There was very little wind in the God's kingdom. Whenever the weather was hot, it felt like they were in a steamer.
This feeling became even more obvious when they were on the ocean, as if they were in a steamer.
In the past, the God's kingdom was not like this. It was pleasant everywhere. However, as the indigenous gods fell into deep sleep, the environment began to become worse.
The spiriters of the Grand temple could control the weather changes in a small area, but it required the consumption of divine source, so they would never waste it easily.
War had never been poetic. Whether it was marching or fighting, they were both mental and physical torture.
The believers had no right to protest and could only silently endure it.
Tang Zhen stood with his hands behind his back on the command platform of the warship at the forefront. He stared at the sea region in front of him without blinking.
