I can see experience bars after being transported to another world.

Outside the pipeline layer outlet.

Klaus stood there clutching the communication crystal, his expression even more grim than before.

He could clearly feel that the lines connected to the communication crystal were broken in several places.

In other words, several more Night's Watch squads have been wiped out.

The situation is terrible.

The Blue Knight suddenly turned his head and looked into the distance, his expression somewhat stiff.

"Look over at the city wall."

Klaus and Lu Yuan followed her gaze.

The fog was so thick that nothing could be seen clearly, but on the distant horizon, where the outline of the inner city wall should have been, a faint dark red tinged the sky, standing out starkly in the fog.

The city wall, which should have stood quietly, was now undulating slightly.

Lu Yuan and Klaus immediately realized that the inner city walls had been completely contaminated.

Their hearts sank together.

They recalled the report they had heard earlier; it seemed that the Ascension Ceremony had also failed.

The task of stopping the spread of flesh and blood was originally entrusted to the Ascension Society, but the thing spreading in the abyss was far too fast.

Just then, a night watchman rushed out of the white mist.

He was covered in sweat, with several bloody marks on his face. He almost lost his balance when he ran up to Klaus. He had to support himself on his knees for a few moments before he could finally manage to get the words out.

"Vice Chief of Staff Klaus, something's happened! The inner city walls are all mutating; flesh and blood are growing out of them... Everyone on the west side of the wall... has been killed... What should we do?"

Klaus's gaze shifted from the Night's Watchman's face to the distant, dark red horizon, and he fell silent.

He put the communication crystal back into his waistband, and the expression on his face faded at that moment, replaced by the calmness that a deputy chief of staff should have.

"Let's go, everyone back to the branch office first."

With that, he strode into the white mist.

Blue Knight and Lu Yuan followed. The sweat-drenched Night Watchman was stunned for a moment, then, as if he had found his backbone, he followed closely behind.

The sound of the four people's footsteps was mostly swallowed up by the white mist, leaving only a vague outline visible ahead. The dark red light in the distance grew brighter and brighter.

Just as Klaus and the others were heading to the branch, the gushing of flesh and blood from underground grew stronger and stronger, causing the entire Bronze City to tremble.

That was no longer the leakage from just one or two collapses as before.

Dark red fleshy pillars shot up to the ground simultaneously from several directions within the city. The thickest one pierced through an entire building from the ground in the southern section of the inner city. Gravel and timber fell from the height of three stories, the sound of them hitting the ground being completely swallowed up by the sound of the fleshy pillars gushing out.

At the same moment, the flesh and blood on the inner city wall also spread rapidly, surging out from inside the wall and spreading towards both ends of the wall.

The bronze sheen on the city wall was fading at a visible rate, and a layer of damp, dark red was rising from underneath.

On a street in the northern part of the outer city, Margaret smashed the last ghoul.

She pulled her fist out of the ghoul's head, and a layer of pale blue water film spread across her palm, washing away the pus and grime from her fist.

Four Night Watchmen followed behind him, all wounded, their faces ashen from years of hardship.

From last night until now, Margaret has rescued these four people and eliminated at least a hundred ghouls.

These four people were already out of fighting strength, and their energy was exhausted after a night's work. She planned to take them back to the branch to rest.

But at that moment, Margaret's supernatural abilities detected a large number of strange things moving.

She stopped in her tracks.

There's trouble with the ghouls on the street ahead.

The giant ghouls that were originally hiding in the shadows of the buildings and staring intently at the living people on the street suddenly seemed to have collectively gone awry. Several of them, which were scattering and fleeing, suddenly turned around and ran back towards the collapsed opening from which they had come.

They walked hurriedly, ignoring the debris on the roadside, desperately squeezing back.

Margaret stood in the middle and punched down, sending the two large ghouls crashing to the ground.

But those behind her completely ignored her, stepping over the corpses of their companions and continuing to run back.

She frowned and unleashed a flurry of punches, killing more than a dozen ghouls in a row, but the ghouls still surged back regardless.

Margaret's brow furrowed even more.

Great ghouls possess a faint sense of individual consciousness. If they kill too many of them, or once they realize the difference in strength, they will try to avoid direct confrontation.

But what's going on here? Could it be that something underground is calling them back?

"Captain, these ghouls..." A night watchman behind him also noticed something was wrong, but swallowed his words halfway through.

Because he heard that it wasn't just their street that was making the same dense footsteps in the thick fog; from nearby residential areas and other directions, the same sound was also coming from everywhere else.

Margaret did not turn around.

She stared silently at the swarm of ghouls, which resembled ants and stretched out in long lines, surging back into the thick fog.

Although I don't know what happened, it's not a bad idea to take this opportunity to clear out as many large ghouls as possible.

Before she could even move, the horde of ghouls around her had already surged into the collapsed opening.

She stared in the direction they had disappeared, as white mist pressed in from the end of the street, swallowing everything whole.

Just then, a dull tremor came from beneath Margaret's feet.

Her pupils contracted sharply. Her body, which had been exposed to this kind of pollution for many years, reacted faster than her brain. She grabbed the collar of the night watchman next to her and pulled him back.

