A different world game? A different world game!

The continent of Tet.

The elven village in the verdant forest has been turned into a living hell.

The once lush woodland is now tainted by a menacing, ever-expanding purplish-black void rift.

Cold, lifeless energy flowed through the cracks, stripping away life wherever it passed, twisting and drying ancient trees into tentacle-like crystals that exuded a corrupting aura.

Grorel, an elven elder whose strength was around level ten, stood at the forefront of the ruins. His ancient oak staff trembled violently as he squeezed out the last bit of magic power from his body to barely maintain a thin layer of "Tranquility Protection" magic circle.

The purplish-black light struck the magic array's light barrier, each impact making the elder's face even paler, his robes soaked with sweat.

As the strongest fighter here, he must put up a fierce fight.

Otherwise, his homeland would be overthrown and destroyed in an instant.

"Hold on! For the forest!"

Grorel screamed hoarsely, his voice so faint amidst the whispers of the void and the howls of monsters.

Deep within the fissure, swarms of crystal-footed insects and hissing creatures poured out in an endless stream.

The sharp limbs of the crystal-footed beetle tore through the air, leaving a corrosive purple trail. The shriek of the shrieker was like an invisible thorn, piercing the souls of all the elves.

Captain Kelas, the elven guard captain who once proudly refused to ask the Night's Watch for help, now had bloodshot eyes.

"Go to hell! You damned vermin!"

He furiously swung his elven longsword, slicing apart a crystal-footed worm that lunged at Farea; his movements were precise yet carried a desperate madness.

"Lisa—no!" A piercing scream came from behind him.

Keras turned around abruptly, his eyes wide with fury.

His young female elven archer, Lisa, was struck squarely by the howler's shriek.

Her screams abruptly ceased, her skin instantly covered in spiderweb-like purplish-black lines, her beautiful face contorted and stiffened, and her clear eyes were swallowed by empty darkness.

The destructive and corrupting influence of emptiness on the spirit is undeniable.

And this elf.

She is still very young, and she has never even traveled very far.

This suggests that time has not been a reliable test of her spirit.

She turned stiffly, raising her elven bow without emotion, the arrow aimed at her former companion—an elven warrior battling a crystal-footed worm.

She was infected.

Its spirit, shattered, was pieced back together by the pollution of the void and stained with an indelible purple.

New "infected persons".

Keras's regret was like a venomous snake gnawing at his heart.

"It's my fault! Damn pride! What have I done!" he roared in agony, his body instinctively lunging forward, his longsword piercing precisely into Lisa's corrupted heart with a mournful whistling sound as it tore through the air.

Filthy black blood splattered, and his empty eyes seemed to be mocking him.

This is not the first, nor will it be the last.

He killed his own compatriots who had been contaminated.

This will exacerbate emotional distress and trauma, and greatly reduce the will's resistance.

This is the void; its power is so, its irrationality so, its destructiveness so, its pervasiveness so.

Strike after strike, wave after wave, link after link.

It is irresistible and irresistible.

The corruption of the void becomes exceptionally rapid as the fissures expand.

The elven warriors fell one after another.

Some were severed at the waist by the segments of the crystal worm, their bodies enveloped in purple crystal infection within the distorted black mist.

Some, amidst the invisible spiritual pollution, burst into maniacal laughter, slashing their weapons at their companions until the elder, with all his might, unleashed a final purifying light, turning them to ashes.

The air was thick with the stench of rotting flesh and twisted crystals, mixed with desperate cries and the inhuman howls of void creatures.

Farea and Elian, with their backs against the semi-crystallized remains of an ancient tree, fought back fiercely.

Farea drew her longbow to its limit, and a vibrant green arrow, imbued with the power of nature, shot out, precisely shattering the core of a crystal-footed worm.

Elian wielded two short swords, his figure as swift as the wind, dodging and weaving amidst the attacks of several shrieking creatures. His sword flashed, slashing at the twisted throats that were trying to emit soul-piercing screams.

A faint golden glow appeared on their foreheads—a quiet spiritual protection they had gained after risking their lives to send a distress signal to the Night's Watch stronghold in Moonlight City, allowing them to barely stay conscious amidst the surging whispers of the void.

This is a gift from adventurers.

Or rather, this gave them the same mental resistance as the Night's Watch after they became adventurers, thanks to the same blessing they received.

