The Current Situation and Their Debut

"I am Artorius." The old man's voice was not loud, yet it reached everyone's ears with perfect clarity. "Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force for this Samsara Plane."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the entire assembly.

"The mission briefing you received should have explained the basics. But the situation has changed—"

Artorius's voice echoed over the wasteland, every word striking against the wizards' consciousness like cold metal.

"The enemy has already grown wary of us. At this stage, if our high-level wizards unleash their full strength, it will inevitably trigger a reversal of time. Therefore, apart from one Level 7 Wizard, we will not intervene."

The old man's gaze swept over the three thousand newly arrived reinforcements below the platform. His eyes held the weariness and sharpness accumulated through countless cycles.

"Furthermore, after more than a hundred cycles, those Sickle-Skull Race members—or rather, those individuals of the Sickle-Skull Race in this timeline who have awakened and retained their memories—have come to know our tactics, habits, and even ways of thinking like the backs of their hands."

He paused, and a rare gravity seeped into his tone.

"In that cycle, they knew the patrol routes of every wizard squad. They could predict the range of a Level 7 Wizard's law coverage. They even developed biochemical resistance variants tailored to specific spells. With every inch of land we advanced, the price we paid increased."

Suppressed gasps rose from below.

Benjamin silently processed the implications behind those words.

More than a hundred cycles—this meant that, to the Sickle-Skull Race living on that timeline, they had already fought the same batch of wizards more than a hundred times.

Like players repeatedly challenging the same stage, they would always find the optimal solution.

"Therefore, you are the variables."

Artorius raised a hand, his fingertips tracing