Don't confiscate my identity as a human race

But at the same time, there was a sense of discord.

The ground was covered in shattered stones and broken walls, swirling high in the air like a mad storm.

The atmosphere around them was compressed, becoming dense and heavy.

At this very moment, the entire Cerryti Empire and even the whole northern part of the South Continent held their breath, waiting for the initial clash of the battle.

Who gains the upper hand and who falls behind will determine who truly occupies the position of the Challenger.

Countless eyes were fixed on the broadcast lens, which continuously shook and flashed with glitches.

"Could it be that you cannot attack, rather than do not want to attack?"

Hesintos paused in slashing at this White Robed Pope and asked, allowing the blizzard in the briefly calm air current to fall again with gravity.

Even if the opponent knew he excelled at Counter Magic, they shouldn't continue to be this inactive.

This kind of waiting combined with the Pope's initial threat-like proposal for a thirty-minute truce seemed more like a long-term delay strategy.

The opponent was waiting.

Waiting for a chance to counterattack, an opportunity to turn the tide of battle.

Or perhaps waiting for an opportune moment.

But is that moment on the battlefield or outside it?

"You might as well take a gamble."

Lanci, as always, played psychological games.

"The more I look at you, the more I feel there's something wrong."

Hesintos analyzed, thinking the White Robed Pope seemed more like an actor than a truly powerful figure.

The White Robed Pope's defense was rather unreasonable from the start.

No defense is perfect and flawless; the stronger the defense, the greater the price and more limitations it generally implies, but this White Robed Pope's defense seemed to have no weaknesses or negative effects.

It was like an eternal wall standing before Hesintos, unwavering under any attack from him.

Unless the White Robed Pope's incredible defensive ability came at some cost, perhaps he had no capability to attack, with all his power focused on defense.

Or it might be further that the White Robed Pope was bluffing from the start, not being that powerful at all.

"Since you're unwilling to make a move, I'll go deal with your companion first, and then let's see if you can stop me."

Hesintos looked directly at the White Robed Pope and said.

"..."

The White Robed Pope appeared calm on the surface, but in fact, he felt he was about to lose control.

His biggest weakness was not anything else, but that if Hesintos wanted to leave, he couldn't stop him.

Once he sustained for a period, Hesintos would surely discover the issue.

The only thing Lanci could do was delay Hesintos as long as possible.

But it seemed that now that time had reached its limit.

"You're really not going to stop me?"

Hesintos smiled, and his test was indeed successful.

Just when Hesintos was about to ignore the White Robed Loren and leave.

Suddenly, he paused mid-step.

"..."

Hesintos frowned and turned his head, looking towards the direction of the Divine Descendant Hall on the west side of Brilda.

Because in that instant, he sensed an unprecedented Magic Fluctuation.

And Lanci finally exhaled in relief, breathing out a white mist.

"Sigrid, I knew you were the most reliable."

He whispered with a smile at the corner of his mouth.

The magic was pure and powerful, like a thunderclap, echoing in the depths of the souls of all the strong in the city of Brilda.

Two kilometers away.

Simon Luo, reinforcing the Barrier, stared wide-eyed towards the west side of Brilda.

"What on earth is happening..."

This magic was too familiar to Simon Luo.

More clearly than when he was at Valhalla Canyon, some three hundred kilometers east of the border of the Arolan Kingdom, during the battle to siege Loren.

If he hadn't used his eyes to see and only used Magic Power to sense, the presence in the direction of the Divine Descendant Hall felt more like Loren than the White Robed Loren at Cret Memorial Square!

...

Southeast Hassel Port, within the Bulida Mafia territory.

In the snowflakes, Isatia moved gracefully, curse sparks dancing between her fair fingers. When she puffed her cheeks and blew on the flame, it turned into a sky full of pitch-black Curses, enveloping all the enemies.

These cursed flames, like living creatures, rushed towards the Eighth Army God Konzel as their main target. Wherever they passed, the blizzard instantly evaporated, turning into wisps of black smoke.

The tongues of flame greedily scorched the metallic body of Eighth Army God Konzel of Bright Goldstone, producing a sizzling sound.

Konzel let the flames ravage his body.

Under the firelight, his entire metallic armor was as invincible as a metal fortress, burning with flames yet unable to cause him any pain.

"Don't think you'll succeed, Seventh Army God!"

Talia's eyes caught a flash of firelight, and with a turn of her hand, gray vine cracks suddenly spread out, like giant pythons coiling around hard thorns, charging at the approaching Seventh Army God Philip of Blood Jade.

From the start, Philip of Blood Jade had wanted to break through their defenses to find Migaya.

The vines cut containers in half, crushing everything in their path.

"Annoying pest."

Fourth Military God Jade Jaspel commanded the Mechanical Army to intercept.

Countless mechanical puppets soared into the sky, entangled with the vines.

Lasers and gunfire clashed with thorns and branches, cutting through vines while mechanical puppets were also knocked away, filling the sky with debris and scraps, leaving the surrounding area ravaged and devastated.

Philip, who managed to dodge the control of the vines, had completely entered a rampage state.