On one planet, every intelligent being knelt on the ground and prayed.
"God of Fate, please don't attack the Fuerxi Empire. We want to live."
"When you gods fight, please don't drag us into it."
Reisad had already made arrangements, stationing large numbers of fleets above inhabited planets.
He had also told their inhabitants the truth: the Empire was fighting the God of Fate and faced destruction, and the way to counter the God of Fate was to slaughter vast numbers of living beings.
The Empire did not want to carry out the slaughter either, and had informed the God of Fate of the situation. If the God of Fate stopped now, these beings would receive generous compensation.
But if the God of Fate insisted on attacking, then they could only apologize for what came next.
Of course, the Fuerxi Empire had never told Rice. All of this was merely intended to make the living beings resent Fate.
A commander coldly gave the order. "Do it."
Bombs the size of soccer balls dropped from high above. Rather than exploding on impact, they released thick purple smoke.
Vegetation withered in vast swaths, and insects with little vitality died immediately. The planet's inhabitants, who had human torsos and horse bodies, did not die right away.
Instead, their faces turned purple as they shrieked in agony.
The poison did not kill them immediately. It made them suffer immense pain, wailing continuously until they died.
Only by prolonging their deaths and intensifying their suffering could their hatred grow stronger.
If they died in a second, their resentment would surely amount to little.
One centaur spat venomously, "Damn the Empire. What did we ever do wrong?"
He felt little resentment toward Fate. He only hated the Fuerxi Empire, the executioner.
But not everyone thought the