In that faint light, endless dust gathered together, forming a holy vessel. First ca bone and flesh, then skin enveloped them, corresponding to the continuously collapsing Lancer Cavalry, revealing cables and core frawork as its tal shell shattered, constantly being dismantled and disintegrated.
Percival saw it, the white skeleton covered with flesh, filling the abhorrent skull. In the mingling of flesh, a pair of soulless eyes opened from the pitch-black Thunder Group, gazing at her.
That face began to grow fierce, finally transforming into an absolute nightmare.
Intense erosion descended closely on Percival's consciousness. At this critical mont, the sharp Giant Blade cleaved down, the Sword Dancer severed the Lancer Cavalry's body, freeing it from the Thunder Group's devouring.
Shattered steel plumted from the height, still ablaze with fuel tanks. As it hit the bottom, it ignited a blaze, scattering the thick fog.
"Still alive, Percival?"
After a strike, the Sword Dancer quickly retreated. Using the scars left by the Angels, the smooth well walls beca pitted and uneven, giving the Sword Dancer so leverage to move.
"Still alive... but probably not much use."
Percival's groans echoed, only to see Percival hanging on the Sword Dancer's blood-stained chest armor. At the crucial mont, the Sword Dancer slashed down along the wound caused by the Thunder Group, separating the two and pulling Percival out.
This rough action caused many wounds for Percival. Her body bore many cuts left by steel, as if slashed by blades, and she was tangled with so broken infusion tubes and electrodes. But this wasn't the worst; the worst was Percival's side abdon.
As the Thunder Group appeared, it swallowed not only steel but the flesh beneath it. Maybe the swift thrust of the fuel tanks should be thanked. Had Percival been just a mont slower, her torso might have already been completely devoured by the Thunder Group, and now what Bola managed to rescue was only half a body.
The flesh and fabric at her side abdon were completely gone, the wound was vast, and Percival endured the pain, gripping the Sword Dancer's chest armor firmly with one hand and covering her wound with the other to prevent any internal organs from spilling out.
"Take good care of her."
The Sword Dancer landed on a nearby platform, setting Percival down.
"Ah, do I count as really unlucky? Previous missions were fine, but lately every ti I go out, I seem to lose half my life."
The dical staff surrounded Percival, and as if devoid of fear of death, she looked up and slowly said.
"Probably..."
Bola said, shaking his head. The Sword Dancer looked down below. With the downfall of the Lancer Cavalry, the collapse of the defensive line was irreversible... In fact, reversal had never been possible, and all efforts were rely delaying the failure.
"Terrible... What exactly are we fighting against..."
Awakening from the fury of battle, Bola felt a chill down his spine.
The undying Evil Ghosts returned once more; they never truly died, only these laughable mortals did.
"Thirteen..."
At this mont, Lorenzo spoke softly, standing on the edge of the high platform as if about to fall at the next mont.
Throughout, no matter how many were killed and how many returned, the Angels always maintained at thirteen, aning the current descending wills were only these thirteen. This reminded Lorenzo of many things, pondering back to the distant past. Back then in the dry well, not only were there more than thirteen Angels fighting along with Shangdafeng the Demon Hunter, but at Maruri Port as well, their numbers far exceeded this, yet now only these appeared here.
Why only these? Is it because our information threshold is insufficient, lacking higher priority?
Or could it be... sothing else has crossed the "fence," its priority far surpassing ours, causing more Angels to clear them?
If so, then what are those things?
Wolves...
Lorenzo pondered, leaping down.
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