Ethan stared at the footage on his phone, his expression tightening as he thought.
Judging by how they fought, he could roughly pin the dwarves' strength somewhere above Stage A but below Stage S.
That put them around the same level as the Stoneborn—still a step weaker than the Winged Clan. At the very least, Aeralon from the Winged Clan was already above Stage S.
The problem was their numbers.
There had to be over eight thousand of them. And Ethan couldn't tell if that was their whole race… or just a slice of it.
But logically, no race only had that few.
Which meant this was probably just a vanguard.
That was how it always went. Nobody threw their entire population into an unfamiliar world on day one. You sent scouts first. A forward unit to test the waters.
If his guess was right, then the Void Realm creatures spilling out of the Void Realm so far… were only the advance force.
The thought made Ethan's scalp prickle.
