A High Platform Forged from Thousands of Mechas

The Fistmaster captain clearly saw this scene.

With the thunderous boom of the bomb's explosion, his entire body jolted violently.

It was as if his soul had been shattered by a blow. He froze on the spot, unable to swallow or exhale the breath lodged in his throat, nearly suffocating!

Even when a monster's claws reached for him, he did not react.

Luckily, his teammates beside him arrived in time and blasted the monster flying.

Meanwhile, the explosion not far away sent more than ten monsters within a radius of seven or eight meters soaring into the sky—or rather, their remains soaring into the sky.

That naturally included the skinny young man himself.

"Old Xiao! Old Xiao!! Don't space out!!"

"Old Xiao!"

His teammates' voices sounded so low and muffled, as though he were listening to them from inside a box.

Drip!

A raindrop landed on Old Xiao's face, making him shudder.

Drip, drip! Then came one raindrop after another.

No, it was blood.

Then came chunks of flesh!

In the blink of an eye, everyone nearby—humans and monsters alike—was drenched from head to toe in blood.

Old Xiao's eyes turned crimson as tears streamed down his face. Looking like a vicious ghost crawling out of hell, he began an endless slaughter!

Similar things were happening every moment across the battlefield.

The monsters were even more endless, as though they could never be killed.

Ten minutes, twenty minutes, forty minutes.

Forty minutes of extremely intense fighting had already pushed the war to its boiling point.

Exhaustion, injuries, despair, and the agony of losing comrades.

Madness swept through everyone!

Human and monster corpses covered the ground, and many people were soaked through.

Some of it was sweat, but most of it was blood.

Crying and roaring became the battlefield's main refrain.