Kingdom of Milanía, Camp Kent Mountain.

The camp was a hive of activity, with soldiers bustling back and forth, some carrying stretchers with wounded soldiers, others assisting the medics in transporting medical supplies and aiding in surgeries.

Despite the unfortunate circumstances, Camp Kent Mountain had managed to escape the brunt of the divine war's aftermath due to its location on the outskirts of the core area. Half of the camp was shielded by the mountain, sparing it from total destruction and enabling the Milanía troops stationed there to rescue their injured comrades.

Outside the mountain, the energy released from the divine eruption had caused devastating effects. Inside Camp Kent Mountain, the soldiers were not so much rescuing the wounded as they were transporting bodies.

The few surviving soldiers seemed to have gone through a nightmare. Even for Granzon, who had relied on Chi to shield himself and protect over a dozen of his closest guards from the blast, the outcome was still heart-wrenching.

"Have the casualty numbers been tallied?"

A semi-permanent fortress used to house artillery had become Granzon's temporary command center, with his spacious tent now filled with wounded soldiers. Though he was making decisions, Granzon himself was not in the best shape to personally oversee every detail.

*Cough, cough...*

A sharp pain gripped his lungs, causing him to cough uncontrollably. As he covered his mouth, he noticed specks of blood on his hand.

The aftermath of the battle was taking its toll. Though most of his wounds had been treated by the physician, and the symptoms were expected, Granzon couldn't help but feel a sense of regret. After all, he used to be a fearless war god capable of leading charges into enemy lines; how had he ended up like this?

He wore military pants on his lower body, and his chest was wrapped in layers of bandages due to the injuries sustained in battle. With just a cloak draped over his shoulders, revealing his muscular chest and abdomen, he sat casually on a chair – this was the War King now.

Aside from his illustrious achievements in battle, the War King was also known for the royal beauty passed down through generations, enhanced by the slight furrow of his brow from pain, adding a somewhat alluring quality to him.

Of course, Granzon paid no mind to these trivial matters; his focus was on the battle report. Without any updates from the frontlines and no reconnaissance of the Maston army's situation, the tally only included casualties suffered by their own forces.

"Not even ten thousand...?"

The actual casualties from the battle with the Maston army accounted for less than a third of the total losses. Most of the fallen soldiers were caught in the crossfire while withdrawing from the battlefield, succumbing to the aftermath of the divine clash at close range.

With this defeat, both army corps of the Central Army were decimated. The corps generals, two vice-generals, and twelve flag officers under their command were all lost, with most of the remaining officers and soldiers suffering casualties. With their combat capability significantly reduced, they could only look towards post-battle reconstruction or even the complete dissolution of their units.

The only reassurance for Granzon was that the enemy had suffered a similar devastating blow. Presumably, the main invading forces of Maston had been annihilated, and the scattered remnants within Milanía's borders would think twice before launching any large-scale attacks in the short term.

"So, this might be a good opportunity now."

The more Granzon thought about it, the more it made sense. "Guards!"

"Here!"

A messenger hurriedly entered the fortress outside the main gate.

"Is the long-range communication device still intact?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. The protection of the magitech devices is of the highest priority, and there have been no damages reported. However, the magic wavebands in the vicinity have been disrupted by the previous impact, and using them may be difficult until the situation stabilizes."

"Unusable?" Granzon was taken aback for a moment before regaining his composure. "Dispatch scouts to deliver messages and continue trying with the magitech communication. Inform the Spear of Dawn promptly to cease their monitoring of Brad, to swiftly traverse the Kent Mountain Range towards Blackstone Citadel, reclaim it, and cut off the enemy's retreat."

Earlier concerns about Brad centered around the risk of a prolonged standoff with the enemy's main forces and the danger of having their supply lines cut. But now that both sides had been equally dealt heavy blows, there was no need to worry about extended engagements anymore.

On the other hand, the temporary halt in communication from the Kent Mountain battlefield presented Milanía with the perfect opportunity.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

After saluting, the messenger left, leaving the fortress in a momentary calm. As far as military operations went, Milanía would have to rely on the Spear of Dawn, but Granzon also wondered about the situation along the western coastline.

With communication disrupted, all Granzon could do now was to ensure the troops at Camp Kent Mountain rested and recovered. Fortunately, their supplies were well-stocked from previous reserves, and with a significant reduction in personnel, they could sustain their medical and food supplies for a short period without facing shortages.

And then...

Granzon turned his body, his gaze passing through the window originally used for launching cannon fire, down the mountain.

The battlefield below had gone quiet for quite some time, and he wondered about the developments that followed.

