Twelve years later.
There was still no word of the Round Table Conference. Green also knew that in a time of war like this, gathering all the Wizard World's supreme powers to convene the Round Table Conference could only happen before the Wizard Alliance Congress; many matters needed arranging.
The Stigmata Wizards visiting Green still came in an endless stream, but Green could not go on like this any longer. Over these years, he had finally adapted to the Wizard World of this new era and understood the basic state of affairs between the warring sides.
Just as Green had expected, the Metal Destroyer Civilization was already at an absolute disadvantage.
If it did not unleash some explosive means soon, it would only be pushed forward and gradually devoured by the Wizard Alliance, losing all its resource territories and heading toward destruction. This was a critical period—the period of the Metal Destroyer Civilization's deathbed struggle, its final desperate gamble.
Just like the ancient wizards when they faced the Alien Nightmare Civilization—it was precisely in that final hour of a race's survival that they completed their reversal!
Caw caw caw caw caw caw...
After more than a century of recuperation in the Wandering Dandelion Secret Realm and vigorous propagation in the Annihilation Tower Secret Realm, once the Three-Legged Death Crow had treated the population of its race as a matter of life and death, the number of Death Crows had changed. Scattered here and there, there were now four or five hundred of them—finally, they had gained a modest scale.
Green had even seen more than once that, for the sake of the race's numbers, this king of the Death Crows personally took the field and left behind his bloodline.
"This is the teleportation gate to the Spiritfolk World. Because of