In a divine war, ramming divine kingdoms into each other was also a widely known tactic.
A divine kingdom was the condensation of vast amounts of divine power, the ultimate incarnation of a god. To an individual god, the divine kingdom was Their true body; to a pantheon, it was the aggregate of all their power.
Without question, if one pursued sheer destructive force, gathering everyone's power into the divine kingdom and then driving it straight into the enemy was indeed the strongest and most forceful approach.
Other than detonating the divine kingdom itself, there was no more powerful method.
And detonating a divine kingdom more or less meant a god's death. Using that move meant preparing to perish together with the enemy. Compared to that, a divine kingdom collision was at least not quite so vicious; there was, at minimum, still a chance of not dying together.
But... in reality, nearly every use of a divine kingdom collision ended in a divine kingdom explosion.
When two divine kingdoms came into zero-distance contact—or rather, negative-distance contact—the laws of the two gods, or the laws of the two pantheons, would inevitably clash in the most direct manner.
This kind of clash was the fiercest of all, directly shaking the foundations of the divine kingdoms. Under such circumstances, with only a little more force applied, the more severely damaged divine kingdom might undergo a self-detonation.
In fact, gods who used this move generally intended to ram into their enemy and then self-detonate.
After all, self-detonation meant death, and not self-detonating also meant death. Once it came to death either way, even the most frail and timid god would muster a fearless resolve and make a last-ditch fight.
Even a rabbit, when driven to desperation, would kick an eagle. Even a weak god