A different world game? A different world game!

The Battleship Harbor, a steel marvel that rose from the "Expeditioner," has now expanded into a suffocating behemoth.

He was once just a warship that landed on land to form a temporary port camp.

And now.

It is already a giant port city.

It has spread wildly along the coastline, far exceeding the original planned boundaries.

The golden dome that once symbolized order and protection—that suspended ironwork structure.

Although it still hangs high above the city center, its light purifies the air in the core area day and night, and soothes the spirits of the weary.

Within the barrier, the faint, pervasive aura of frenzied energy effectively vanished from the entire continent.

However, its coverage has long been left far behind by the expansion of cities.

Originally, the dome covered a very large area; when it was first opened, the warship port was at most located on the side edge of the city.

Now, however, it can no longer completely cover the entire city.

Beyond the dome lies a chaotic, hastily pieced-together scene.

The endless temporary tents resembled a creeping fungus, while the mountains of prefabricated modules and various building materials resembled hills of steel.

The air was filled with unpurified dust, the smell of sweat, and a faint, acrid smell of burning from the distant battlefield.

Only the core urban area, shrouded in ironwork, with its sturdy buildings erected in just two or three years by the incredible construction capabilities of the building structure, can be considered the true internal organs and skeleton of this "city".

But at this moment, they are already packed full of people and functions, leaving no room for anything else.

This city is too crowded.

Even with such a large size, it still felt extremely crowded.

The daily flow of people to and from this city has exceeded its capacity.

Congestion and chaos inevitably ensued.

At the heart of the city, adjacent to the now multiplied deep-water port area, the original giant ship "Expeditioner," which served as its base and was "erected" from the sea onto the land, stands like a silent steel mountain.

Surrounding it is the heart of the entire expedition to the continent of Taril.

The Night Watchers' mission hall still uses the familiar "Adventurer's Home" style, with its light screen constantly flashing.

The large expedition service center addresses all expedition-related issues, including the formation and reception of new expeditions.

The core hub responsible for allocating tasks in the development zone has a daily task of dealing with various adventure groups and adventure groups representing different factions, while also evaluating their development zones.

In addition, countless offices representing different departments or organizations surround this area.

Outside each building serving a similar purpose, long, despairing queues stretched out—mercenaries, adventurers, merchant representatives, laborers, and ordinary people seeking opportunity…

All sorts of people gather here, handling everything from task settlement, material resupply, identity registration to dispute arbitration.

The port was extremely crowded.

The iconic Night's Watch steel transport ships lay moored in the deep waters like sleeping sea monsters, but mixed in with them were wooden sailing ships and magically powered vessels belonging to various noble lords, merchant guilds, and even small states.

They filled all the berths, and some even had to anchor offshore to wait.

The entire warship port was like a sack stretched to its limit, with every inch of space and every processing node bearing unimaginable pressure.

The city's potential was completely exhausted in just a few years by the influx of people and goods.

Further expansion would be pointless.

The reason for such a large population is naturally because the expeditions grew larger and larger with each successive expedition.

The expedition team already has a fourth phase.

The main reason was that news of the expedition spread all over the world, and there were many reports of success.

Ordinary peasant adventurers became nobles and acquired territories, which drove them absolutely mad.

As more and more people come here, it naturally becomes more and more congested.

Outside the Adventurers' House, a long, serpentine line slowly slithered along.

Those lined up here are either people who have accumulated enough merit to upgrade their adventurer level or exchange for rare resources.

They're either preparing to form a new adventure team and have completed the registration process.

The air was filled with the smells of sweat, leather, and a subtle sense of unease.

"Tsk, this godforsaken place is getting more and more crowded!"

A warrior with a weathered face and a heavy tower shield on his back wiped the sweat from his brow and couldn't help but complain.

"The task handover is in a queue, the supplies are in a queue, even farting is almost in a queue! I heard that another whole expeditionary team of new recruits arrived on a ship the day before yesterday?"

A young man in front of him, wearing relatively new leather armor and looking like he hadn't been there long, chimed in: "What can we do, brother! The news that the first group of people rushed in with the Night's Watch to make a fortune has already spread like wildfire outside."

