Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory

"That confident?" Ethan raised an eyebrow in surprise. "If it were just me, I might consider dragging things out a bit," Seraphina said, shifting her tone. Then, with absolute confidence, she continued, "But now? Whether it’s me, Cicero, or Elyra, we’re all fully grown. Numbers mean nothing to us! Without real power, they won’t even be able to stand in front of us. Besides, with Eldorin and Bromir on our side, if five Hero-class units can’t take down a single Colossal Gold Mine, that’d be downright embarrassing!"

"I agree with Seraphina."

Cicero, who rarely voiced his opinion, nodded without hesitation. "At our level, low-tier units are completely meaningless. Whether it’s Seraphina’s Venomous Dragon Breath, my own, or Elyra’s Divine Storm, or even Eldorin’s Entangling Roots—we wipe out entire armies in a single strike. Two or three hits, and they’re all dead!"

"In other words, the only real threats here are the Tier-14 Mythic Units—the Ancient Behemoths—and maybe the Tier-13 Legendary Units, the Behemoths. Other than them? Those Cyclops and Cyclops Kings just don’t cut it."

At those words, everyone except Seraphina—Elynn, Eldorin, and even Elyra—felt a little embarrassed.

Because to them, Tier-11 Cyclops and Tier-12 Cyclops Kings were anything but "not enough."

But Cicero and Seraphina were just that strong.

Which meant they had every right to say it.

After all, power dictated authority.

That was just how it worked.