Everything was proceeding in an orderly fashion. Everyone knew that the moment the Sovereign appeared would be the moment of the final battle.
Other than the Artillery Positions and anti-air positions that had to maintain suppressive fire, the exchanges between the Angels and the City of Immortals gradually died down. No intact rock remained near the middle of Fimbulwinter Mountain. The once-whole ridgeline now looked as if a Titan Giant had taken a bite out of it. Yet such losses were still bearable for the Angels, because only Lower Angels and mid-ranking Angels had died. These creatures, who had never studied military theory, had no idea why the City of Immortals had constructed such a three-dimensional defensive network. As for the City of Immortals preventing them from leaving, the Angels cared even less. They had never intended to leave Fimbulwinter in the first place.
With the help of Victoria Hand's vicious scheming and pragmatic spirit, certain ornate Baroque-style little boxes that Baron Mordo had repeatedly declared should be avoided whenever possible were transported into the positions. Their contents were mixed into the flamethrower fuel without hesitation. At this moment, the Angels still had no idea what kind of weapon Victoria Hand had prepared for them.
Due to the special nature of these weapons, the flamethrowers were entrusted to the Sisterhood.
Tita had none of Sophia's worries. She did not need to fear that the soldiers under her command would be corrupted by the enemy's power during battle. The Sisterhood had already labeled these enemies "false angels" and used steadfast faith as a weapon against their "hypocritical sorcery." To be honest, even the head of the Intelligence Department could not help but pause at those words. She then glanced at the Kamar-Taj Arcanist standing nearby, but Agent Hand had always been