Euclid searched cautiously.
Another booming explosion rang out. Euclid piloted his Gork Gargant around the hemispherical street and happened to see his enemy with its back to him, pouring plasma lances powerful enough to utterly destroy it into the racecourse dome.
It seemed there was an enemy inside that had to be destroyed.
Only at this distance could he study it closely.
That mech was abnormally massive, nearly as wide as it was tall, and it carried a terrifying array of weapons—some Euclid recognized, while others were utterly mysterious to him.
Most Titans he had encountered moved on two legs, but this mech relied on a cumbersome set of tracks.
Many Blood Army soldiers who had not fled far were crushed beneath those tracks, their foul blood and shredded flesh splattering everywhere.
At that moment, the racecourse's melted ceiling began falling like burning scraps of paper. Euclid realized the enemy was desperate to destroy whatever was inside, and if that was the case, he definitely had to seize the chance to show it what he could do.
As his excitement rose, the Gork Gargant's shrieking whistle and frantically flashing warning lights heralded the destruction to come.
Though the Gork Gargant's footsteps were heavy, Euclid did not think his enemy had noticed his arrival.
After a series of operations, he diverted power from nonessential systems and prepared to attack.
Just then, one of the metallic weapon tendrils on that war machine suddenly swung around. Euclid was instantly seized by nausea—the thing was looking at him.
In an instant, all the weapon tendrils that had yet to stop attacking the racecourse turned toward him as well, like jellyfish floating on the sea stirred into motion by prey.
At that moment, the Gork Gargant's primary weapons—two high-powered electromagnetic cannons—finished charging.
"Fuck!!"
Euclid opened