On the light screen, Victor's breathing gradually grew heavy. Eighty tons of Crystal Bombs certainly sounded impressive, but no matter how he looked at it, this plan felt like walking a tightrope. However, the two trump cards Allen had thrown out—the promise of advancing to Level 2 and the "Fat Man" capable of obliterating a Second-level Wizard—made him hesitate.
"Fifteen days." Victor repeated the number in a low voice. In his ice-blue eyes, struggle and resolve waged a frantic war. "Shrinking the defense line to the volcanic cluster is equivalent to offering our heads to him on a silver platter. If he launches an early all-out assault, or if your 'Fat Man' fails to deliver, we won't have a single sliver of a buffer left."
Allen replied calmly, "If he strikes again, it will absolutely be a devastating blow. Scattering our forces will only allow him to pick us off one by one.
