A different world game? A different world game!

Town Hall
Compared to the small size of other cave dwellings, the council chamber, though not grand, possesses its own understated solemnity.

At least this kind of building isn't half-buried in the ground; it looks much more proper and dignified.

Standing in front of the gate were several rabbits, led by the old town mayor.

The old town mayor was considered tall and robust among the rabbits. Although his hair and beard were gray, his posture remained upright. His face was etched with the marks of time and an old scar running diagonally across his cheek, silently proclaiming his identity as a "warrior."

Behind him stood several guards of the council chamber and a few young militia captains who had rushed over upon hearing the news.

These rabbit warriors, also clad in leather armor, gripped their javelins tightly or drew their bows halfway, their eyes filled with complex emotions.

It contains an innate fear of wolves, but deeper within it surges anger, humiliation, and the silent stubbornness of the oppressed.

They did not back down, their eyes fixed on the arrogant wolf riders, especially the dire wolf eyeing the cubs and the leader on its back giving orders; their eyes were filled with disgust and resentment.

Even a few young militiamen mustered their courage and glared back fiercely.

The wolf chieftain reined in the restless dire wolf, looking down at the overconfident "long-eared" creatures at the doorway.

His gaze finally landed on the old town mayor, and he spoke with undisguised contempt and an air of self-righteous command, his voice rough like the grinding of gravel.

“Old Rabbit, Imperial Chapter’s call to arms! Your ‘Turnroot’ tribe has three days to hand over forty strong adult warriors, the best kind of sentries. I think you guys are quite good.”

As he spoke, he pointed to the rabbit warriors at the door, and the rabbits who dared to glare at him.

"Take your bows and arrows and rations, and come with us to the Blackrock front!"

His gaze swept over the rabbit militiamen gripping their weapons, and he sneered, "Don't worry, I won't send you to charge into battle and waste... ah, to your deaths."

“You ‘sentinels’…aren’t you best at reconnaissance and acting as bait? The Empire needs you to ‘use your specialties’.”

The air seemed to freeze in the small open space in front of the council chamber.

Fear still lingers, but even heavier is the suffocating feeling under the rule of power and the silent, suppressed anger of the rabbit tribe.

Just like in human nations, the powerful and wealthy oppress ordinary people, and even serfs.

The same situation exists in the Orc Empire.

However, the exploitation here is more blatant because it is a direct form of oppression against certain ethnic groups.

Rabbit tribe, sheep tribe, chicken tribe.

These three groups, to some extent, represent the lowest stratum of the Orc Empire.

Among them, the rabbit clan stands at the very bottom.

They provide the largest labor force, cultivate the most arable land in the Orcish Empire, and then supply most of the fruits of their labor to other tribes.

Above that are the cat, fox, and dog races, which have a considerable population, each with its own unique characteristics, and whose combat strength is also quite high.

Of course, they also belong to the oppressed class, but the oppression is not as severe as that of the rabbit tribe.

Above that are the wolf clan and the leopard clan.

At the very top are lions, tigers, and elephants.

However, while the higher the level of the clan, the stronger its basic strength, the smaller its number.

The founding emperor of the Orc Empire was a lion.

……

the other side.

The rabbit girl, like a small cannonball, slammed open the half-closed wooden door of the Adventurers' Guild, which was carved with vine patterns.

She leaned against the door frame, her chest heaving violently, her long ears standing straight up in panic, the downy hairs standing on end.

She looks terrified.

"Grandpa Genio...sent me with a message..."

She was panting heavily, her round, red eyes anxiously scanning the dimly lit guild hall.

"Those hungry wolves...those wolf riders are back! In the council chamber! They're going to conscript more men! They even said...they said they'd pick two 'tender' ones for their dire wolves to feast on before they leave!"

The most terrifying thing for these little rabbits is being fed to dire wolves.

Because I had heard before that such things really happened.

The guild hall, which had been bathed in warm yellow light and filled with the aroma of alcohol, tobacco, and hushed conversations, suddenly fell into a cold, deathly silence.

Several rabbit-tribe adventurers who were leaning against the bar drinking suddenly turned pale, and the wooden cups in their hands crashed onto the table, spilling the murky liquor all over the floor.

The middle-aged bear-like owner behind the bar, who was wiping glasses, also stopped, his thick knuckles making the glasses creak.

