Dalton Town.
Leo slowly lowered his hand, and the vision before his eyes faded away.
His expression grew a shade heavier.
"I didn't expect the Clawclash Empire to be even stronger than I imagined," he muttered softly.
Though they were still no more than ants before him, their overall strength far surpassed that of Dalton and the Sakend Plane.
This strike of his—though merely a warning—was meant to buy Sakend a bit more time to develop.
"The entire plane—especially Dalton—must now undergo a qualitative leap," he said to himself.
"Otherwise, when the Clawclash Empire's legions arrive, unless I intervene personally, the Sakend Plane will be doomed."
But that would go against his very purpose.
He hadn't founded Dalton just to raise a group of fragile flowers in a greenhouse, always hiding behind his protection.
What would be the point of that?
Just then, a familiar mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
