Ring Tower City, North City.
This steel miracle, rising close to the Tower of Despair, seed ready to be burst by the surging crowd.
The broad streets turned into a riverbed flowing with diverse races, and the porches of majestic halls were crowded with curious spectators.
The temporary square was even more bustling, making it a luxury to find a foothold.
There were too many people here.
Not just a large number of Night Watchers, but far more managers than they imagined.
This almost beca a global gathering.
The curiosity of the outside world about the Night Watchers was far greater than the Night Watchers themselves imagined.
Once they learned that the Night Watchers had sent invitations to everyone, anyone with a brain knew sothing major was about to happen here.
Among so nobles, those not qualified to attend beca almost a laughingstock.
anwhile, those directly invited or who ca through different diplomatic groups beca new stars in social circles.
Thus, hardly anyone declined.
The vast scale of invitations led to a far more exaggerated number of people than anticipated.
The black-armored figures of the Night Watchers struggled to maintain order like rocks in the tumultuous waves.
Behind their tense faces lay a hint of pride at gathering with their comrades.
No choice.
This was a new city built by the Night Watchers.
"Listen! Elf harp and human cantata again!" exclaid a young man wearing a Night Watcher’s standard leather armor, faded from washing, clearly from a small noble family.
He was evidently a newly joined Night Watcher, likely having joined after quotas were fully opened.
He irritably dug his ear, complaining to a similarly plainly dressed companion, "Those real big shots practically treat this as a mobile salon!
"Look at the largest area in the East District, it’s not even completed yet, those delegations’ tents are filled with nightly revelry, fine wines, and feasts pour in like streams, all to hear those outdated poems and exchange shady agreents!"
He seriously suspected these people might be discussing things concerning the Night Watchers here.
Possibly even against the Night Watchers.
After all, he was a newly joined young Night Watcher.
His companion, a young werewolf warrior with fresh claw marks on his face, snorted in disdain, exhaling a small puff of white air, "Tch, let them enjoy. When the ceremony begins, let’s see if their tongues are mightier or the Night Watchers’ display of power is.
"The elders of our beastman tribe aren’t busy wasting away in barrels. They’re all researching city defense and that huge torch!" He took a swig of the special Dwarf ale, his gaze sweeping over a distant, brightly lit tent from which foxman laughter issued, filled with scornful disdain.
Even for beastn, such aristocratic nonsense is just a change of na and thod.
The Night Watchers have gained near universal acclaim beyond their own nations and races among commoners of various races.
Though racial diversity accelerated the birth of nationalism in this world, the constant wars dispersing interactions prevented nationalism from gaining fertile ground.
This provided the Night Watchers an opportunity to unify the lower strata of different races.
The air indeed carried a carnival-like clamor: the charred aroma of roasted at, intense exotic spices, magical fireworks’ fleeting splendor in the grey-white sky, and a cacophony of elf flute, dwarf war drum, and indescribable beast roars.
Yet beneath this liveliness, a tense undercurrent surged, known to all — that grand ceremony related to the "future" was the main event.
Would all seize this chance under the guise of world salvation to reveal their fangs? To strip rights from these people?
This was what nearly all nobles feared, whether human, beastman, dwarf, or elf.
"Do you feel it? This city... dayti and nightti feel like different places."
A young human Mage apprentice donning a gray robe, clutching a thick Magic Book, nervously whispered to his companion—a likewise young Elf Mage.
They crowded in a relatively quiet street corner, away from the square’s clamor.
Judging by their insignia, they seed to be from the Mage United Council.
Compared to traditional nobles, they were slightly better off.
But only marginally.
The Elf Mage closed her eyes, long lashes faintly trembling, as though carefully sensing the invisible waves around.
"Very distinct," she opened her eyes, a hint of confusion and curiosity in her clear eyes, "In daylight, the magic power field is active yet stable, full of construction and life’s vigor. But once the sun sinks into the tower’s shadow..."
She shivered, subconsciously tightening her thin magic robe, "The ’thing’ in the air changes. It’s not temperature, it’s... a deeper ’cold.’ A silent energy with... resonance is gathering."
The city’s day-night disparity made many Mages within feel uneasy, yet their legendary-status ntors remained indifferent, settling comfortably in the city, while these unclear apprentice Mages fretted over certain issues.
Even though their ntors had reassured them, they still couldn’t shake their concerns, secretly investigating day and night.
Yet they still couldn’t understand the reasoning behind it.
"Soul resonance!" the human apprentice excitedly supplented, voice lowered further, reverberating with awe, "Our ntor says it’s the ’breath’ inherent to the city, a deliberately guided, massive soul power field! It awakens at night like fog, then..."
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