"..." After Pythor's declaration, Robin fixed his gaze on Amon, doesn't know how to think of this.
Pythor's words weren't without merit. The battle between the Great Serpent Empire's main army and the demons was, by all accounts, already decided. The numerical difference was insurmountable. But one thing still lingered— a chance. It lay in the meticulously crafted plan left by Sakaar and Amon's flawless execution.
"To be honest, this front is dead in my eyes. It's only a matter of time before they kill them all and return to besiege the city," Pythor waved dismissively, turning his sharp eyes back to Robin. He then gestured toward another battlefield. "And that's not the only front I've bet on. Your trusted powerhouses won't last long either."
