A different world game? A different world game!

Although the Elf District is the most peaceful, that is only relatively speaking.

Walk to the other side, and you'll reach a corner near the city wall.

It was a "rough" residential area.

One enormous creature after another roamed through the area, but the majority of them were minotaurs.

"The Tauren are the main force on this level of the Bloodbath battlefield," said Judgment Mist.

"Why?" Kana asked curiously.

"Historical issues: it is said that the 1121st floor was once a major world of the Minotaur."

I see, then it's not surprising.

The Minotaur camp was filled with a rugged sense of power.

They built simple but sturdy huts using huge stone pillars and animal hides.

The minotaur warriors were sharpening their massive double-edged battle axes and totem poles in the open space, the scraping sound of stone scraping against metal filling the air.

Heavy footsteps and low mooing conversations were their main sounds.

Several minotaur shamans sat around a small campfire, chanting ancient war songs in rough voices. The drumbeats were deep and powerful, like the heartbeat of the earth.

Living alongside the Minotaur were other "primitive" races with similar customs who also worshipped totems and ancestors.

It's not that they lack wisdom or have primitive lifestyles, but rather that they cherish ancient ways of life.

Many worlds in the astral plane are like this.

Such a world implies a more prominent global will, so one should not underestimate their "primitive" nature.

Their use of the world and the natural forces of the earth was extremely exaggerated.

According to the Fog of Judgment, the stability of the entire camp was due to these totem-worshipping primitive creatures, which was also largely thanks to the Minotaur.

This was, after all, their former world. Even though it had been swallowed by the abyss, after reclaiming a portion of it, they could still awaken some of its power and tear apart the chaos of the abyss.

Not far from here is an extremely noisy area, not the kind of noise of dwarves, but a different kind of pure noise—the gathering place of orcs.

The orcs here are not the kind of beastmen that Kana lives in, but rather the kind of savage creatures that Kana has seen in entertainment works, with sharp teeth and brown, gray or green skin.

The entire area was always filled with rude shouting and the clamor of gladiatorial combat.

They were keen on training in combat with captured demonic weapons in makeshift gladiatorial pits, where the sounds of clashing metal, roars, and the enthusiastic cheers of onlookers filled the air.

The orc goblin servants screamed as they weaved between the orcs' thick legs, carrying food or ammunition.

Even though they were inside the camp, they acted as if the war had never stopped.

Some orcs with missing hands and blind eyes were also among them, roaring and fighting despite their injuries.

This is true rudeness.

Besides these main races, there are all sorts of other creatures that live alongside them in the city.

Winged elves and harpies darted through the limited airspace within the fortress, their flapping wings creating gusts of air.

They landed on towering towers or platforms, quickly reporting the movements of the demons detected from the air, and then took off again, disappearing into the blood-red sky.

Some energy-based or material-based life forms roamed the city, occasionally eliciting shouts of discontent.

Language here is a noisy torrent.

The melodious tunes of Common Tongue and Elvish, the harsh guttural sounds of Dwarven, the deep echoes of Tauren, the furious roars of Orcs, the sharp chirps of Goblins…

Various languages ​​and dialects collide and intertwine in narrow streets, crowded squares, and noisy pubs.

Body language and simple, universal vocabulary serve as bridges for cross-racial communication.

"I believe you have also felt it. The reason why these people, who speak different languages, can communicate with each other is because the power of the [Speech Communication Star] is manifested here."

That was also a god of low divine power, and not good at fighting.

But just by looking at his divine name, one can know his main duties.

It wasn't an individual life form, but rather a living shooting star. However, while language was now fluent, this didn't mean that conflicts would be less frequent with so many races mixed together.

Conflicts are everywhere.

An elven apothecary might shriek in protest because the soot from a dwarven forge had contaminated his crucible.

A tauren warrior accidentally knocked over an orc's wine barrel, immediately triggering a shoving and roaring.

The goblins in the caravan tried to cheat during the trade, but were grabbed by the ear and berated by the experienced dwarf guards.

But these conflicts are often brief and intense, quickly quelled by patrolling guards or resolved by the pressure from a common enemy—the endless demons outside the fortress.

A thousand years of fighting side by side has forged a distorted tacit understanding.

In this context, conflict is ever-present.

This is one of the reasons why the Scholar was stunned when it saw the situation in Kanah's world.

It's truly remarkable that so many races living in one world haven't utterly destroyed it.

And in the middle of the city is the most important place.

The reason this fortress was built, the purpose of so many races participating in the blood war, and the source of supplies that those astral forces were willing to transport—the marketplace of the Abyss.

The heart of the fortress is a vast, honeycomb-like central plaza, a chaotic yet bustling abyssal market.

The first thing that catches the eye is the huge market of vendors.

The stalls were piled high with "specialties" from the battlefield: huge, twisted demon horns (used as weapon materials or decorations), carapace fragments gleaming with an eerie light (used for forging armor), viscous demon blood (used for certain spells or poisoning), strange ores containing abyssal energy, and even organs still pulsating faintly, peeled from demons (used for forbidden potions or research).

Not only materials from the Abyss, but also items that are banned in certain worlds can be bought here. This place is practically the largest black market in the entire Astral Plane.

You can't expect everyone here to be a good person or a guardian of order.

The vendors hawked their wares in exaggerated tones, while the buyers carefully examined the purity of the materials and the dangerous energy they contained.

You can also see many treacherous deals hidden in the shadows, with the abyss serving as a transit point for their transactions and exchanges.

Among them, the most eye-catching is the live demon trading zone.

In the sturdy, rune-engraved metal cages are imprisoned low-ranking demons, berserkers, and even occasionally, freaks bound by multiple chains and anti-magic runes, as well as succubi, lust demons, and lewd demons, which are extremely popular among many races.

They roared, banged on the cage, and spewed sulfurous fumes and foul language.

Buyers are usually mages, nobles, training grounds that need live targets, or those who require certain special rituals.

The transaction was accompanied by the shrieks of demons and the vigilant shouts of the watchmen.

Of course, it's possible for the demon to escape, but it would be subdued on the spot. Where do you think this is?
However, after subduing it, no one knows whose demon it is, but it certainly wasn't the original owner's.

In addition to the regular workshops in the dwarf district, the market perimeter is also filled with numerous temporary stalls.

Beside a makeshift furnace, a blacksmith hammers away at repairing weapons.

At the medicine stalls, suspicious liquids of various colors bubbled in bottles and jars, and the stall owners confidently promoted potions that could "instantly stop bleeding," "enhance strength," or "resist the corrosion of the abyss," with effects often varying from person to person.

It's best to check the other party's race before making a move.

The entire fortress camp was like a giant machine operating on the edge of a volcano.

The air was polluted, filled with the smells of sulfur, sweat, cheap liquor, medicine, and blood.

The ground was covered with a thick layer of mud, a mixture of soil, coal ash, and grime left by various ethnic groups.

The light primarily came from the firelight of the furnace, the illumination from the magic crystals, and the ever-present crimson glow of the blood clouds reflected in the outer walls of the fortress.

There is no true peace here, only brief and noisy respite between bloody battles.

Everyone acted swiftly, preparing for survival and the next battle.

This twisted yet vibrant "daily life," formed on the brink of destruction, is the unique landscape of the Bloodbath Fortress that has endured for millennia.

What's daily life like on the battlefield?

"This is truly eye-opening." (End of Chapter)