"The defeat of the Turan Civilization—or rather, the entire Chaos Faction—was inevitable."
A flicker of realization surfaced in Meng Chao's heart.
Before witnessing the Bloodhoof Army's actual combat performance, he had still clung to a sliver of hope.
He had believed that Dragon City's disastrous defeat and destruction in his previous life had merely been because it had been dragged into the Another World War too late.
By then, the High-Level Orcs and the Holy Light Human Race had already slaughtered each other across the entire Eastern Front until the blood flowed like pestles and the world was a complete mess.
Dragon City Civilization had been left with no room to catch its breath or maneuver, forced to charge down a single dark road to the bitter end.
If he could find a way to delay the outbreak of the Another World War and shift the main battlefield from the Eastern Front to the Western Front, he could buy both Dragon City Civilization and Turan Civilization more time and opportunities to make fuller preparations for war, turn defeat into victory, and shatter the apocalypse.
Now, however, it seemed it was not that simple.
At the outset, the outcome of an ultimate war sweeping the globe did indeed depend on who seized the initiative first and caught the enemy off guard.
And on who possessed finer weapons and fiercer warriors.
But in the end, once the purpose of war changed from destruction to conquest, and from conquest to annihilation, the factors deciding victory became the overall national strength and civilizational level of both sides.
Whoever could tap their war potential to the utmost and mobilize one hundred percent of their resources into the war—
Would be able to seize the goddess of victory tightly into their arms.
High-Level Orcs were undoubtedly