Beside a long table, a few young human adventurers, with mismatched equipnt and so even carrying weapons made from modified farm tools, were listening intently to a Half-Elf in a faded scholar’s robe animatedly talking about sothing.
"... It’s absolutely true! My cousin works as an assistant at the ’Distant Lighthouse’. He says that last month, the moon over the Night Watcher’s Ring Tower City was like a little sun! That light, tsk tsk, it wasn’t an ordinary magical glow, it felt... it felt like we were looking directly at the ’thread’ of the world!"
The Half-Elf lowered his voice but couldn’t hide his excitent, "And then? I saw many noble-looking folks, they seed to have all left from the Ring Tower City."
"Who cares, anyway, the Night Watchers won’t do anything bad." A young man with freckles on his face, carrying a huge lumberjack axe on his back, gulped down so ale, coughing from choking.
"But... don’t you all feel it’s been too quiet lately? I an wars! Back where I’m from, just last month, our Lord and the neighboring knight were still at a standoff at the border.
"I heard they were all set for a fight. But then... then suddenly, overnight, both sides withdrew their troops! The commander said they ’received higher instructions,’ hell, who can instruct them?"
The young man had a strange look on his face.
These lords are known for not listening to others, let alone the fact that they are old rivals.
Since he was young, he heard stories that even the uncle next door had crippled a leg helping with the war.
That they would reconcile because of orders from above, if those orders had any effect, would it have co to this state?
Really laughable.
Even a commoner like him understands.
"It’s not just humans!" Interjected a sharp-eared archer with distinct Wood Elf features from the next table, carefully wiping her longbow.
"Even we... ahem, even disputes among the upper elves have subsided. Over at Moonlit Woodland, Light and Moonnight... fought for so long, so many died, and then suddenly... it just stopped?
"No truce announcent, no victory declaration, it was like a red-hot iron dropped into the ice sea, sizzling, and only leaving behind a cold, hard lump.
"An old soldier I know just ca back yesterday, he said the hatred magic over the battlefield dissipated, and it was eerily quiet." She shook her head, her erald eyes filled with confusion and a hint of subtle relief.
Upon hearing the elf suddenly interrupt, the young man blushed a bit, becoming sowhat stamring.
He had never seen an elf before.
Had he not co with his team here, he might not have even encountered so many insect clans, let alone elves.
It’s undeniable, these elves are indeed beautiful.
Especially the one in front of him.
The elf seed accustod to this, offering him a slight smile and saying no more.
"Hey! Leopard guy! Another round of ale! Who cares how the world changes, the needs of the stomach and throat won’t change!" A rough voice shouted.
The leopard-man server slid over silently, placing several frothing mugs of ale down.
A low voice with a unique guttural sound said: "There’s plenty of ale, and plenty of news. The Night Watchers grant us courage, not suspicion.
"The storm has cald in the distance, but the treasures in the mists of the old continent and beneath the deep sea won’t just surface themselves. Think less about ’why the truce,’ more about what might be hidden under ’Storm Fjord’ or ’Weeping Reef’."
And that unmanned continent of a millennium, its treasures could ensure you live carefree for life. Lads. Finish this drink, perhaps a ship awaits you." His golden eyes swept over the crowd, the tip of his tail gently tapping, before he turned and sunk back into the bustling crowd and swirling smoke.
The tavern staff were either Night Watchers or closely associated with them, anyhow, they were heavily linked to the Night Watchers.
The adventurers all knew this.
In the tavern, the quarrel of dwarves turned into a rousing war song, human novices discussed the legends of the old continent, Half-Elves weaved between tables peddling "exclusive news", elves quietly sipped fruit wine, gazing contemplatively.
Ale splashed, jokes were coarse, scars bragged about, fears temporarily numbed by alcohol.
This is the "Sea Howl Barrel", a small world of noise, chaos, and vitality within the eye of the storm, every corner filled with sea breeze, sweat, and the restless hope of adventurers.
...
Guishanghai Port.
This was the closest port to that continent, once ho to dwarves.
And the largest port.
Most of the expedition ships awaited here.
Within a fortress in the city.
Lurik sat by a low table, leafing through the docunts in his hand.
"How many adventurers have arrived?"
Hearing this, the human next to him said: "Much more than we imagined, although it’s impossible to give an exact count, they should have co in dribs and drabs, about fifty to seventy thousand."
He added, "But a lot of the adventurers, their levels... are not very high."
Most are around Level Three.
Once, having so many Level Three adventurers would have made anyone ecstatic.
One must know that before the Night Watchers rose, most soldiers on the continent were around Level Two.
Level Three soldiers were already considered elite.
But as the Night Watchers rose, the world’s combat power began to explode, especially after the Night Watchers distributed the world’s gift a year ago.
The entire world’s power rose a notch.
Below Level Three.
That’s child-level.
Level Three is the most basic level for an adventurer, which used to be the level for elite soldiers to don armor.
Currently, an elite soldier must at least be Level Four to qualify, while commanders and such are expected to be Level Six or Seven.
This world’s battle power surged within just a short year, rising swiftly.
Especially the Night Watchers.
They are the culprits behind this surge, within the Night Watchers, Level Five is the standard for a Night Watcher, and they typically elevate to Level Seven or Eight within a few months.
They have expanded the most exaggeratedly.
So internally, seeing so many Level Three adventurers is simply dismissable.
"It’s enough, we don’t need these adventurers to do anything dangerous, let them assist, do so tiring work." Lurik said.
They are after all returning to the old continent and their forr ho.
News from the Night Watchers, who built an outpost there years ago, says.
The continent, though very dangerous, isn’t filled entirely with high-level creatures.
Gradually building the landing port and then slowly advancing will be much easier.
"But it’s still too few, only fifty to sixty thousand, what can they achieve? We need more adventurers, and we also need to raise the adventurers’ levels.
At least we need the adventurer count to exceed three hundred thousand."
"Three hundred thousand?!" the human next to him exclaid.
Lurik nodded.
"Internal data has co out, guess how many people have sworn to beco adventurers?"
He truly didn’t know, looking at Lurik curiously.
"Sixty-seven million."
"?"
An exaggerated number.
"And that’s just this year’s result, more people don’t even know this information, they don’t even know the full wording of the oath.
The initial landing is just the first wave, after setting up a base, we need to relay more information back.
Including... land distribution."
Lurik revealed the ultimate weapon.
This was a suggestion or perhaps an order given after internal discussions within the Night Watchers.
To grant land to the pioneers.
This ans giving land to all adventurers.
For the adventurers of this world, this is simply the biggest bait.
Could drive everyone to rush.
Could make those ignorant farrs go crazy making vows to beco adventurers.
And when they beco adventurers, when they have the force, those nobles who have yet to react.
Ha ha.
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