The Demon Eyes on the outskirts of the warzone had been destroyed. Only a few remained functional above the workshops, and compared to before, their reconnaissance range was limited to just 200 kilometers around the workshops.
But within this limited view, the red dots on the tactical sand table had blurred into a glaring sea of blood.
Allen stood before the sand table, his gaze locked onto the enemy's trajectory.
The enemy had no intention of splitting its forces. All the modified Magical Beasts were advancing in a fan formation, heading straight for the volcanic cluster located between the two workshops.
"Looks like he doesn't intend to split his forces," Allen said, his voice cold and hard.
On the light screen, Victor's tone was grave. "He's not splitting up? Then which of us is he planning to hit first?"
"Neither. He wants to take out our energy hub first."
