More than a hundred gun barrels aimed from afar at the radar-marked area.
Amid flashes of fire, tracer rounds tore through the gray-green mist, screaming toward the swarm of mutants flapping their wings as they flew in.
Flying close to the ground, Gern suddenly felt a chill on his neck, followed by a sharp sense of danger erupting in his mind.
He jerked his head up. Before he could process what was happening, dazzling flashes of fire exploded across the sky.
"Boom—!"
The dozen or so bat-winged humanoids closest to him were the first to be caught in it, ripped to shreds on the spot by tracers as thick as pythons.
Those flying nearby did not escape either.
The 155mm fragmentation shells fitted with proximity fuses exploded one after another. Their flying fragments were like Death's scythes, sweeping wantonly through the bursting firelight and dense walls of smoke, harvesting one bloody life after another.
For a moment, blood rained from the sky, with chunks of flesh and severed limbs dancing and falling everywhere.
"Scatter!!"
Remembering the Holy Son's warning, Gern roared at the top of his lungs. He beat his wings, twisted aside from the screaming tracers, and charged toward the direction the shells had come from.
Shrill whistles streaked past him and threw up rolling clouds of dust from the ground close by, yet did not harm him in the slightest.
The biomass armor bestowed upon him by the Torch Church possessed not only extraordinarily tough keratin armor, but also powerful self-repair capabilities.
Ordinary explosive fragments and 7mm rifle bullets could barely hurt him. Even if he was wounded, he could rapidly repair damaged tissue by consuming biomass!
As he gradually became familiar with the power of this biomass armor, Gern grew bolder while weaving through the hail of