900 light-years.
"Run quickly! We can only abandon our homes."
"Yes, in the 1000 light-year region, the teleporting crazies are hunting all our perfect-level Creators."
"We must flee to the 900 light-year area, where they can't reach us."
An avalanche of refugees caused their Creators to expel a backup 900 light-year Creator to the surface.
Of course, among them were some lucky ones who encountered that perfect lantern fish preparing to leap over the dragon gate during the ascent.
"What is that? Our Creator went mad and couldn't resist rushing over!"
The war broke out again.
This left the Witchcraft Celestial Maiden in worry, "What on earth happened in the 1000 light-year deep sea? Why are there so many refugees?"
"Damn it, so many wars have drained the reserve Divine Power left by God excessively..."
800 light-years.
"Where do you come from?"
