The Sickle-Skull Race's Response

Only a month had passed since the three of them returned to the main camp with their important discovery.

Benjamin stood on the Wizard Legion's central observation platform, watching the black tide gathering and surging once more beyond the distant horizon. He let out a helpless sigh.

This time, the Sickle-Skull Race had reacted far faster than any previous record.

Barely more than a month into the sixth cycle, they could no longer hold themselves back. They had assembled an unimaginably vast army and assumed the posture of an all-out decisive battle.

They no longer seemed content with passive trial-and-error learning. They had become exceedingly impatient.

Frost appeared at the edge of the platform, his gaze equally grave as he looked into the distance.

"Advisor Benjamin, how are the various research projects progressing? Has there been any substantive breakthrough in verifying the 'paradox,' or probing those possibly existing 'higher wills'?"

Benjamin withdrew his gaze and turned to the commander, a wry smile on his face. "Most of the research has only just used the data obtained in the previous cycle to establish theoretical models and experimental plans. We are entering the stage of deep deduction and verification design. Many key conjectures—such as the mechanism by which the 'paradox' takes effect, and whether individuals above Level Eight possess 'resistance to correction'—still require more precise experiments and longer observation to confirm. Our manpower and time... are still far too tight."

In other words, although the knowledge had been passed down through the Recording Crystals, the process of wizards digesting it, understanding it, and innovating upon that foundation could not be accelerated.

Frost frowned deeply.

He understood the rigor of research, but the battlefield would not wait.

"I understand. I will do my utmost to drag this battle into a war of attrition