"Could you get in touch with the homeland?"
"Intermittently. Normal methods don't work, but some sleepers planted back home have sent back a few messages. The region where we originally were has become a lost environment, covered by vast swathes of Gray Mist."
"So we can't count on reinforcements?"
"We can't. A combat force capable of affecting our battle can't possibly be assembled in a short time. By the time they get here, we'll be finished. Besides, you know why."
"Heh, the rule that referees can't enter the field? I understand."
Lu PingAn calmly accepted the reality that help would not arrive, because he had never expected it in the first place.
On one hand, he understood the current environment and situation. On the other, Lady Lin had made a desperate gamble by cutting off her own arm. If it could truly be resolved so easily, it would be a joke.
There was simply no precedent for a god exploding directly on the ground and forcibly creating a Space Rift.
"The world also wants us to decide who wins."
At that moment, perhaps fate had favored Lady Lin as well, allowing her to create this independent battlefield.
Paths from the same source had returned to their origin at this stage. Like two trains colliding head-on, only the victor was destined to continue onward.
". . . Only one Lord of Life can exist in this position."
Lu PingAn looked into the distance, but a subtle unease stirred in his heart.
He realized that he had underestimated his own achievements. His efforts and progress during this period had likely made not only Lady Lin unable to endure any longer—even the other Gods of Life could no longer sit still.
"How many are there?"
Looking at the figures behind the mist, Lu