The Dragon God System and the Elf God System were locked in conflict.
The Gith Empire and the Dwarf Divine System fought each other without end.
At the same time.
Somewhere had already been reduced to ruins.
Upon a wilderness plain strewn with gnawed-clean bones,
Dimogegen watched the gods who had appeared before him.
Solemn expressions emerged on both of his heads.
He had clashed with them more than once or twice.
Yet in those rounds of battle,
he had gained almost no advantage.
In fact, more often than not, he had been the one to suffer losses.
The reason was simple.
He and his opponent were fundamentally incompatible.
And in order to deal with this great nuisance,
during this recent stretch of time,
he had made no small effort to gather information about them.
He had intended to take advantage of the Cataclysm of the Saints and eliminate them while they were weakened.
But the results were clearly less than ideal.
Not only had Dimogegen failed to find their actual coordinates,
he had even been toyed with by them several times.
Now,
near his stronghold in the World of Toril,
as he watched his opponent take the initiative to appear before him,
that fellow known as the God of Justice,
after a fleeting moment of delight,
wariness and hesitation quickly arose in Dimogegen's heart.
They forced him to suppress
his eager urge to summon every subordinate in the surrounding area and surround them for the kill.
This was especially true when he saw that Tyr had other gods at his side.
He did not believe they had come near his stronghold to deliver a gift package.
There had to be, without question, some conspiracy or trap waiting for him.
Therefore,
after narrowing his eyes, Dimogegen did not strike directly.