Two hours later.
Under the dark sky, at the Gray Parrot Enhanced Regiment's defensive line.
A wave of attacks by the army of strange creatures had just ended—after meeting the Gray Parrot Enhanced Regiment's stubborn resistance, they had suffered heavy losses and were now retreating like a receding tide.
The Gray Parrot Enhanced Regiment had suffered considerable losses as well, with numerous soldiers killed and wounded. Even the uninjured soldiers slumped to the ground as if drained, gasping for breath. Their strength had been so thoroughly exhausted that they did not even want to move a finger. Only a very small number of soldiers forced themselves to stay upright through sheer willpower, attempting to repair the defensive line damaged in battle.
The air was filled with the stench of rot, scorch marks, and blood. Corpses and wounded men lay everywhere, while screams rose and fell without end.
At this moment, vehicle crew members such as Bob, Philip, and Frank ran out from the camp and hurried to the defensive line. Two hours of battle had already made them skilled at handling the situation. They knew what they needed to do.
Some helped the soldiers repair the defensive line, some carried boxed Energy Cubes and shells to where they were needed, and some delivered Emergency Military Rations to soldiers whose strength had been depleted. The rest carried the wounded onto stretchers and sent them to the Temporary Treatment Center in the camp. Though those with injuries too severe often still had a high chance of dying after reaching it, at least there was a sliver of hope.
Frank lowered his head, set a stretcher on the ground beside him, and moved to drag over an unconscious wounded soldier with a broken leg.
Philip had been helping repair a collapsed trench. Seeing