He had barely covered a hundred miles when the countdown reached zero.
The change in the battlefield came faster than anyone had anticipated.
The first strike originated from the Wizard world's left flank.
A Second-Tier Wizard clad in heavy, deep-purple robes stepped out from a teleportation array.
He stood nearly three meters tall, and his exposed arms were covered in dark gold runes. These runes crawled slowly across his skin like living creatures.
He raised his right hand, spreading his fingers wide as he aimed at the densest cluster of Amons bastions.
Then, the sky went dark.
It was as if sunlight itself had been swallowed by something.
The sky over that central sector of the battlefield turned from azure to gray-white, and then to pitch black.
Darkness bled out from the Wizard's palm like ink poured into clear water, spreading too fast for anyone to react.
The Amons' bastions collapsed within the darkness.
The dark brown timber and gray-white stone were squeezed, twisted, and pulverized by an invisible force.
The throwing arms of catapults snapped, the green vine torsion ropes burst, and energy ball ammunition exploded silently in the gloom—the emerald flames flickering for only a moment before being consumed by the dark.
Everything within a ten-thousand-meter radius—bastions, machines, warriors, and Priests—was crushed into fist-sized fragments within a few breaths.
Pale green blood mixed with stone shards and wood splinters, coating the wreckage that remained on the ground once the darkness dissipated.
A Second-Tier Wizard had made his move.
The Amons' response was equally absurdly fast.
Almost at the same instant the Wizard world's Second-Tier combatant appeared, dozens of pale green figures shot out from the Amons' bastions.
Amons Second-Tier lifeforms.
The two forces collided in the air above the center of the battlefield.
In that instant, Ethan's eardrums nearly burst.
The shockwaves from the clash between the Second-Tier combatants radiated across the battlefield. Wherever they passed, the ground looked as if it had been struck by a giant sledgehammer, sending soil and rubble flying hundreds of meters into the air.
The cannon fodder units and Amons warriors caught in the shockwaves were vaporized instantly, having no time to even scream.
Ethan felt a heatwave slam into his back, sending him flying over a dozen meters. He tumbled several times across the ground before managing to steady himself.
When it came to a battle between Second-Tier lifeforms, one didn't even have the right to watch, let alone participate.
Unfortunately, without orders from Command, where was he supposed to run?
He just had to keep going.
The sky was changing colors.
One moment it was dark red, the next emerald green, and then it shifted to an eerie gray-white.
Every color change was accompanied by a violent tremor in the earth. It wasn't a tremor rising from beneath his feet; it felt as if the entire world were being repeatedly crushed by something.
An entire section of the region suddenly collapsed, forming a massive crater at least two kilometers in diameter.
Soil continued to slide down the edges of the pit, while white smoke billowed from the bottom, obscuring everything.
A beam of emerald light slashed down diagonally from the sky, striking the earth.
After the beam vanished, a charred trench several kilometers long remained, the soil at its edges melted into glass-like crystals by the intense heat.
Ethan looked up at the fierce battle in the sky, a single thought echoing in his mind.
Are these big shots insane?
Never mind the Second-Tier Wizards—what about you Second-Tier lifeforms of the Amons World?
The Wizards are the ones who need to prepare to adapt to the world's laws.
You don't need to adapt at all.
It's been half a day already.
Why did you only make a move once the Second-Tier Wizards attacked?
And where are your Third-Tier lifeforms?
Are they just going to watch their own people be slaughtered indiscriminately by this clash?
Do they really not care?
Oh, now that the Second-Tier Wizards are out, you follow suit.
And then you fight with such reckless abandon, completely ignoring your own people on the battlefield?
Absolute lunatics!
Meanwhile, inside the Amons command center...
The atmosphere was far less tense than it was outside.
Only the Third-Tier lifeforms remained in the room, making it feel quite empty.
Orion watched the battlefield images before him. Seeing his people fall in droves to the shockwaves, his eyes showed no shock or anger; instead, his expression grew increasingly relaxed.
Seeing this, the anxiety on Moram's face became even more apparent. "High Priest, my tribe has already lost three Second-Tier Sentinels. How much longer are you going to wait?"
Orion lifted his eyelids and glanced at him. "Wait."
"Wait? If we wait any longer, my tribe will be wiped out!" Moram's voice echoed through the circular hall. "Do you know how many resources it takes to nurture a Second-Tier Sentinel? A hundred and seventy years! A hundred and seventy years!"
"They are useless right now anyway. Sit down."
Moram's lips trembled, his amber eyes filled with resentment.
He stared at Orion's calm, unruffled face for a few breaths before finally sitting back down.
The hall fell silent for a few moments, but the atmosphere grew even more strained than before.
The other tribal chiefs didn't speak, but their expressions were much the same as Moram's.
After all, their own people and subordinates were dying every second.
Their power was constantly being eroded.
Just then, the side door of the hall was pushed open.
Seven figures entered in single file.
Leading them was a leopard-shaped magical beast just over four meters long, covered in dark gold fur where every hair shimmered with a metallic luster.
Its pupils were vertical amber slits, with fine silver patterns extending from the corners of its eyes. Its stride was steady and powerful, its claws clicking sharply against the stone floor.
This was Svidk, the King of the Jade-Feathered Leopards, a Third-Tier lifeform.
Six magical beasts of various forms followed behind him.
There was a serpent-like magical beast over ten meters long, with ink-colored patterns flowing over its dark green scales;
A giant bird of prey whose wingspan was enough to shroud half a street, its feathers deep brown with dark red edges;
And a stout bear-like magical beast covered in a rock-like gray-white shell, every step it took causing the ground to tremble slightly.
As the seven Third-Tier lifeforms entered the hall, the once spacious room suddenly felt quite crowded.
Svidk did not head for the empty seats. Instead, he walked straight to the front of the round table, his amber vertical pupils fixed on Orion.
"Orion, when will you fulfill the promise you made me? My children are being slaughtered on a massive scale."
His voice was low and deep, squeezed from the depths of his throat, carrying suppressed fury.
Orion looked up, his gaze sweeping over the six magical beasts behind Svidk before settling back on the leopard's face.
"Svidk, since when did you become so impatient? I will naturally fulfill what I promised you."
"Roar!" Svidk's front claw carved a shallow groove into the floor, sending stone fragments flying. "Do not give me excuses! Three leaders of my Jade-Feathered Leopard tribe have already died! Three! Do you understand what that means?"
The gazes of the other tribal chiefs in the hall darted between Orion and Svidk. Some frowned, some pursed their lips, and others quietly shifted their positions away from the confrontation.
"What? Are you questioning me?"
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