Datafication can greatly enable people with poor mental resistance to at least gain the qualification to fight against the void.

“The Night Watchmen…they will come!” Farea gasped as she shouted, but as she looked at the surging enemy and the crumbling defenses, her resolve wavered.

The elven warriors were compressed into the rubble and ruins on the edge of the village, the ground beneath their feet eroded by purplish-black crystalline patterns, emitting a nauseatingly sweet smell.

This flavor is more of a manifestation of magic that has been corrupted.

A clawed war beast—an even stronger monster emerging from the expanding rift—let out a piercing shriek that tore through the mind, broke through the defenses, and its giant claws slammed down with a sharp sound that ripped through space.

Elder Grorel roared as he unleashed his final "Natural Purification," the emerald aura barely forcing the war beast back a few steps, but he also coughed up a mouthful of blood, his body swaying precariously.

With red eyes, Keras parried the beast's claws as it swung its sword again, then retreated to the elder's side, his voice trembling with heavy breathing and immense guilt.

"Elder... my blindness... destroyed our home... but I am willing to live and die with this place!"

He wanted these people to retreat, and he led some who were willing to stay to resist.

Consider it an atonement for one's arrogance.

Just as the elven defenses were about to collapse completely, a rapid and heavy hooves sounded from the forest.

Two well-equipped squads, like two sharp arrows, tore through the outer swarm of crystal-footed insects and rushed into the battlefield.

They are dressed in the Night's Watch's signature armor and ride specially bred and magically enhanced chocobos, making them swift and efficient.

Their running speed was enough to crush the first row of void creatures around them.

"The Night Watchers are here! Establish the node! Purge the void!" the captain, dressed in human attire, shouted sternly.

The two night watch squads demonstrated their excellent combat skills.

One team, with shield-wielding warriors at the forefront, blocked the attack, while the elven rangers in the back row used their "Demon-Slaying Arrows" to precisely target the Screamers.

Another team, led by human mages, constructed a shimmering energy barrier to temporarily block the purple light from the void, giving the elves a chance to catch their breath.

The chocobo's sharp cries and charge instantly disrupted the insect swarm's formation.

A surge of strength was finally injected into the desperate battlefield.

"Reinforcements! The Night's Watch has arrived!" Elian's spirits lifted, and a surge of strength seemed to well up in his weary body.

Although there weren't many people, only two teams came.

But the Night's Watch's strength is beyond doubt, and it also serves as a mental comfort.

At least it could restore the spirits' confidence, which were on the verge of collapse, and extend their time to resist the void. However, the deadly void rift suddenly trembled and expanded to its limit as if it were alive.

The edges of the crack, which had been chaotic, became smooth and solidified, rotating rapidly inward to form a deep, unfathomable dark hole.

The crack has been reinforced.

No more low-level creatures emerged; a pure, cold, terrifying pressure, born solely for destruction, swept over the entire area as if it were a tangible force.

Alarm bells rang in everyone's hearts.

A dark figure emerged from the now stable "door" without warning.

It was not a huge beast, but rather a humanoid figure with a slender and elongated body.

The limbs seem to be made of pure spatial shadows, with blurred and uncertain edges. They move silently, leaving only an elusive afterimage on the retina at the moment of movement.

"Level 11, Legendary!"

The captain saw it immediately and shouted loudly to remind everyone present.

The night watchmen who had just arrived felt a chill in their hearts.

A legend emerged from the rift...

This was something they couldn't withstand, and they weren't the Soul Guardians squad; they couldn't possibly withstand the legend of the Void with the strength of a squad.

But now there's no turning back.

This level eleven Void Legendary creature—the Shadow Scythe—is the embodiment of death.

It didn't even give the Night's Watchmen time to adopt a defensive posture.

Silence, slaughter, destruction.

Its blurry "arm" casually waved towards the first Night Watch squad to provide support.

Silently, yet several tiny, almost imperceptible black spatial rifts flashed by.

The next second, a terrifying scene unfolded.

The human warriors in the front row of the Night Watch squad, holding shields, suddenly had a bowl-sized, mirror-smooth hole appear in their chest cavity, piercing straight through their backs.

The health bar vanished instantly, wiped out in a single hit.

Before he could even show surprise on his face, his body was covered in purple cracks like shattered glass, and he fell to the ground.

Almost simultaneously, the elven mage in the squad also suddenly had a black line split open at the throat, and his life was extinguished instantly.

