Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom...
One spatial airship pulverizing main cannon after another bombarded the ground from above. The destructive force of a more advanced, higher civilization descended upon this relatively primitive and simple barren world. The Screeching Cockroaches, buried beneath sand and soil for who knew how many years and slowly awakening after being drawn by the scent of their own kind's falling corpses, were blasted to pieces.
Whoosh!
Little Eight stood upon Green's shoulder as his body, flowing with multicolored runes, slowly descended from the sky. Tens of thousands of demon-hunter sorcerers silently followed behind him, with Green at their center.
Watching Wizard Civilization's overwhelming superiority over the Screeching Cockroach World, and seeing that this world had no power whatsoever to resist, the demon-hunter sorcerers could not help but reveal proud, cold smiles.
Before such a lowly, backward world, it felt as though they already held everything in their grasp.
Compared to the generation of demon-hunter sorcerers from Green's era, this generation, raised amid the glorification of the Wizard World's splendor during the war of civilizations, possessed somewhat less humility and fear toward unknown worlds, somewhat less urgency in the face of danger, and somewhat more pride—as if the mighty Wizard World had become omnipotent.
Yet the dual-colored eyes beneath Green's Face of Truth saw an entirely different scene.
Under the immense energy firepower blanketing the Wizard World, large numbers of Screeching Cockroaches buried in the sand and soil—awakened by the scent of food from the more than ten thousand Fold-wing Cockroaches killed first—were shattered before they had fully awakened. Their bodies became vast quantities of organic matter, splashing in every direction and sending a summons of awakening to even more dormant Screeching Cockroaches across an even wider expanse of this world.
Such military action was