The war ended quickly.
Once Benjamin defeated the dozen or so Level 8 Kings of the Sacred Spirits, the Spirit Race's resistance collapsed completely.
Some of the remaining lower-ranked Sacred Spirits surrendered. Others tried to flee, but the Black Giants and the Dragonblood Mushroom Legion captured them one by one.
The Bat People were even easier to deal with. Though the Sacred Spirits had already been defeated, they were still being controlled and forced to attack.
But to Benjamin's army, those creatures posed no real threat. A few squads split off and dealt with them easily.
Benjamin hovered above the Holy City and surveyed the scene below. With the mist gone, the plain beneath the city came into view: a barren expanse of yellow-brown earth, almost devoid of vegetation.
In fact, he had seen plenty of the same on the march here: dried-up rivers, bare hills, and no sign of life between the cities.
Apart from the Bat People enslaved by the Spirit Race, the entire world was a wasteland.
Benjamin shook his head regretfully. "This plane has little value left."
The Spirit Race had controlled it for too long. They had stripped away most of its resources and brought the Natives entirely under the control of biological tentacles.
To the wizards, this world, meant to serve as a stepping stone, was like a piece of fruit squeezed dry.
Methods such as extracting its plane origin could still yield some returns, but its greatest riches were gone.
"Never mind. This is a good chance to try my new spell."
After some thought, Benjamin ordered the Black Giant Priests to seal the Spatial Passage he had previously blocked.
Soon, the Black Giant Priests brought him a fist-sized sphere of light wrapped in layer upon layer of runes.
Benjamin put the sphere