In a corner of the hall, several figures who were checking the mission briefing simultaneously looked up.

They wore the Night's Watch's distinctive dark soft armor, with simple bronze torch emblems engraved on their shoulder armor.

The warm yellow light fell on them, but it seemed to be completely absorbed by the gray-blue hue that represented order and protection, leaving only a somber shadow.

The man in the lead wasn't particularly tall, but standing there he looked like a stubborn rock embedded in the earth.

His face was as hard as iron, with high cheekbones and deep-set eyes, which held a pair of eyes that looked as if they had been tempered by the leaping flames of a furnace.

This was Gertaire, the captain of the Night Watchers stationed at "Turnip Root".

His weathered face showed no expression; he simply put down the scroll in his hand.

"Where was it again?"

Gerthai's voice was not loud, but it was like the low hum of a blade rubbing against its sheath before being drawn, clearly piercing the silence of the hall.

"At the entrance to...the council chamber."

The rabbit girl tried to calm her breathing.

"Walk."

Gertai uttered only one word, grabbed the broadsword with a blood groove and a guard shaped like a burning torch, and inserted it into the hilt of his waist with a click.

Behind him, five Night's Watch warriors dressed in the same attire rose at the same time, their leather armor rustling softly. Without uttering a single unnecessary word, they silently and swiftly joined their captain, like a well-trained pack of wolves summoned by their alpha.

The atmosphere at the entrance to the council chamber had reached freezing point.

The old town mayor and several clan elders silently resisted the wolf rider's oppressive aura. Several young, spirited rabbit militiamen who dared to glare were stared at by the wolf leader, a burly dire wolf rider with ferocious claw scars on his face, his eyes filled with malice and mockery.

Although he was somewhat surprised by the rabbits' daring resistance during this conscription, he didn't care, because such verbal resistance was meaningless.

Perhaps even a rabbit will bite when cornered, but he completely disregarded the threat posed by these rabbits.

What's the point of the rabbit threat?

"Three days, just three days, forty strong men!" The wolf leader impatiently lashed his iron-armored leg guards with his whip, producing a piercing metallic clang.

The dire wolf's gaping maw was aimed at the young rabbit militiamen, its foul-smelling saliva dripping onto the soil.

"You guys... seem quite strong!"

He grinned, revealing gleaming white teeth, and pointed at the group with ill intent.

"My lord, please have mercy..."

An elderly rabbit pleaded in a trembling voice.

"There aren't many able-bodied men left in the tribe. Sixty were conscripted the year before last, forty-five last year... and forty-five more this year, but none of them have come back."

"They have elderly people and children to take care of at home, and their farmland too..."

Although their rabbit-themed town was not small, it was no match for such a conscription.

If we continue to impose conscription, all the young people will die. How can we possibly accept that?
"Shut up, you old man!"

The wolf leader abruptly interrupted, pointing the tip of his whip at the red-eyed rabbit youth who had just glared at him.

"No able-bodied men? What about him? His eyesight is excellent, isn't it? He's got guts! The empire needs 'warriors' like him! I think he's perfect as a scout!"

“He’s too young and inexperienced! And…and the town needs patrols too, with ferocious beasts and corrosive slimes on the edge of the forest…” the mayor explained with difficulty, his heart filled with sorrow.

In the past, there was no other way but to grit your teeth and accept your fate in such situations.

If the tribe fails to bring enough people, the entire tribe may face severe punishment, or even have more people forcibly conscripted.

Just as an atmosphere of despair was spreading, another completely different, chilling aura, like a cold winter current, swept in from the other end of the street.

The heavy metal soles of the boots struck the pavement with a uniform, unhurried sound, yet carrying the imposing force of a thousand armies.

The dire wolves beneath the wolf riders were the first to stir restlessly, baring their teeth and emitting low, warning growls.

They sensed a threat from the depths of their souls.

The wolf riders turned around sharply, and when they saw the newcomer, his dazzling gray-blue soft armor, and the torch emblem on his shoulder, their pupils instantly contracted into vertical slits.

The scarred wolf leader let out a low growl of surprise and uncertainty: "The Night's Watch?!"

Gertai led his squad straight through the rabbit-people who had split up again in fear, like a sturdy ship breaking through the waves.

