Irelia's declaration of war was like a spark that ignited a powder keg across the entire planet.

After the Empire forcibly cut off the video signal, that image, that young and resolute face, and that longsword radiating golden light, spread wildly through countless secret channels, in the form of memory crystals, handwritten texts, and even epic tales passed down orally.

"Have you heard? That girl named Irelia!"

She calls herself "the light of dawn"!

"No, it's called the 'Revival Alliance' now! She's declared war on the false god!"

"Holy power! It's true holy power! The light has not abandoned us!"

In the perpetually dark "Third Mining Area," when an orc slave, his voice trembling, repeated the manifesto, the thousands of miners around him were first deathly silent, then erupted in a deafening roar. They threw down their tools and charged with their bare bodies at the overseer robots wielding particle whips.

At the "Eleventh Gene Farm," the "serfs," who were treated like livestock by the Empire and genetically modified to adapt to various harsh environments, secretly used the most primitive farm tools to slit the throats of the patrol team in the dead of night, igniting a symbol of resistance.

The uprising, like a plague, spread wildly through every corner of the empire.

But the throne in the heavens remained deathly silent.

Zhang Huanyu, the nominal highest administrative official of the empire, had been kneeling on the cold floor for over three hours. Cold sweat had long since soaked through his magnificent official robes, but he dared not move, nor even raise his head to look at the expression of the man on the throne.

The entire empire's interstellar communication network is currently being overwhelmed by a deluge of urgent military intelligence. One red alert after another, signifying "out of control" and "riot," is flashing across the map of the New Chengtian Continent.

This is the most severe crisis of rule that the empire has ever faced since its founding.

However, His Majesty the Emperor and Lin Feng seemed to be completely oblivious to all of this.

He simply replayed Irelia's video over and over again with great interest.

His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the throne, producing a rhythmic sound that sent chills down Zhang Huanyu's spine.

"Your Majesty...Your Majesty..." Zhang Huanyu finally mustered all his courage and spoke in a hoarse voice, "Please...please give the order! The 'Divine Weapon' Legion, the 'Obsidian' Fleet, the 'Extinction' Mech Pilots...as long as you give the order, we have absolute confidence that we can bring all the chaos back to death within seventy-two hours!"

Lin Feng stopped moving.

He slowly shifted his gaze from the light screen to the old man below, who was trembling like a leaf.

“Zhang Huanyu,” he began, his voice as calm as ever, revealing neither joy nor anger, “Do you think it’s more interesting to step on an ant, or to wait until all the ants in an anthill have crawled out, thinking they can move an elephant, and then crush their nest along with it?”

Patrick was stunned; he couldn't understand the meaning behind His Majesty's words at all.

Lin Feng did not wait for his reply.

He stood up and walked to the edge of the palace. Outside the huge French windows lay the deep universe, dotted with countless stars. And the blue planet, now engulfed in flames of war, lay beneath his feet like a slightly mottled glass marble.

“Five years ago, that ‘hero’ named Leo disappointed me greatly.” Lin Feng’s tone carried a hint of weariness, as if recalling an incredibly tedious drama. “His ‘light’ was too pure, too clean, and also too… fragile. Like a flower in a greenhouse, beautiful but unable to withstand any storm.”

"But this little guy is different."

He stretched out his hand and pointed to the planet. The screen switched accordingly, and in the image, Irelia was standing on the city wall of "Dawn City". Behind her were countless warriors of different races, but with equally burning eyes.

“Look,” Lin Feng’s lips curled into a cold, cruelly amused smile, “her power does not come from the ‘favor of the world’s will.’ Rather, it comes from hatred, anger, pain, despair… and from the flower called ‘hope’ that blooms in the most filthy soil.”

"This force is complex and weak, but... it is tenacious. Like the weeds in the gutter."

He turned around and looked again at Zhang Huanyu, whose face had turned deathly pale.

"Pass on my orders."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Zhang Huanyu's spirits lifted.

"All local legions stationed on the New Chengtian Continent under the Empire's control should strategically consolidate their defenses. Abandon all resource zones below 'D-level' and cities with no strategic value."

"Wh...what?!" Zhang Huanyu thought he had misheard. Wasn't this tantamount to openly showing weakness to the rebels and handing over large tracts of land?

"What?" Lin Feng's eyes narrowed slightly.

An invisible, terrifying pressure, enough to freeze one's soul, instantly enveloped the entire hall. Zhang Huanyu felt as if his heart had been gripped by a giant, icy hand, and even his breath stopped.