"Little Tiran, a force like yours surely wouldn't meet any troubles, right?"

Since she was a child, his daughter had displayed remarkable talents in both strength and various peculiar abilities, along with a level of speech and thinking that far exceeded her age. Despite her frequent assertive behavior, even the King had rarely felt the need to worry or protect her.

Or as Miss Tiran would say, "fulfilling the duty and vanity of being a good father"...

But faced with powers beyond comprehension, Granzon couldn't help but feel anxious.

"Huh, Dad, you seem to know me well. Guess that's because you're my dad, right?"

"Little Tiran?!"

Granzon turned around abruptly, unbelievingly witnessing Tiran supporting a similarly tall black-haired woman as they entered, with Aya following behind, looking somewhat helpless.

"It's your daughter speaking."

Tiran raised her chin while helping the woman, Lengxiang, to the only chair inside the small artillery fort – the one in front of Granzon.

"Come, take care of the wounded, let me have a seat."

"Hey, I'm a wounded soldier too..." Granzon sighed. "My heart aches, Little Tiran, you're no longer Daddy's most considerate little sponge."

"I'm the reliable bulletproof vest, Dad." Tiran rolled her eyes and couldn't help but chuckle. "And if you can still flirt around, your injuries can't be that severe."

Ignoring Tiran's remark, Granzon stood up. Not because of what Tiran said but because he recognized the woman Tiran was supporting – the same woman who had saved him from Shadir's blade earlier.

But who would have thought that she, with the power to effortlessly defeat a Holy Rank, would end up in such a state?

Although Aya had done her best to treat Lengxiang's injuries, the healing spells had minimal effect on a divine being's body. Perhaps the energy required to repair Lengxiang's immortal form was too substantial?

After the departure of the Goddess of the Light, Aya had utilized her highest-level healing spells for about ten minutes, only then had she managed to realign Lengxiang's twisted limb and mend the fractures in her bones.

This ultra-efficient healing technique could bring someone on the brink of death back to vitality in an instant. A continuous application for ten minutes with an overflow of life essence would have been more than enough to revive an ordinary person numerous times.

However, even if Aya wanted to continue healing Lengxiang's wounds, it seemed futile. Perhaps Lengxiang's divine body had developed immunity to the healing spells?

"It's residual divine power from the Orc God. Don't worry, I can handle the rest of the internal injuries myself. This much is enough for now," Lengxiang reassured.

"In any case, things got a bit chaotic earlier, and some matters are still unclear." Granzon cleared his throat and addressed Lengxiang, "Firstly, allow me to express my gratitude once again, Your Highness Lengxiang. From now on, if there is anything you need assistance with, Granzon Elysian will spare no effort, and Milanía will be the most loyal friend of the Western Empire Chu in West Land."

"Father-in-law, no need for such formality."

Lengxiang blinked. "We're family now, helping each other should be natural... hmm?"

Before she could finish her sentence, Tiran hastily covered her mouth. "We haven't decided on that yet!"

Was Lengxiang's personality domineering, or was she just straightforward to the point of being naturally naive?

"Hehe, are you still shy? Alright, I respect your wishes."

Lengxiang seemed to sigh, making no attempt to resist.

Granzon gained a rough understanding of the events involving the Beast God's intervention from Tiran. Even he couldn't help but sigh at the developments.

Whether for the King, who was still within the realm of ordinary people, or for anyone in general, the sudden involvement of gods from different races with varying levels of faith was unprecedented. Such a situation would even be too overwhelming for those of Holy Rank; if the Temple Church were to hear of this, they might have to make entries in their scriptures.

However, there was no room to investigate the casualties amongst the Milanía forces.

"Isn't this just a case of 'acts of God'?" Granzon chuckled wryly.

"Well, we have no other choice, right? Besides, spreading word about divine matters might not be prudent. After all, you've only recently shed the 'Holy' title, haven't you?" Tiran shrugged.

"Speaking of which, have you thought about the next steps?" Aya, leaning against the wall, raised her hand to interject out of boredom.

Next steps?

Glancing at his daughter and then at Aya, Granzon's lips curled into an uncontrollable smile.

Certainly, while the Milanía forces had suffered a significant blow, overall, they had managed to gain the upper hand in the consecutive actions. Both original Holy Ranks on the opposite side were significantly depleted, and now, Tiran and Aya could easily sway the tide of any battlefield they appeared on.

"Ah... speaking of which, Aya, what about Hazel?"

...

Far, far away, in the wilderness, a self-proclaimed bard Magic user was dangling from the thick branches of a sturdy tree, swinging in the wind.