Inside the Kona Satellite landing zone, Lin Mo had just finished inscribing a large-scale formation.
He was about to raise his staff and chant when the Pangu Mecha beside him suddenly turned its head, its electronic eyes flashing.
"Master, the latest news has arrived from Tianshu Command Center."
"The orbital plasma bug swarm is withdrawing, and the ground forces of the Demon Clan are disengaging from the battlefield at the same time."
"We have won."
Lin Mo's hand trembled sharply around his staff.
"They're retreating?"
His first reaction was not wild joy, but a little bewilderment.
Just moments ago, there had been hundreds of kilometer-long plasma bugs in the sky and a boundless demon tide on the ground.
The Demon Clan had looked ready to swallow up the landing zone and the portal together.
How long had it even been?
They had fled?
The Pangu Mecha's voice remained steady.
"The news has been confirmed. The plasma bug swarm is moving away from Kona Satellite, and the ground forces of the Demon Clan are also withdrawing."
"Those still attacking our positions are primarily low-order demon clan forces, assessed to be cannon fodder covering the retreat."
Lin Mo immediately walked to the edge of the portal and looked up toward the distant, gray wasteland.
Artillery fire still thundered.
The tracks of unmanned combat vehicles rolled over broken stone, their cannons spitting bursts of orange-red flame that tore the charging lesser demons to pieces.
Kona's air shimmered in the intense heat. The smells of mangled flesh, scorched earth, and metal coolant mingled, stinging his nose.
But farther away, along the horizon, that black tide was indeed receding.
The Demon Clan Army was gradually disappearing.
After confirming it with his own eyes, Lin Mo finally released the breath in his chest and burst out