"The battlefront has fully stabilized. Every unit engaging the Utopia's spires now holds a clear advantage. For the moment, all teams are adopting a conservative strategy to minimize losses. At this pace, we expect complete eradication of our designated targets within the next half hour."

Across the communication network of Skyborne City, frontline reports of the Alliance Legions' clash with Utopia were being transmitted rapidly to every squad still engaged with the spires.

After three spires had fallen in swift succession, the remaining structures had regressed to the weakened state they were in before linking to the network—and were perhaps even worse off. With several strategic trump cards, including a few yet-unused strategic-tier curios, the Alliance now held an undeniable lead.

"Any confirmation on who destroyed the towers?"

"Confirmed. The Archbishop of the Church of Nightfall, Wang Yu."

"He must be incredibly powerful... I'm grateful he's on our side."

"As am I. If you saw the scars left on the battlefield, you'd have a far clearer idea of just what he's capable of."

"In any case, we owe the Archbishop our sincere thanks. The advantage gained from the destruction of those three spires has spread across the entire front. It's saved lives and secured our strategic momentum.

"We cannot squander the opportunity he bought for us. Keep it steady and finish the towers as soon as possible. Skyborne City remains at full combat readiness. We're monitoring void activity at maximum sensitivity. The moment we detect anything unusual, we'll use the network to conduct large-scale spatial displacement and reinforce the battlefield."

The operators of Skyborne City exchanged updates with the Alliance command, speaking at length about Wang Yu—the overwhelming force who had single-handedly eliminated three of Utopia's towers—and confirming their strategy for pressing the advantage.

A thunderous roar split the sky. A crimson dragon tore through the clouds. It was supplemented by the concentrated dragonbreath of eight other dragons around it and the barrage of spells and wizardry unleashed by the Alliance legions behind it. Cloaked in fire and fury, it smashed through layer after layer of defensive barriers, shattered the void-warped shielding around the spire, and shot toward its peak.

Powerful talons, tempered by surging fire mana, tore brutally at the spire's outer shell. Heat roiled from the dragon's scales as it began rending the structure apart.

"This is it, the core Wang Yu described."

After confirming that what lay in the breach matched the description received moments earlier through the Prayer Network, the great red dragon drew a blazing sphere of compressed, violent energy into its maw and launched it downward.

The blast struck the exposed inner chamber. Explosions rippled through the structure as the red dragon used the shockwave to flip backward and retreat to a safe distance.

Before its burning gaze, the Utopian spire collapsed into fire and ash. This spire, nearest to the kingdom of Aleisterre and already besieged by several dragons, was the first to fall after Wang Yu's spontaneous destruction of the initial three.

"The fourth spire has been eliminated."

The report spread instantly. Morale surged through the Alliance once more. At this rate, the remaining spires would be dealt with swiftly.

"Just how strong is Wang Yu, really...?"

The red dragon beat its wings, muttering to itself. It had taken the combined effort of several dragons and the Alliance to destroy a single, already-weakened spire—yet the Archbishop had erased three on his own in a fraction of the time. Just how powerful was he now?

"Bryon, don't rely too heavily on Lord Wang Yu," came a voice from the side. The white dragon patriarch, Miselyx, glided up beside one of the strongest red dragons of their kind. "He made it clear that three spires was his limit in his current state. The rest falls to us and the Alliance."

Wang Yu had explained things plainly to Miselyx earlier: "In my current condition, three towers is my limit. Beyond that, I can help you open up enemy defenses, but that's about it."

It was a message for the Church of Nightfall, and a reminder to the dragons that even Wang Yu had limits. Yet to Miselyx and others who were more observant, he seemed to be holding something back—though what that something was, none could yet guess.

"Lord Wang Yu... just what are those two ‘plans' you mentioned?"

The thought flickered through Miselyx's mind, but he dismissed it. This was not the time for speculation.

"Move. Aurelian will open the way. Another spire is nearby. We'll join the assault teams and bring it down."

As he spoke, a silver fissure split the air—one of Aurelian's portals. One by one, the dragons swept into the rift, teleporting to their next battlefield.

"Hm?"

