A different world game? A different world game!

On Carlos's rock-solid face, the deep lines seemed to deepen with surprise.

His lava-like eyes were fixed on Kana, and his deep, steady voice carried a rare hint of emotion:

"Lord Kana... I apologize, please don't take offense at my words."

"Although I had already heard about your deeds from the previous rotating chairperson and knew that you were extremely young, the impact of seeing it with my own eyes and feeling the amazing 'newness' and 'sharpness' in your divinity was still beyond my imagination."

He shook his head slightly, his granite-like divine body emitting a low, grinding sound.

"A century... no, even shorter. On the long scale of the astral plane, that's almost a blink of an eye."

"Many mortal races are still groping in the dark, while you have ignited the divine fire, built a fortress in the abyss, and are honored with the title of 'Savior'."

“This is not flattery, Lord Cana. It is a miracle that even we old stones must take notice of.”

Kana nodded slightly, already used to such exclamations; every god who saw him would say the same thing and be so amazed.

He responded calmly:

"Thank you for your praise, Your Excellency Carlos. The length of time is not the measure of everything; the world's crises and responsibilities compel us to move forward."

He skillfully changed the subject and got to the point.

"I have come here today in the hope of coordinating a limited joint operation with Bloodbath Fortress."

Carlos's lava-like pupils dimmed, regaining their rock-solid composure: "Oh? Please speak. In this stagnant battlefield, any positive action is worth listening to."

Clearly, from the perspective of the order, the "peace" on the 1121st floor is still somewhat unsatisfactory.

"I plan to launch a proactive attack from the direction of Blood Pit Fortress."

Kana got straight to the point.

He raised his hand, and his divine power outlined a partial map of the 1121st floor between the two of them, clearly marking the Blood Pit Fortress, the Blood Battle Fortress, and the dangerous, jagged area between them.

"There are three objectives: First, to eliminate the three most active demon outposts in front of Blood Pit Fortress and reduce daily pressure; second, to conduct tactical harassment towards Scorched Bone Wasteland and distract the main demon force."

Kana's finger moved across the map, finally settling on the blank area between Blood Pit Fortress and Bloodbath Fortress.

"The most important goal is to advance steadily at least fifty kilometers toward your fortress, and to open up and widen a safer and more convenient connecting passage."

He looked at Carlos and explained, “You know, we are both deep in the abyss, and the flow of supplies and people should be mutually beneficial.”

"But this battlefield in the middle is the perfect place for demons to ambush transport convoys. Our precious transport crates, along with our valiant transport personnel, have been lost more than once because of this. Each loss is a blow to both sides."

Carlos nodded heavily, recalling the reports of losses, which were indeed regrettable.

Although those supplies are meaningless to the gods.

However, he himself is a race that prefers mortal life. For mortal life, those resources are a source of spiritual comfort and a fundamental means of protection.

If those highly efficient space transport containers can circulate stably, they will greatly improve the efficiency of replenishing supplies to the Bloodbath Fortress.

Kana continued to explain the plan: "My idea is that the main force of Blood Pit Fortress will be responsible for the first two objectives, creating enough battlefield noise and chaos to attract the demons' attention."

"At the same time, I hope to coordinate with the elite forces of your fortress to launch a powerful and swift attack on this 'flank'—the area between our two fortresses."

His finger traced a clear path on the illusory map.

"This advance is not about penetrating deep into the heart of the enemy territory; the objective is clear and limited—to take over this fifty-kilometer stretch, establish initial defensive nodes, and create a relatively safe corridor."

"This area, located between our two fortresses, is a region with relatively strong control over order, so theoretically there should be less resistance."

"Even if the demons retaliate, they will prioritize dealing with the front-end chaos we created. Their reaction to this kind of 'side-side' optimization of connections within our order may be relatively delayed, or they may even tolerate it temporarily."

"After all, this area has often been a 'fringe' zone in the history of Bloodbath Fortress. By the time they reacted and tried to take it back, we had already established a foothold and built up basic defenses."

Carlos stroked his stone chin, making a soft "click" sound, and fell into deep thought.

He carefully examined the route and planning milestones outlined by Kana.

This is indeed a pragmatic plan with relatively controllable risks.

The attacks on the first two targets were feints, but also genuine attempts to weaken the target, creating an opportunity for the real objective—to open up the connection channel.

Furthermore, advancing towards Bloodbath Fortress would also be beneficial to the safety of Bloodbath Fortress itself and its supply lines.

Most importantly, this scale is still within a controllable range and will not trigger an unpredictable overreaction from the will of the abyss.

Such a tug-of-war is the norm on the battlefield of bloody warfare.

Even on this floor, it's the same.

“I understand your intention, Lord Cana.”

Carlos finally spoke, his voice regaining its rock-solid firmness.

