Vico looked up at the gleaming radiance of those magnificent Mecha in the sky, and for a moment, felt that this world had slipped beyond his understanding.
The moment the motorcycle began roaring, the densely packed soldiers guarding the Inner City Gate had already heard it.
It was just that Sot moved too fast. Before those soldiers could fully react, the speeding vehicle had already cleared the iron barricades and charged into their formation.
Vico had seen scenes like this in countless legends and television dramas.
A Hero's knight, astride his warhorse, charged into the enemy ranks in a blaze of glory, feeding his blade with blood.
But those stories were mostly set in the cold-weapon era before the Great Disaster Era, or their protagonist piloted an advanced top-tier Mecha with countless military achievements.
He had imagined himself as such a Hero countless times, standing in the light and saving the world in an unprecedented battle.
But he had never imagined a scene like this—riding a motorcycle beneath the glow of Mecha and charging without hesitation into a fully armed formation defended by Electromagnetic Cannons.
Good heavens, not even the most absurdly fabricated legends would write something like this.
He had only one feeling about it.
This was insane.
This was exhilarating.
So exhilarating that just as he wanted to scream, an Electromagnetic Cannon roared past him and blasted a huge crater into the ground beside him.
He could only open his mouth wide, unable to make a sound.
His tensed muscles squeezed his chest so tightly that he nearly lost his voice completely.
Or perhaps he had screamed, only for it to be swallowed by the thunderous blasts.
He wanted to open his mouth and suggest finding somewhere to hide, or waiting for reinforcements.
But he did not even