They did not charge at the wolf riders, but calmly walked to the other side of the council hall, forming a pincer movement with the mayor and his entourage, effectively blocking the wolf riders from retreating into the main road in the town center.

"Captain Karen, you're in high spirits."

Gertai spoke, his voice deep and steady, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, yet strangely penetrating, his gaze sweeping over the tribal mark on the wolf leader's shoulder armor.

"I heard the Bloodfang Tribe is doing quite well on the White Stone Front? I never expected to see Crimson Howl's confidant in such a remote place as Turnip Root."

He accurately pinpointed the large tribe to which the other party belonged, and even mentioned the name of the tribe's notoriously cruel general.

Captain Karen, the wolf leader whose identity had been revealed, had a slight change in expression.

The Night Watch's intelligence was so accurate and so deeply ingrained in the internal affairs of the Orc Empire that it set off alarm bells in his mind.

He had only heard similar rumors before, and when he actually saw it, he was still somewhat surprised and uncertain.

The main problem is that he can't confirm whether what the Night's Watch is saying is true or false, because he himself hasn't received any relevant information back.

After all, this is on the other side of the Orc Empire, while the battlefront they are talking about is on the other side of the distant empire.

He had only just learned about this matter.

He suppressed the dire wolf's restlessness and his own suspicion, forcing himself to straighten his back, his tone rough and unfriendly, forced into a suppressed manner.

"Night Watch! This is an internal recruitment matter for the Imperial Legion! It's our own business as orcs! What does it have to do with you outsiders?"
"What do you mean by coming over here at this time? Do you intend to sabotage the Empire's conscription?"

He was trying to pin a huge label on him.

Although the Night's Watch is powerful now, it is not powerful enough to arbitrarily interfere in the internal affairs of various countries.

It's important to understand that many factions are extremely wary of the Night's Watch. If the Night's Watch were to engage in such blatant behavior at this time, it would inevitably trigger their suspicions.

Of course, the captain wouldn't understand any of this; he was just doing it out of habit.

Gertai's face remained expressionless, like a stone sculpture polished by time.

He didn't even answer Karen's question directly. Instead, he turned his head slightly and calmly spoke to the old town mayor standing behind Karen, who was instinctively protecting the young militiamen being targeted.

"No need to be nervous, old Wendell. We were on patrol at night when we heard that some prominent figures from the Imperial Warbands were visiting this border town."

"If you find it interesting, come and see for yourself the style of the wolf riders. You two continue talking, we'll just watch, don't worry about it."

He downplayed his "intervention" as simply "watching the show."

Just then, the two Night's Watch warriors behind Gerthai, who had always worn hoods, took a small half-step forward and lifted their hoods.

Beneath the hoods were two rabbit warriors!

Their distinctive long ears were particularly striking, their eyes were sharp and bloodshot, and their faces were cold as they swept over the wolf riders opposite them.

"Ok?"

Gertai seemed to only then notice the presence of the two rabbit-like subordinates, and said indifferently.

“Oh, look at my memory. Two of my teammates, Toru and Serra, are from Turnip Root.”

This is why they are stationed here. After all, they can be responsible for any node of the Orc Empire, so they might as well stay in the hometown of their team members.

It is easier to carry out the corresponding work if the team members themselves mediate the situation.

The result was very good; at least the town was extremely accepting of the Night Watch.

He paused, his gaze falling again on Karen, whose face was ashen. His tone became more forceful, as if he were stating a trivial yet undeniable fact.

"So, Captain, the term 'internal affairs' seems... not quite accurate when used in the hometown of Toru and Sera, the Night Watchers."

"Their home is also within what you call 'internal affairs,' isn't it?"

The Night's Watch's logic is clear and deadly.

The crucial issue is that while the wolf warriors are cunning, they can't quite grasp these overly intricate details.

Essentially, it seemed to make sense, and for a moment, no one knew how to refute it, since he was just a squad leader of a cavalry squad from a large tribe.

The presence of those two rabbit-like Night Watchmen instantly transformed what was "purely an internal orc matter" into a matter of "safety of the team members' homeland" that the Night Watchmen had the right to concern themselves with or even interfere with, or at least had a legitimate right to observe.

This is obviously unreasonable, but it doesn't matter if others don't understand it.

Karen nearly choked on her words, the scar on her face turning red and congested with anger, resembling a writhing centipede. (End of Chapter)