Meanwhile, up high in Skyborne City, among the hundreds of wizards monitoring the continent for void disturbances, one suddenly frowned. A faint spike of void energy had appeared in the region under his supervision, slightly stronger than the background fluctuations. He focused on the point immediately, but the anomalous pulse vanished almost at once.

"Did you catch that void fluctuation just now?"

Rather than dismissing it as a hallucination, the wizard cautiously turned to his colleague who monitored the same sector.

"I saw it. You do know what region that is, don't you? It's the theocracy of the God of Light. Tiny void fluctuations like that are normal there."

The colleague's tone was relaxed. There was no need for alarm. In that land, such disturbances were nothing unusual.

"I know—but that fluctuation didn't feel ordinary. Given the situation we're in, don't we have to be cautious?"

The wizard did not abandon his suspicions.

"Is that so? Well, the data from the last forty-eight hours is here. I've checked it myself. There are no issues. None of the deviations exceed ten percent of normal values."

His colleague summoned a document with a ripple of void energy, then handed it to the first wizard for verification.

The wizard's gaze swept rapidly across the figures. He ran the numbers against the fluctuation he had just observed. His calculations confirmed the colleague's assessment: there was no error. The deviation was slightly elevated, close to nine percent, but wasn't past the ten-percent threshold.

"...You're right. There isn't a problem at all. And after all, this is the theocracy of the God of Light. Would the Utopia really dare to target the sanctuary of a god? It's highly unlikely. I must be overthinking it."

The wizard shook his head, reassured. Because the God of Light existed—because his faith itself radiated outward—the void fluctuations around His kingdom were naturally higher. As long as the readings stayed beneath the threshold, there was no need for special measures.

"Exactly. In times like these, vigilance is natural. Who knows what the Utopia has in mind? Just make sure to confirm things before you act. We can't afford to waste Skyborne City's strength."

His colleague didn't seem bothered by his moment of paranoia, and simply resumed his focused observation of the void.

Within the theocracy of the God of Light itself, things were quieter than usual. Streets that once bustled now felt almost hollow; the number of travelers and merchants had dwindled. The reason was simple—the war against the Utopia.

Because the Utopia's spiritual attacks could slip past mental defenses, the clergy and holy knights of the Light had departed without hesitation to aid the kingdoms of the continent. And seeing this, many ordinary believers followed, volunteering to support other realms against possible psychic assault.

Such was the Church of Light. Once it deemed something righteous, its followers acted without hesitation, even if their zeal sometimes led to unintended consequences. It was written into their doctrine.

Of course, calling them fanatical would be an overstatement. At least three quarters of the citizens remained behind. Those who left were simply the devout; those who stayed were never coerced.

The material world remained peaceful. No strongholds of the Utopia stood near the kingdom, sparing it from the war's front lines.

But in the void, things unseen in the material realm were unfolding.

The coordinates of the void were chaotic when mapped to the physical world, yet there were regions of rough correspondence.

In the portion of the void linked to the God of Light hovered an immense sphere of radiant gold—a gentle, warming light that calmed the surrounding chaos. Even though the void was filled with ever-twisting madness and deathly stillness, a pocket of peace radiated from this presence.

This was the God of Light. His followers envisioned Him in countless forms, but in objective truth, this colossal luminescent sphere was His true shape.

Like the Tree of the Night, countless glowing threads extended outward from it, vanishing across immeasurable distances—paths of faith connecting deity and believer. Some strands were thick and others fine, reflecting the strength of each believer's devotion.

Beneath the great sphere sat a humanoid figure, his gaze fixed on a distant point in the void, as though awaiting something or someone.

If Father Fang were here, he would recognize the figure immediately. The face was the same as the one revered on the continent: the Pope of the Church of Light. They were one and the same.

A white-haired youth emerged, stepping out of the folds of the void and into the Pope's presence. His pace was steady, unhurried, as he approached.

"It's been a long time. You were expecting me, weren't you? Fascinating... to alter the God of Light's image over the long centuries into something so vague, so impossible to define. I suppose I should commend your efforts."

"Yes," the Pope replied softly. "Guiding the world to reshape His manifestation was the only way I could resist you. I reject what you stand for. And so I have done everything in my power to hinder you. Now... let me witness whether the meaning I gave to all these years has any worth at all."