Although the Elf District is the most peaceful, it’s all relative.
Walking in the other direction leads to a corner near the city wall.
There lies a "rough" residential area.
One after another, huge creatures traverse here, but the main inhabitants are Minotaurs.
"Minotaurs are the main force on this level of the Blood Battle Battlefield," said the Mist of Judgnt.
"Why?" Kana asked curiously.
"A matter of history. It’s said that the 1121st layer was once a major world for Minotaurs."
That made sense, so it wasn’t surprising.
The Minotaur’s encampnt is full of a rugged sense of power.
They use giant stone pillars and animal hides to build simple yet solid shelters.
Minotaur Warriors grind their massive dual-bladed war axes and totem poles in the open space, the sound of stone scraping against tal ever present.
The heavy footsteps and the low mooing conversations are their main the.
A few Minotaur Shamans gather around a small campfire, chanting ancient war songs in rough voices, the drumbeats strong and powerful, like the heartbeat of the earth.
Coexisting with the Minotaurs are those "primitive" races with similar habits and totem and ancestor worship.
It’s not that they lack intelligence or that their living habits are primitive, but they prefer an ancient way of life.
In many worlds within the Star Realm, it’s just like this.
Such worlds an that the will of the world is more prominent, so one shouldn’t underestimate their "primitiveness."
Their use of the world and the earth’s natural power is extrely exaggerated.
According to the Mist of Judgnt, the entire encampnt remains so stable because this group of totem-revering primitive beings are also largely credited to the Minotaurs.
After all, this was once their world. Even if swallowed by the Abyss, after reclaiming a part, they could awaken so power and tear through the Abyss’s chaos.
Not far from here is an extrely noisy area, not the Dwarves’ kind of bustle, but another sort of pure commotion—the Beastman’s gathering place.
The Beastn here are not the animal-like Beastn from Kana’s world, but more like those Kana had seen in entertainnt works, with sharp teeth, skin in shades of brown, gray, or green, and brutish.
The entire area resounds with rude shouting and the clamor of combat.
They delight in using confiscated Demon Weapons for combat training in crude fighting pits, the sound of tal clashing, roaring, and the fervent cheers of onlookers repeatedly resounding.
Those Goblin servants of the Beastn shriek as they weave between the Beastn’s stout legs, delivering food or ammunition.
Clearly within the encampnt, they make it seem as if war never ceases.
So Beastn with missing hands or blind eyes are there yelling, dragging injuries into fights.
This is true savagery.
Besides these main races, a variety of creatures cohabit within the city alongside them.
Winged Elves and Harpies dart through the limited airspace within the fortress, their wings creating gusts.
They land on towering towers or platforms, swiftly reporting demon movents detected from the skies, and then they take flight again, plunging into the blood-red sky.
So energy life forms or material shapes flit through the city, occasionally inciting shouts of dissatisfaction.
Language here is a cacophonous torrent.
Common tongue, the lodic Elven language, the rough grunts of Dwarven speech, the deep echoes of Minotaur, the frenzied roars of Beastn, the shrill chatter of Goblins...
Various languages and dialects collide and intertwine in the narrow streets, crowded squares, and rowdy taverns.
Body language and simple common words serve as the bridges for cross-race communication.
"I believe you also feel it—the reason these different languages can communicate is because the power manifestation of the [Star of Verbal Communication] perates this place."
That too is a God of Weak Divine Power, and not adept at fighting.
But looking at his divine na, it’s clear what his primary duty is.
He’s not an individual being, but rather a teor brought to life.
But even though language flows smoothly, this doesn’t an fewer conflicts arise from so many mixed races.
Conflicts appear everywhere.
An Elf Alchemist might loudly protest because a Dwarf’s forge soot contaminated his crucible.
A Minotaur Warrior accidentally knocked over a Beastman’s barrel of ale, imdiately sparking a scuffle and roaring.
A Goblin from a caravan tries to pull a fast one during a deal, only to be caught and scolded by an experienced Dwarf Guard.
But these conflicts are often brief and intense, quickly pacified by patrolling guards or dissolved by the pressure brought on by their common foe—the endless Demons outside the fortress.
Centuries of fighting side by side have ford a kind of twisted camaraderie.
In these circumstances, conflict remains eternal.
This is also why "Scholar" is one of the reasons why Kana and their world’s situation is so shocking.
So many races mixed into one world without tearing it to shreds is truly a wonder.
And in the middle of the city is the most crucial place.
It’s the reason this fortress was built, the purpose behind so many races participating in the blood battle, and the source of why forces from the Star Realm are willing to transport resources—a market in the Abyss.
The core area of the fortress is a massive, beehive-like Central Square, the chaotic yet prosperous Abyss Market.
The first sight is the gigantic vendor market.
Kiosks are piled high with "specialties" from the battlefield: massive, twisted demon horns (used as weapon materials or decorations), carapace shards glinting with sinister sheen (for forging armor), viscous demon blood (for certain spells or poisons), rare minerals infused with Abyss energy, and even organs stripped from demons, still faintly throbbing (used for forbidden potions or research).
Not only Abyss materials, but items banned in so worlds can be bought here, making it practically the largest black market in the Star Realm.
You shouldn’t expect only good people here, or defenders of Order.
rchants tout their goods with exaggerated tones, while buyers closely scrutinize the purity and contained dangerous energy of the materials.
You can also see nurous shady deals lurking in the shadows, using the Abyss as a transit station for their transactions and exchanges.
And among them, the most eye-catching is the live demon trading area.
Sturdy, rune-etched tal cages imprison low-tier Inferior Demons, Frenzy Demons, and occasionally, a Bound Demon bound with nurous chains and anti-magic runes, as well as Succubi, Lust Demons, and Incubi highly sought after across many races.
They roar and crash against the cages, spewing acrid sulfur breath and vile profanities.
Buyers are usually mages, nobles, those needing live targets for training, or ritual practitioners.
The transaction process is accompanied by demons’ shrieks and the cautious scolding of the guards.
Of course, demon escapes are possible, but they’ll be subdued imdiately. Where do you think this is?
Yet after being subdued, who the demon belongs to remains uncertain, but surely not the original owner.
Apart from the formal workshops in the Dwarf District, nurous temporary stalls fill the market’s edges.
Beside make-shift forges, blacksmiths hamr away at repairing weapons.
At potion stands, suspicious liquids of various hues bubble within vials, with stall owners assuringly promoting "instant blood clotting," "enhancent of strength," or "resistance to Abyssal corrosion" potions, the effects often varying greatly.
It’s best to consider the seller’s race before buying.
The entire fortress encampnt functions like a giant machine on the edge of a volcano.
The air is foul, a mixture of sulfur, sweat, cheap wine, potions, and the scent of blood.
The ground is covered with thick mud, a blend of soil, coal ash, and gri from various races’ treading.
Light mainly cos from the glow of forges, magical crystal illumination, and the ever-present red glow of blood clouds reflected from the fortress walls.
There’s no true peace here, only the short, bustling respite between battles.
Everyone moves swiftly, preparing for survival and the next battle.
This twisted yet lively "routine" forged on the brink of destruction is the unique spectacle that keeps the Blood War Fortress standing for a thousand years.
"How’s the daily life on the Blood Battle Battlefield?"
"Truly an eye-opener."
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