That night.
Yang Fan was resting in bed when a voice suddenly rang out in his mind.
"Master."
Hearing Yang Da's voice, Yang Fan instantly opened his eyes.
With a thought, his consciousness descended directly into his Divine Kingdom.
The next second, the scene before him swiftly changed.
"Master, the Frontline army has now advanced into the Angel Race's Divine Kingdom Core."
"According to our reconnaissance, their final defensive line is about to deploy. The final battle between our armies will begin shortly."
Yang Da delivered his report respectfully.
Yang Fan nodded slightly at his words.
Then he looked up at the live battlefield footage transmitted from the front.
Across the boundless sky, two armies stood facing each other from afar.
On the Angel Race's side.
Countless angels beat their pitch-black wings, Holy Spears in hand, their ranks neatly arrayed in the void.
They stretched into the distance, so densely packed that no end was visible.
Intense light radiated from these angels, but madness and murderous intent now mingled with that once-pure white glow.
They had been driven into a corner.
At the center of the endless angel army, an enormous Divine Throne floated in the void.
Lufa, the Angel Race's god, sat upon it.
By now, none of his former majesty remained.
His eyes were bloodshot, their corners nearly splitting as he stared fixedly at the enemies before him.
Over the years, he had watched helplessly as his Divine Kingdom was eaten away, bit by bit.
He had watched countless believers die.
He had watched his foundations crumble.
Now, only one thought remained in his mind—kill!
Whatever the cost, he would make the enemy pay dearly.
On the other side, Yang Fan's army still maintained its original formation.
At the very front stood a vast number of Intelligent Gundams.