Chapter 1333 - 883: Expedition Team Interlude

Chapter 1333: Chapter 883: Expedition Team Interlude

Tariel Continent.

The air is so heavy it seems you could wring out the stench of blood and ashes.

This is one of the frontier war zones of the Tariel Continental Expedition.

A small outpost at the edge of the "Steel Broken Cliff" defense area.

Walking within the outpost.

Beneath your feet, the crimson soil is mixed with dried filthy blood, the twisted sap of plants corrupted by the Abyss, and the pungent ionized dust left from the annihilation of Void Creatures.

In the distance, the enchanted thorn forest casts a sinister silhouette under the dim sky, and further inside, in that unseen place, in that unreachable place, is the Gate of Void.

The relentless screeching and energy bursts come from that direction.

It is a symphony of death, where the Void Claw Beasts, Rift Hunters, and native Fierce Beasts like the "Heart-Wrenching Beetle" and "Bone-Eating Pangolin," corrupted deeply by chaos, slaughter each other.

Even though they tear each other apart, for the expedition, this land is still a thorn-filled hard bone that must be chewed.

But this is not easy.

It’s been almost half a year since the Vanguard Army of the Void invaded.

They’ve been stuck here for about half a year, the previously rapidly expanding expedition has been forced to halt.

Inside the camp.

Several sturdy canvas tents tainted with unknown stains surround the central magic energy furnace.

The furnace crackles with a stable blue flame, not only providing warmth but also driving a thin, rippling golden energy shield around the camp’s perimeter.

The shield barely separates the camp from the purgatory outside.

Yet the stench of iron, decaying organic matter, sulfur, and faint ozone stubbornly permeates, becoming the eternal background aroma here.

You’ll get used to it.

There will always be some stench here, this smell is already bearable.

"Huff... damn, this ghost place makes breathing feel like sipping poison soup!" A burly Beastman Warrior named Daniel. 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

The Beastman heavily drops his whetstone at his feet and spits.

He is wiping his gigantic axe, on the blade are several fine gray etch marks, clear proof of contact with Void Energy.

Even weapons datafied by the Night Watcher experience such effects.

This occurrence makes the weapon less than perfect, but it’s a necessary burden to oppose the Void Creatures.

Fortunately, the Night Watcher’s repair techniques are quite advanced now, not too troublesome.

But the weapon might not be passed down as a family heirloom, which is a pity indeed.

For Daniel, that’s the case, as he hoped that if he established a territory here, this weapon that defends the land could be passed down as a symbol.

These delusions must be set aside.

"I’d rather face those slimy sea monsters back in the Emerald Sea!"

The matter at hand vexes him enough.

Next to him, Elf Mage Leah carefully maintains her Magic Staff with enchanted velvet cloth, this thing may not be exceedingly valuable, but it certainly ranks higher than any sword or axe.

She snorts lightly, her voice typically calm but missing the tense edge of a few months ago.

"Save it, Daniel. At least now you get hurt, and you know where to crawl to, unlike Wolf and them back in the swamp, watching wounds rot, Neutralizer useless."

"But back then, there weren’t those damned purple, glittering, brain-piercing creatures."

"Those are Void Creatures, harbingers of doom."

"Oh yes, Void creatures; whatever, this damn thing is just bothersome, look at my precious axe, sigh."

"Hey, Leah’s right!"

A nimble Half-Elf Scout named Fercheck toys with a poisoned Dagger, jumping from the shadows with his usual jest.

"Remember the start of the fight? The shield would overload and smoke up, you had to boil bandages thrice, and an Intermediate Healing Potion would buy half a life!

"Night Watcher? Barely saw shadows, relying on us filling holes with our lives, running around like headless flies. Unlike now..."

He gestures with the dagger’s tip towards the camp’s central, shiny medical tent bearing the silver Night Watcher insignia, soft Healing Spell light and potion scent emanating from it.

"And yesterday, those called ’Soul Guardians’ settled into Broken Cliff stronghold, that ’Frost Touch’ Great Mage shattered a whole nest of corrosive worms, not a trace left.

"Supplies are plentiful, they cleared a safe transport road in one day, bandages, potions, even replacement enchanted arrowheads can be applied for."

An exhausted yet genuinely relieved Human Female Ranger named Martha responds, her bandaged arm resting as she leans against the furnace.

"Indeed, it’s not that hopeless anymore. Last time I was clawed in the shoulder by a shadowed panther; if it had been before, even if I didn’t die, my arm would be useless.

"But now? High Tier Healing Spell plus Night Watcher’s special healing ointment, three days of rest and I can barely pull a bow."

She pats her shoulder.

"Magic Energy Cannon’s charge crystal supply is ample, unlike when Captain Victor pioneered Black Stone Pass, nearly pulling his beard out in worry."