"Even in my remote, impoverished hometown, I've heard that a certain mercenary group has unearthed a rich vein of magic crystals, and that someone has found treasures from ancient ruins... Who wouldn't be tempted to do the same?"

“Besides,” a hint of eagerness flashed in the young man’s eyes, “becoming an adventurer means you can at least receive the basic blessing of the Night’s Watch. Your body will be stronger, you’ll be more powerful, and you’ll have some ability to protect yourself. Isn’t that better than being a powerless farmer outside, only able to talk about dreams?”

This is the truth, and there is no room for rebuttal.

Many people in the queue around them nodded silently; these words struck a chord with them.

The pursuit of power, wealth, and the opportunity to change their destiny is the driving force that brought them to this dangerous continent.

"Hmph, get rich?"

Another voice in the ranks carried a distinct sarcasm. It was an old soldier with a long scar on his face and sharp eyes. On his arm guard was a blurry emblem that may have come from some destroyed kingdom.

"The news is flying everywhere. Void invasions have occurred in many places, with gaping rifts spewing out those monstrous things! Instead of putting out the fires right under their own walls, they're all scrambling to squeeze onto the front lines? Have their brains been stuffed with gold coins?"

He looked down on these people.

These words were highly provocative and immediately drew a rebuttal. A burly mercenary standing nearby glared at him disapprovingly: "Hey! Buddy, you can't talk like that! You talk like you're so noble, why don't you go back and guard your home?"

The veteran turned his head sharply, his eyes sweeping over the other person like a blade, his voice cold and filled with suppressed anger.

“Go back? My home… Lot Town, along with its more than three hundred inhabitants, including my wife and children who couldn’t escape… was devoured by the claws of an evil god years ago, leaving not even bone fragments! What am I supposed to guard if I go back? A pile of scorched earth and rotten bones?”

Moreover, it was just a town on the outskirts of a small city-state, which had already been destroyed.

He struggled until the very last moment and was saved by the Night's Watch.

He pointed forcefully to the ground, "This is the only place I can chop down those damn things right now!"

The surrounding area suddenly became quiet.

The mercenary opened his mouth to retort, but ultimately said nothing, his face showing embarrassment and a hint of shame. So he was a veteran from that era.

The people in line fell silent or sighed, the cruelty of war and the tragedy of their personal fate weighing heavily on their hearts, overshadowing their previous complaints and restlessness.

The people around me were mostly young.

During the most chaotic period of the war of evil gods, the oldest among them were still children, and the youngest may not have been born yet.

That was almost twenty years ago.

An elven ranger who seemed to have some knowledge broke the silence in a deep voice.

"Ultimately, the expedition team has been stuck at the 'Steel Cliff' for too long. It's been almost half a year, hasn't it?"
"I heard that the initial plan was to push further inland and build new satellite cities or large transit bases at several key locations."

"It is used to relieve the pressure on warship ports and also facilitates in-depth exploration and development."

That was indeed the initial plan.

Who could have imagined that at this moment, the vanguard of the void would suddenly appear?

“Yes!” the new young man immediately chimed in. “Now it’s all good. Even if we build a new city, the good locations nearby won’t alleviate the pressure here. The places that are both conveniently located and in good positions are all behind the encirclement of those damned void creatures and local monsters.”

"If we can't break through, won't we all be stuck here? The more people gather, the more people will accumulate."

"I heard the Night's Watch is planning something big?"

The warrior carrying the tower shield looked up at the distant port, trying to change the subject.

"Didn't those caravans that just arrived the day before yesterday say mysteriously that they saw another huge Night's Watch transport fleet docking? The lead ship was ridiculously big; it must have brought something incredible."

"Yes! I heard about it too! It seems to be..." The Elf Ranger was about to share the gossip.

Just then, a deep, humming sound, different from the usual noise of the port, came from the sea, mixed with a melodious but extremely penetrating horn sound.

Everyone's attention, including that of the adventurers in line, was instantly drawn to the sea.

Near the shore, a steel fleet with a distinctly Night's Watch style was slowly sailing into the anchorage.

