A different world game? A different world game!

A squad of Soul Guardians moved through the crowd like ghosts, their figures swift and stealthy.

Ahead, newly delivered supplies were piled up like mountains at the camp entrance.

The surrounding covenant members were already used to this.

The Night's Watch has always been like this, with supplies seemingly inexhaustible; they have never experienced such a "rich" war before.

Seven men in black robes quietly climbed to the top of the supply pile. The captain, who was in charge, lifted his hood, revealing a face covered with cursed runes.

He picked up a strangely shaped lens and carefully scanned the supplies, making sure that they were not mixed with those hateful evil god items.

This is an essential screening process. Even though the supplies have undergone multiple screenings before arrival, the Soul Guardians still need to check them one last time.

These are invaluable experiences gained through countless tears and blood. After all, no one dares to underestimate the methods of those evil gods.

On a small hill outside the camp, Blake, Lelia, and a group of commanders stood.

From their elevated position, they had a commanding view of the entire battlefield on the plains.

Although the Night's Watch was equipped with detailed maps and various magical artifacts, which were enough for them to have a full grasp of the battlefield situation, Black still retained his old habit of taking the commanders to high places to observe and also walking around the battlefield in person.

"How's the team assembly going?" Leilia asked from behind.

Upon hearing this, Blake glanced at Leilia, who was staring straight at him.

Seeing her like this, Blake shook his head helplessly: "Logically, I should be asking you that." He couldn't help but complain.

All these years have passed, but Leilia's personality hasn't changed at all.

Hearing this, Lelia shook her head in annoyance: "I'm not good at this. My job is to lead an elite squad into the rat horde, take down the leaders, and wipe out all those damned demons."

It was for this reason that she was transferred to the front lines and placed under Blake's command, temporarily separating her from her own squad.

As for Apis, she had already become a legendary powerhouse. Given the special nature of her profession, coupled with Apis's outstanding strategic thinking, she led the remaining squad members as commanders on another battlefield.

“Then you’d better study hard, otherwise you’ll still just be a combat master,” Blake said.

Apis is already a tactical master, while Leilia is still stuck at the combat master stage, and she doesn't care about it at all.

At that moment, she turned her head away disdainfully. In her opinion, there was not much difference between being a combat master or a tactical master.

She knew her own capabilities; her mission was to be a vanguard and the spearhead of the team.

Blake had known Lelia for a long time and naturally understood her thoughts; he was just giving her a friendly reminder out of habit.

After all, he was extremely busy, while Lelia spent her days wandering around the camp with her weapons.

Leilia didn't want to talk about these topics; she thought they were meaningless and would just let them go in one ear and out the other.

At that moment, she noticed the small flags that Blake was wearing on his waist.

"What is that? I've seen you fiddling with it a lot lately."

"What? Oh, you mean this? It's kind of an experiment."

"A legendary attempt?" Leilia asked curiously.

Blake nodded: "That's right, I've been stuck at level ten for far too long. I've been trying to build up the foundation I lacked due to my rapid advancement, but I'm still stuck here."

"Then you should go find those priests, right? Aren't you the first person in the Night's Watch to wield the Holy Light?" Lelia asked疑惑地.

"That being said, I am still a member of the Night's Watch. Although I have received the blessing of the Holy Light, everyone's legendary path is unique."

“There is no fundamental difference between legendary experts of the Holy Light Church and ordinary legendary experts,” Blake explained simply.

Leilia didn't quite understand these things, but simply nodded; she had only asked out of curiosity.

Then she listened as Blake began discussing tactical preparations with the others.

Leilia's gaze fell upon the camp below. The camp was bustling with activity, people coming and going.

The veterans of the coalition forces silently sharpened their weapons.

A one-eyed snake-man smeared dirt he had stolen from his homeland onto the blade of his knife and hummed a funeral dirge under his breath.

Their home was behind the rats' defenses, and they had been forced to abandon the city and flee.

Now, years have passed, and they have finally ushered in the moment to reclaim their homeland. It is time to ignite the flames of revenge against those despicable rats.

Several paladin apprentices were behind a tent, wiping the dull runes on their armor with holy water, when an old paladin passing by kicked over their buckets.

"Use it sparingly!" the old paladin shouted, the blood and grime on his feet sizzling as the holy water burned. "Once we break into the fortress, you'll have to use this holy water to extinguish the ratmen's poison pots—do you want to be roasted to a crisp?"

The paladin apprentices stood awkwardly in place, receiving a reprimand.

A heavily armored priest following behind the old paladin said with a smile, "Don't be so harsh on the young people. Those church members who join the Night's Watch will ensure an ample supply of holy water."

Hearing his old friend undermine him, the old paladin turned around and glared at him.

It was just a habit; he had always been extremely cautious about using holy water, and it was something he found hard to change.

Since cooperating with the Night's Watch, the supply of holy water has indeed never been short.

But he just couldn't stand the waste. Alas, times are changing too fast, and he couldn't help but feel a little lost.

The old pastor chuckled and patted him on the shoulder: "Stop reminiscing, this isn't like an old man like you."

"Bullshit, I have no feelings about it!"

The two of them left, exchanging insults and hurling curses at each other.

As dusk gradually enveloped the fields, information flew rapidly through the Night's Watch's internal channels.

Blake stood in the command camp, looking at the sand table and referring to the map.

He also had a dedicated night watchman who would select important information to report to him.

“It has begun.” Blake muttered to himself, his gaze sweeping across the camp—he saw the Holy Light Bishop raise his sun staff high, and a dazzling flame shot into the sky, burning a blinding hole in the thick clouds.

The snake-man warriors lit their potion-soaked arrows, the pale purple flames illuminating the old scars on their scales.

At this moment, Leilia planted the giant halberd into the ground, her eyes seemingly burning with raging fire, and the veins on her neck bulged instantly, like writhing snakes.

A ghostly blue power, like a shadow, swirled around her body.

In the distance, within the fortress built of filth, the horns of the rat-man fortress suddenly roared deafeningly, and swarms of rats surged forth from the cracks in the walls like a black tide.

That's right, the rats launched the attack first while on the defensive.

Although it is unclear what their reasons were, the increasing troop deployments at the front lines were clearly making the rats increasingly anxious.

The Night Watch cut off almost all of the rats' "observation" of the outside world. They could only vaguely see the camp expanding day by day, but knew nothing about the specific situation inside.

It seems they plan to launch a surprise attack tonight, just to find out the current situation of the Night's Watch camp.

"Did you hear that?"

Leilia drew her massive halberd, its tip razor-sharp, pointing it directly at the blood-red, churning night sky.

The bells of an enemy attack rang throughout the camp.

This is their death knell—

The last gust of wind on the plains of Brucal, carrying the roars of millions, surged headlong towards death. (End of Chapter)