The half-elf thief who was about to throw a throwing knife felt a chill on the back of his neck, and his vision was plunged into eternal darkness as his head rolled to the ground.

All of them were fatal blows.

In an instant, the health bars of these night watchmen disappeared.

The Night's Watch was not given any time to react.

It fully demonstrates the destructive power of legend over legend.

In particular, he is also a legend of the void, representing destruction.

"Mark it! Quickly!" the surviving elven ranger in the squad roared in despair.

Just as Shadow Scythe's blurry figure was about to disappear again, a human Night Watchman warrior lying in the dust, with only half a charred hole in his chest, used his last strength to painstakingly draw an esoteric symbol in the air with his blood-stained fingers.

"Anchor!"

He roared out these last words with the last breath, and the flame of will in his eyes was extinguished instantly.

A faint yet remarkably stable starlight mark was firmly nailed to the ethereal core of the Shadow Scythe the moment it solidified again.

Marking successful.

But the price was the lives of half the Night Watch squad, and the warrior's body shattered and torn apart in the purplish-black light.

"Damn Void bastards!" The captain of another squad, an elven warrior, roared, brandishing his scimitar as he charged forward. "Avenge our brothers!"

The other Night's Watch warriors, filled with grief and indignation, launched a frenzied attack guided by the marker.

However, Shadow Scythe was only slightly restrained; the mark seemed to have angered it.

Its figure blurred again, and two beams of light from spatial rifts silently shot toward the charging warriors who were howling in pain.

"Clang—Pfft!"

Despite the timely deflection by a comrade's tower shield, the destructive energy contained in the beam of light instantly shattered the solid magic shield.

The Night Watch warrior with the shield groaned as his arm and shoulder armor were torn apart, blood splattering and purplish-black flesh bursting open.

The aura of death enveloped the entire battlefield.

"Demon! Get out of my forest!" A furious roar, imbued with the immense power of nature, resounded like a thunderclap in spring.

A dazzling silver-green light tore through the space at the edge of the battlefield, and a legendary elf, clad in star-inlaid vine armor and wielding two crescent-shaped blades, suddenly descended.

He is the guardian of the Verdant Forest, a level eleven elven swordsmanship master, Aindriel.

His presence here is purely coincidental; he was merely wandering, yet he is a legendary elf and the guardian of this place.

He sensed something was wrong when the power of the void began to corrupt him, and he rushed here desperately.

His sharp gaze instantly locked onto the deadly Void Assassin, and his figure joined the battle like a whirlwind.

"Void, you scum! What have you done?!"

One glance was enough to ignite his fury.

However, as soon as they clashed, Aindriel felt a chill run down his spine.

His speed has reached a state of perfection, which is the manifestation of his rules. However, the instantaneous movement and attack trajectory displayed by the Shadow Scythe in the marked state almost exceed the limits of physical perception.

His twin blades slashed through the afterimages, his fierce attacks only able to chase the marked illusions, while his opponent's space-tearing attacks were like leeches clinging to bones, and the slightest carelessness would result in decapitation.

Even more terrifying, the Elf Legend could clearly sense that each of the opponent's attacks carried a destructive force that eroded the very essence of life, causing even his powerful natural energy to feel sluggish and depleted.

He was deeply shocked: "Power on par with mine, but this destructive power... far exceeds common sense! Is this the true nature of the Void Destroyer?"

Is this the legendary being that brings about the end of the world?

"Its core is under its left rib! The marker is there! It solidifies for an extremely short time after each activation!" The heavily wounded Night Watch elf captain coughed up blood as he loudly relayed the crucial information to Aindriel.

"Hold on! Nail it down!" Another human Night Watch mage did his best to maintain the aura of the slowing spell.

Ayndrel's heart was stirred.

He looked at the Night Watchers around him, who came from different races and backgrounds, at their wounds, and at the corpses of his fallen comrades on the ground, which were being eroded and twisted by the energy of the void.

Looking into their eyes, there was no fear, only a firm will to protect... They were fighting a bloody battle for this forest that belonged to the elves.

For the creed of the Night's Watch, for the grand ambition of "saving the world".

Now, everyone knows the Night's Watch.

But he has never fought alongside the Night's Watch.

This belief is so powerful that it transcends the constraints of strength and the barriers between races! (End of Chapter)