The Grey Knights' work continued.
They patrolled and purged, turning over every inch of land and nearly every ruin!
As the Grey Knights worked, the Space Marines dug out more and more survivors. They ranged from an eighty-year-old man to children just a few years old, and their numbers had nearly reached four or five hundred.
But Luo Ji's expression grew worse and worse.
A thought was beginning to take shape in his mind, but he didn't dare believe it.
"No, no way... It can't be..." He seemed almost spellbound, muttering to himself, his pupils bloodshot.
"There's nothing impossible about it."
Afkar folded his arms, as if he had seen through Luo Ji's thoughts. "Are you thinking that surviving such a horrific war by sheer luck is practically a miracle?"
Luo Ji shuddered, as if struck by lightning, his limbs going numb.
He turned his head stiffly, his voice tangled with emotions even he couldn't make sense of. "Maybe... it really is a miracle?"
"Is that so?" Behind Afkar's helmet, his tactical lenses seemed to hold a trace of scorn and mockery. "When have you ever seen miracles become so cheap?"
Luo Ji was speechless.
His reason told him clearly that just half an hour ago, the fighting on this battlefield had been exceptionally intense!
The area had been blanketed with saturation bombardment from tens of thousands of artillery guns, followed by hypersonic missiles and ship cannons sweeping the ground. Forget ruins and shelters—even sturdy military bunkers would have been blasted to pieces!
Under those circumstances, was there any chance of survival?
Yes!
One in a thousand, or even one in ten thousand.
But there was no way there could have been as many as four or five hundred survivors!
Just as Afkar had said, how could miracles be so