting for orders, and his gigantic warhammer whistled as it swung first, smashing a demon at the front into a pulp with overwhelming force, pieces of foul blood and remnants leaving a burning trail in the air.

Sofia’s silhouette flitted like a phantom, her short energy whip precisely aimed, instantly shattering the head of a small demon, and the weak order energy at the tip caused discomfort to nearby demons.

"Truly... a filthy greeting." Her voice carried undisguised disgust.

Aryan’s rapier became a blur of light and shadow in his hands, elf elegance and deadly prowess merging into one, the sword tip swiftly piercing throats and hearts, each strike dismantling the demons’ pitiful attacks with precision.

Node-07 didn’t even deploy shoulder cannons, just raised an arm, and two high-speed vibrating wrist blades instantly extended.

Like a precise harvester, he efficiently and neatly sliced apart the approaching demons, his metal body unwavering, efficient and cold.

The battle was over in an instant, leaving only a few pools of filth quickly "digested" by the sulfuric soil.

"Damn it, it’s endless..." Gron spat, habitually poking the demon corpse with his hammer handle.

"Strange."

Aryan sheathed his rapier, scanning around with sharp eyes.

The strange thing was not that there were demons here.

"According to our distance from Blood War Fortress, this kind of harassment density should have decreased... too much."

This time encountering demons in the abyss was quite normal, but having only a few of these small creatures seemed a bit too little.

Could it be they were lucky today?

As they continued towards Blood Pit Fortress, this abnormal feeling grew more pronounced. ℯℯ𝑙.

Demons’ tracks suddenly became sparse, whereas theoretically they should have increased, then only decreased afterward. This still depended on whether Blood Pit Fortress had the capability to clear the surrounding demon density to some extent.

The scent of sulfur still hung heavily in the air, yet the omnipresent, unsettling whispers of chaos and the feeling of being watched seemed to have noticeably diminished, as if some invisible barrier had filtered them out.

This indicated that the forces of order here were somehow mingling and counteracting the forces of chaos.

The surrounding environment no longer teemed with malicious "vitality"; instead, it manifested a kind of scorched yet... relatively tranquil dead silence.

Just as everyone was puzzled by this, a small, orderly patrol team appeared in view from behind the hills on the flank.

They were riding a type of keen-eyed, tall land bird armored with light metal plates, moving with light and powerful steps.

Aryan immediately signaled the team to halt, making clean and crisp gestures to indicate his identity.

The opposing team skillfully broke formation, maintaining a safe distance, while their leader approached on his mount.

Aryan could clearly feel the scrutinizing gaze of the other party — calm, vigilant, without malice but full of professional cold assessment.

Was this the patrol team of the Blood Pit Fortress?

Because he had seen the mark on their armor.

Elite, absolutely elite!

The shock in Aryan’s heart was not small.

He almost instantly determined that each member of this entire five-person patrol team was honed to the pinnacle of mortal life, only a crucial step away from stepping onto the Path of Legends.

After all, he himself was a legend, naturally clear to understand and see this.

Such level of existence was a backbone in the Blood War Fortress army, rarely used together for perimeter patrol tasks!

Their equipment was what truly solidified the gaze of the Blood War Fortress envoy members.

Uniformly themed, yet perfectly switching between soft and heavy armor according to the role.

The main body was gray-black, made of a resilient composite material armor, with faint yet dense energy runes flowing clearly on it, appearing and hiding as if breathing.

The inner lining hugged the body, outlining the streamlined silhouette of a warrior, without an ounce of excess to impede movement.

The weapons were diverse — one carried a giant sword, another wielded dual blades, one had a crossbow cannon of peculiar design, while the mage held a gemstone-encrusted short staff, and a close-combat fighter wore knuckle dusters.

These pieces of equipment were obviously tailored to individual combat styles, yet the material, craftsmanship level, and enchantment grade were uniformly at a high-end level.

For armor customization alone was already a display of significant power.

What truly made these experienced abyss warriors gasp were those details: the tactical pouches around the waist, with the mage clearly sensing the spatial fluctuations emanating from them — these were no simple pouches.

Even more striking were the two or three potion tubes of various colors, gleaming with an exquisite shimmer, fastened securely to the pouch’s exterior or the edge of the shoulder armor, ready for the quickest retrieval and use, far beyond the troublesome method of reaching into space equipment.

The mage’s eyes were almost transfixed — rapid healing, physical recovery, magic power replenishment, even instant purification?

The logistical support and battlefield philosophy behind this equipment setup surpassed the average imagination of the Blood War Fortress.

Are they that wealthy?

"Order... pure, efficient order."

Sofia murmured softly, feeling the faint yet incredibly resilient aura of order emanating from them, its repulsion against the abyssal environment, and the indescribable suppression on her chaotic bloodline.

She cautiously restrained herself further.

"Strict discipline, superbly equipped, there’s nothing trifling behind them."

The dwarf Brok rarely refrained from grumbling, his gaze fervently sweeping over those armors, runes, and innovative potion hook devices, filled with the unique dwarven appreciation for fine craftsmanship and a hint of concealed envy.

"Like... the Imperial Guards in our own Empire. The realm behind that... must be a behemoth."

After declaring their identity and mission, the patrol captain nodded slightly, his voice steady and clear: "Destination Blood Pit Fortress? Follow this charred stone path straight ahead, five kilometers. The perimeter area has been cleared, but please remain vigilant."

Without any excessive formalities, the patrol team turned sharply and continued their vigilance duties, their towering armored land birds striding powerfully into the reddish-brown mist, leaving the Blood War Fortress envoy to process the overwhelming impact of this initial contact.

Aryan took a deep breath of the still hot but seemingly "cleaner" air: "Let’s go. The truth, is just ahead."

With a blend of expectation, doubt, and deeper shock, they quickened their pace.