In the center is a colossal vessel, far exceeding the size of a conventional transport ship, with rigid lines and covered in heavy magical armor.

What is most striking is that on its broad deck, which resembles a mobile platform, a colossal object is steadily supported, completely covered by a huge, thick black alchemical cloak.

The outline of the object was faintly visible under the tarpaulin, revealing a complex geometric shape. It was by no means a simple cargo or weapons platform. Its size was so great that it occupied almost most of the space on the deck of the giant ship, like a small mountain wrapped in black cloth.

Its sheer size and the sense of the unknown exude an invisible pressure.

Around it, several escort ships equipped with conspicuous turrets and energy shield generators patrolled slowly like vigilant steel hounds.

Even more striking were the two squads of Night's Watch cavalry riding powerful griffins circling in the sky.

These griffin riders are well-equipped, their sharp eyes scanning the sea and sky to ensure the transport process goes smoothly.

No kidding.

This is absolutely the Soul Keeper squad, a synonym for the Night's Watch's top strength.

They're using the Soul Guardian squad as escorts; just looking at the ones flying in the sky, there seem to be two squads.

In addition to those on the ship.

Such a strict level of security silently proclaimed the extraordinary nature and importance of the cargo hidden beneath the black cloth.

Countless eyes in the harbor were focused on the enormous creature shrouded in black cloth.

An uncontrollable commotion and whispered speculations arose from the queue.

"See that? I told you there was going to be a big commotion!"

"What exactly is that thing? A new giant iron flower? Or... a super weapon that can smash through the 'steel cliff'?"

"Who knows, but with such a large-scale operation, the Night's Watch must be trying to break the current stalemate..."

The steel city of Warship Harbor, bursting with people, seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for the moment when the black veil would be lifted.

Even in the early morning, the mission release center at the warship port was already bustling with activity, resembling a giant, ignited beehive.

The air was filled with the smells of sweat, leather, cheap tobacco, and the salty, fishy smell and seaweed drifting from the distant port.

The massive light screen refreshed like a waterfall of information, with a noticeable increase in the proportion of high-risk tasks, which were glaringly red.

Registrar Colm felt like he was being drowned out by the noise and piles of documents. His voice was a little hoarse as he mechanically repeated himself.

"Next! Identity badge! Mission number! Settlement voucher!" A fine layer of sweat clung to his forehead.

Even with a hoarse voice, one still has to shout and yell.

As for why we didn't use the alchemy equipment, the loudspeaker broke yesterday, and we don't have time to fix it yet.

Even alchemical machines couldn't sustain such complex operations.

Even the machines couldn't keep going, yet people are still persisting; it's unbearable.

The clerks who used to help him were all gone—they had all been reassigned to logistical support by the Night's Watch.

Colm lamented inwardly: This damned void invasion is disturbing even those sitting in offices!

The line was so long you couldn't see the end of it.

Daniel, a burly orc warrior with fresh claw marks on his face, and his teammates.

The elven mage Lya's hood was stained with some suspicious purple slime, the halfling scout Felchick's boots were covered in mud, and the human ranger Martha's cloak had several small holes corroded in it.

The group of people had just squeezed to the counter.

They were able to retreat from the front lines and take a short break to rest and regroup.

There's nothing we can do; the situation on the front lines is currently at a stalemate.

It's time for those of them who have persevered for so long to take a break.

I'm just not used to it; seeing such a congested scene when I come back is quite unusual.

"Brother Colm!"

Daniel slammed a crumpled task settlement voucher with scorch marks on the counter with a loud bang, making the ink bottle jump.

"Twenty warty monitor lizards from the 'Rotting Mud Swamp'! Exceeded the target! Count them carefully! Damn, this trip was a huge loss!"

Leah frowned slightly, adding elegantly but wearily, "Daniel, watch your words. But it is true, Mr. Colm, the mission briefing seriously underestimated the capabilities."

"Those monitor lizards were not only thick-skinned and tough, but their numbers were also twice as many as the intelligence had indicated. The concentration of poison gas in the swamp was extremely high; we almost didn't have enough antidotes, and in the end, we even tore up all the spare scrolls to clear out the gathering point." (End of Chapter)