"This plan is reasonable and beneficial to both sides. Bloodbath Fortress will cooperate. I will order elite troops to launch a simultaneous attack on the area you designate at the scheduled time, striving to complete the opening and initial consolidation of the passage before the demons can react."

His molten lava-like gaze met Kana's directly:
"Of course, once we start to substantially expand our territory, even if it's just 'lateral connection', those two disgusting guys... probably won't sit idly by. At that time, we'll need to deal with them together."

"This is precisely the core reason why I am seeking your support, Your Excellency Carlos."

Kana solemnly said, "At that time, I will ensure that I bear the pressure from the gods in the direction of Blood Pit Fortress, and I also ask that you take action to restrain or even repel the evil god forces that may appear in our joint advance area."

"Only when the divine level is stabilized can the ground forces' operation succeed."

"The rock is here, and it shall stand firm."

Carlos made his promise with the symbol of his divine authority, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

"Since we are the shield of order, we must stand together against the tide of the abyss. As for the details of the plan, I will have my commander coordinate with your deputy."

“Very good. Thank you for your support, Your Excellency Carlos.”

Kana bowed slightly.

"I'll go back and prepare now, and we'll launch it according to plan."

May the light of order guide the blade.

Carlos responded in a deep voice.

Cana's figure slowly faded in the sanctuary, leaving Carlos alone to face the illusory map.

The gaze of the rock god swept once more over the route of the passage that was about to be opened, and a complex light flashed deep within his lava-like eyes.

So young, yet already so adept at strategy and the balance of power, even knowing how to exploit the subtle "traditions" of the battlefield... This "savior" is truly extraordinary.

She's still too young, it's truly amazing.

Three days later, Blood Pit Fortress

The signs of mobilization, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, stirred up ripples in the unique furnace of Blood Pit Fortress.

Although the Night's Watch itself operated in a highly efficient and silent manner, with orders being issued rapidly through data panels, each combat unit checked its equipment and replenished its supplies in an orderly and solemn manner.

But the reactions of other groups inside the fortress were far more vivid. Outside the fortress, a patrol:

A mixed patrol consisting of humans, dwarves, and a wood elf was moving along the fortress’s tall metal walls.

The dwarf warrior Glenn tapped his brand-new rune breastplate with his thick fingers—it had been redeemed with merits from the last battle.

He said in a muffled voice to the elven ranger Lila beside him, "Hey, did you hear that? The Venerable One is getting serious! Take the initiative! Strike out!"

Lila's slender fingers traced the bowstring, her emerald eyes scanning the distant, scorched horizon, her voice cold and clear:
“Glenn, stay alert. It’s good to fight, but don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment. The devil’s claws could strike from the shadows at any moment.”

"Ha! What's there to be afraid of!" Glenn slapped his breastplate, making a dull thud. "I'm itching to get my new 'iron suit' ready! Staying cooped up in this fortress doing defense is going to rust my bones! It's much more satisfying to actively slay demons!"

He turned to look at the taciturn human shieldbearer, Karl. "You agree, right, big guy?"

Karl simply tightened his grip on the massive tower shield, letting out a muffled nasal sound from beneath his heavy helmet:

"Okay. Follow orders. Slay the demons."

His eyes constantly scanned the patrol area warily.

He was one of the few adventurers who ventured into the abyss.

Yes, some adventurers also ventured into the abyss this year.

They belong to the experimental part.

Trade zone.

Several abyss merchants of different races gathered around a wagon pulled by armored earth lizards.

Horace, a humanoid merchant wearing a monocle and dressed in fine but dusty clothes, was quickly flipping through his ledgers, muttering a complaint: "Another war is about to break out... I hope the 'Silver Shuttle' transport fleet won't be dragged into this again. The loss of that batch of magic crystal ore last time really stung me for half a year!"

Celia, a female merchant of demon bloodline with dark red skin and small curved horns, chuckled and toyed with an abyssal gold coin between her fingers.

"Feeling the pinch? Horace, think long-term. Once that damned 'death corridor' is cleared, cargo losses will be reduced by at least 30% in the future."

"With less risk, the profits will naturally be greater. The Night Watch's magical chests will be able to bring in even more good stuff, and our opportunities will be even greater. I can't wait for them to pull off a great job this time!"

Popok, a dwarf merchant wrapped in thick fur with only his shrewd little eyes showing, squeezed in with a high-pitched voice.

“Celia is right! But... before the war starts, we need to clear out any easily damaged goods we have, or exchange them for more durable hard currency. Who knows if those demon lunatics will go berserk and bomb indiscriminately? This is called risk hedging.”

He rubbed his hands together, a calculating glint in his small eyes.

Of course, the most well-informed and noisiest place is always the tavern.

This place is always a boiling cauldron of information, emotions, and alcohol.