"Your subject... obeys!" He used all his strength to squeeze out these three words through clenched teeth.

"Very good." Lin Feng nodded in satisfaction, and the oppressive aura disappeared. "Not only do I want them to occupy those places, but I also want you to 'accidentally' leave some of our military depots and logistics bases to them through some 'mistakes'."

Zhang Huanyu's face was completely drained of color. He was utterly unable to comprehend it.

"I will give her enough time, enough space, and enough resources." Lin Feng walked back to the throne, sat down again, and said calmly, as if announcing the rules of a game whose ending was already predetermined:

“I want her to gather all the discontented, rebellious, and self-proclaimed ‘heroes’ on this planet under her banner.”

"I want her to become the most perfect container. A container that holds all the 'hope' on this planet."

His gaze seemed to pierce through time and space, landing on the girl in the distant City of Dawn.

The sinister smile on his lips grew even more intense.

"Then, I will personally descend before her. In front of all those who believe in her, I will crush this vessel, along with the ridiculous 'hope' within it, into dust."

"At that time, Zhang Huanyu, you will see a sight more beautiful than despair itself."

"That is—the final, brilliant fireworks that burst forth when hope collapses completely in an instant."

The empire's order for "strategic contraction" was being carried out at an unprecedented pace.

For Irelia and the Alliance of Renaissance she leads, victory came far too easily.

They had originally prepared for a protracted and arduous guerrilla war and war of attrition, lasting for decades. However, the course of the war completely exceeded their wildest expectations.

As the Alliance's vanguard cautiously advanced towards "Resource Zone Six," they were astonished to discover that an entire Imperial legion, originally stationed there, had vanished without a trace within a single day, leaving behind only cities that were almost entirely deserted.

When Patton led his dwarven commando team to risk a daring raid on an Imperial heavy weapons depot in Redstone Valley, they discovered that the depot's defenses were in a bizarre "maintenance" state, with the doors wide open. Inside, thousands of particle rifles, hundreds of Mammoth tanks, and mountains of energy blocks seemed like gifts prepared specifically for them.

At first, Irelia and the Alliance's high command thought this was some kind of Empire conspiracy, a trap to lure the enemy in. They proceeded with extreme caution, taking every step with utmost care.

However, one month, two months, three months passed...

The empire's army continued its defeats.

The banners of the Alliance were planted across more than a third of the New Chengtian Continent. Countless freed slaves cheered and joined their ranks. "City of Dawn" had expanded from a single city into a vast liberated zone encompassing dozens of surrounding towns.

The total population of the alliance has grown exponentially from the initial tens of thousands to millions.

The joy of victory gradually overshadowed the initial doubts.

"The false god is scared!" At a military conference of the alliance, the dwarf Patton slammed the sword of a captured Imperial officer into the map and roared excitedly, "He's just a coward who only knows how to hide in his turtle shell! When he realized that we weren't insects he could easily crush, he was so scared that he wet himself!"

His words drew a burst of laughter from most of the commanders present, who were mostly from humble backgrounds.

The long-suppressed fears of the Empire are being rapidly dispelled by a series of brilliant victories. An unprecedented sense of optimism is spreading throughout the Alliance.

They began to believe that victory might not be far off. They might actually be able to create a miracle that would overthrow the gods.

Only a few people remained calm.

“Something’s not right.” Catwoman Lina, during a small meeting attended only by core members, scanned the crowd with her amber eyes, which always flashed with vigilance. “The Empire’s retreat was too orderly. What they abandoned were all unimportant areas with extremely high management costs. And what they held onto, such as the core industrial area around ‘Chengtian Capital’ and several major spaceports, were actually more heavily guarded than before.”

"This is not like a retreat, but more like... actively shrinking the battle lines, cutting off the burdens, and concentrating the strength on one point."

Irelia nodded, a hint of worry in her deep eyes.

“I think so too. Moreover, our intelligence network has discovered that although the Empire has abandoned the ground, their fleets are becoming increasingly active in the planet's synchronous orbit. They seem to be deploying something, a larger-scale weapon system capable of covering the entire planet.”

"So what?" Patton waved his thick arm dismissively. "As long as we liberate all the people on this continent, we'll have tens of millions, even hundreds of millions, of soldiers! Then, a single spit from each of them could flood that false god's palace! Forget about orbital weapons, we'll just dig tunnels right under his throne!"

Barton's bold words, though crude, represented a fairly common mentality within the league.

As Irelia gazed at the map, at the vast land already covered in gold representing the Alliance, a surge of pride welled up within her.