Devouring worlds, the war of factions.
This was the daily routine of the Evil God.
For such superlative Oasis as theirs, these matters were too distant, and the concern of the Crown Prince was whether Blue Star could preserve a lineage under the pressure of the Evil God's camp or escape far away?
Or rather, had Blue Star already secretly arranged for some of its elites to leave.
The latter was more likely.
If he were the helmsman of Blue Star, he would do the same.
As the Crown Prince pondered, several great nobles gazed at the sky outside, at the rolling gray fog resembling waves, and their faces showed even greater worry.
An Earl started to speak, then hesitated, wanting to say something, then reconsidered, and after much thought, still chose his words carefully.
"Your Highness, since the Evil God's camp may arrive at any moment, we too must prepare early. Your body is worth its weight in gold; you must absolutely not put yourself in danger."