"Back off! Back off quickly!"

Before he could finish speaking, the ground in front of him cracked open.

Dark red flesh surged up from the cracks and spread along the gravel road at an extremely fast speed, covering more than ten steps in the blink of an eye.

The bases of buildings along the street were glued together with flesh and blood, and the wooden planks and bricks hissed as they rotted.

Margaret led the four people and ran back.

But the flesh and blood were spreading too fast. She ran a few steps, looked back, and saw that the dark red front had gotten a few steps closer.

She raised her right hand, and the pale blue film of water in her palm suddenly lit up as she began to extract it.

The moisture on the surface of the flesh was violently stripped away in an instant, and the dark red on the contact surface quickly dried, shrank, and cracked, turning into a layer of grayish-brown hard shell.

The spread was halted for a moment, and the flesh and blood paused for two or three breaths in front of her.

But the constant influx of new flesh and blood from below pushed the shrunken layer aside, emerging from under the dry shell and continuing to spread forward.

Margaret's face darkened. Her method was effective on flesh and blood, but the effect was too limited; the amount of flesh and blood far exceeded the limit she could extract.

"If we can't outrun them on the ground, let's find higher ground." She grabbed the night watchman next to her, whose legs were already weak, and carried him toward a newly built two-story stone church building on the side of the street.

The other three watchmen were still able to move on their own and rushed up with her.

The church's stone building was situated on higher ground, with dozens of steps leading up to its entrance, making it taller than the surrounding buildings.

Margaret rushed to the door, but the nuns inside had already pushed the door open and let them in, clearly having seen what was happening outside.

Upon entering the church, Margaret discovered that dozens of Bronze City residents were already hiding inside, along with three or five nuns maintaining order, all with devout expressions.

In the center of the enormous church stands an angel statue, behind which is a huge stained glass window.

White mist floated outside the glass, giving it an indescribable eeriness when viewed through the stained glass.

A nun came over and asked Margaret who she was.

Margaret said she was the captain of the Night's Watch, and that the flesh and blood around her were spreading too fast.

The nun simply replied calmly, "The angels will protect us."

Margaret didn't think so.

She hurried up to the second floor and glanced down.

Flesh and blood were slowly devouring the surrounding buildings from below, and as if it were consciously moving, it was gradually closing in on the church, trying to completely encircle it.

It seemed there really was something that could protect them; the nun hadn't lied to her.

But what can they do once the flesh and blood completely close this place up?

Margaret couldn't give an answer.

She stared at the blood and flesh that had stained the earth red in the white mist in the distance, lost in thought.

Old Conference Square.

The collapse site was surrounded by silver and bronze barricades, with several marching lanterns lit with sandworm oil hanging on them.

Beyond the barricades was a makeshift command post, surrounded by another layer of protection. The fog was now so thick that it was impossible to disperse, forcing the night watchmen to spread out their ranks, one every eight to ten steps, each with a lamp lit beside them.

In this fog, a lamp represents a person who is still alive; if a lamp really dies, its light will flicker in the fog, and others can see it in time and send a message.

The hooded Night's Watchman stood next to the command tent, his hood pulled low, revealing only his chin.

Several watchmen gathered around him, whispering that the ghouls had stopped surging up for the time being, which was good news. They also said that the fog was unusually thick and that the communication crystal seemed to be malfunctioning, and they took it out and repeatedly tested it.

He didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the fog.

From the moment he arrived, his senses had been screaming warnings, telling him that something was approaching from the depths of the fog and urging him to leave immediately.

But he is a Night's Watchman, the captain of this team, and he cannot leave.

The light at the third sentry post on the east side suddenly went out. He turned his head to look, but the white fog swallowed everything in that direction, and he couldn't see anything.

"Old Ding," he called softly, but no one answered.

The second lamp went out immediately afterward. This time it was the fourth sentry post, right next to the third. The two lamps went out in less than three breaths.

The Night's Watchmen nearby sensed something was wrong. One of the young Watchmen gripped his bronze sword tightly and stared intently into the darkness.

The third lamp also went out.

The hooded Night's Watchman's body began to change at that moment.

The chest cavity split open from the center, the ribs sprang to the sides, and a pale white figure shot out from inside the chest cavity.

The figure was long and flat, with a winding tail. A pair of huge claws at the head opened in the white mist and pounced toward the direction where the lights went out.

His head, which was bent over his back, opened slightly, speaking in an eerie manner.

"Everyone, retreat into the shed."

As soon as he finished speaking, something emerged from the depths of the white mist.

Its body shape is similar to that of an ordinary person, its whole body is wet, with large areas of flesh exposed and dripping with mucus.

There are no facial features on the face; only a thin, straight line runs from the left ear to the right ear, dividing the face into two halves.

It was carrying the corpse of a night watchman in one hand. It was Old Ding, a first-tier bizarre superhuman, who was also holding a short gun in his hand, his finger on the trigger, but he hadn't had time to pull it.

His neck was twisted at an inappropriate angle, his eyes were wide open, and he was already lifeless.