At this moment, the only topic is the upcoming operation.

At a table near the bar, several Avengers, clearly bearing the marks of time and not belonging to the Night's Watch, were sitting around.

A burly man with three deep claw marks on his face and missing an ear, nicknamed "Scarface" Rick, gulped down a large glass of cheap ale, his cloudy eyes burning with long-suppressed rage.

"Damn it! Are they finally going to make a move?! I've been stuck in this godforsaken place for almost thirty years, watching those bastards swagger around outside."

Floor 1121? Pshaw! It used to be a stagnant pool, stinking and decaying. Guarding a broken fortress, watching demons frolic right under our noses. Now… finally, a stream of fresh water is flowing in.”

He slammed the wooden cup heavily onto the table.

Across from him stood a silent former grey elf ranger, Erion, polishing a well-maintained dagger, his voice low yet tinged with anticipation:
"Blood Pit Fortress... is indeed different. The 'vitality' here carries the sharpness of a blade. Taking the initiative... even if it's just the beginning, is good. It's better than slowly decaying in despair."

He had experienced the tragedy of his home being destroyed by demons, and the long years of revenge had almost worn everything down until he came here.

A tree-man, unusually tall with skin like rough tree bark, spoke up in a deep, booming voice.

"The roots... need to stretch... to demand... repayment... of life's debt... from the demon... Your Excellency... bring... an act of hope..."

His voice was slow, but each syllable contained profound power and unwavering support.

In another corner of the tavern, the atmosphere was completely different.

A group of young Night's Watchmen dressed in standard Night's Watch light armor appeared relatively calm.

Human warrior Mark checked the clasp of his sword sheath and said to his companion, "Did you see the mission briefing? Area B7, advance in coordination with the dwarven shield formation, prioritize clearing the horned demon swarm on the left flank. Data link sharing is pre-loaded."

The half-elf mage apprentice, Lydia, nodded, her fingers unconsciously tracing spell patterns in the air.

"Hmm, the area magic suppression support list has also been updated. Hopefully, the construct spore support will keep up this time. Last time, we almost got sprayed with acid at 'Razor Path'."

"Bron, a burly dwarf gunslinger carrying a huge gun, said in a muffled voice."

"I just want to know, who is the command assigned to take down those Shadow Demon lairs along this advance route? We don't want them to sneak up on us like last time."

Their conversations were efficient and pragmatic, without excessive emotional outbursts, focusing only on the details of the task and trust in their teammates' cooperation.

They couldn't understand the emotions of those avengers.

After all, to them, the abyss seemed to be a place of endless battles, not a stagnant pool.

It's impossible for people to become numb.

The tavern owner, Morgan "Iron Hand," a one-eyed warrior from the former Blood War Fortress with an adamantite prosthetic arm, skillfully wiped the glasses while listening intently to the murmurs swirling around in the tavern.

He chuckled softly to the young orc servant helping him beside him, “Look, kid, this is the daily life of the ‘Riften Light.’ The fire of the Avengers, the calculations of the merchants, and the… well… professionalism of those Night’s Watch guys.”

“The Venerable One’s move has completely stirred up our stagnant pool.”

"Go, bring out a few more copies of today's 'Night Watchman's Abyss Briefing,' they're sure to sell well!"

He pointed to a conspicuous metal shelf next to the bar, on which was stuck the latest issue of the newspaper.

Yes.

Even in the tavern late at night, the night watchman still has a separate newspaper.

Sure enough, soon some new young mercenaries, their faces still showing tension and curiosity, were drawn to the newspaper.

A young halfling boy picked up a copy and looked at the front page article about "strengthening regional coordination and optimizing the logistics lifeline" and the majestic image of the fortress in the accompanying picture.

Listening to the excited discussions around him about the upcoming operation, his eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, and he murmured to himself:
"Would it really work to actively call out and follow the Night's Watch? What the newspapers say seems to make a lot of sense..."

As night fell, the lights of Blood Pit Fortress shone brightly against the eternal crimson backdrop of the Abyss.

The metal walls reflected a cold, hard luster, and the massive outline of the ironwork structure resembled a lurking steel behemoth in the night, with the faintly pulsating green light of life at its top reflecting off the lights of the fortress below.

The air was thick with the scents of engine oil, metal, blood, and a tense sense of anticipation.

The clamor of the tavern gradually subsided, replaced by a deeper, more frequent clanging of metal, the sounds of weapons being maintained, and the final confirmation of orders coming from the barracks and fortifications.

An atmosphere of impending doom, like an invisible tide, quietly permeated every corner of the fortress.

All eyes, whether burning with vengeance, calculating, or calm and focused, were drawn to the dark, scorched earth outside the fortress, overrun by demons.

At dawn, the call to action will shatter this oppressive silence. (End of Chapter)