Earth.
Long Feng was thirsty and exhausted. He had not eaten for a whole day.
His wife and daughter beside him were also too exhausted to keep walking. They swayed from side to side, liable to collapse at any moment.
Thousands of refugees formed a long, snaking line across the wilderness, with troops escorting them at the front and rear.
Everyone was gaunt and sallow, with heavy bags beneath their eyes.
At the head of the column, Zhao Xin of the Demon-Hunting Strike Team stood up in the back of a vehicle, surveyed the people behind him, and suddenly said:
"Let's rest here. Everyone's about to drop."
A young soldier nodded and was about to run back to pass the word.
Just then, the beautiful face of the Angel Zhixin, who sat beside Zhao Xin, suddenly changed. She whipped her head toward the north.
Seven men in silver-white armor, with snow-white wings on their backs, were flying toward them at tremendous speed.
"It's the Sky Scum!!" Zhixin hastily grabbed Zhao Xin's hand.
Zhao Xin's expression changed drastically. "We can't let them get close. I'll stop them!"
"Don't go! You're no match for them!" Zhixin shouted, tightening her grip on his hand.
"Then what do we do? Just watch them fly over and slaughter the civilians?!" Zhao Xin gripped his spear tightly, staring hard at the seven rapidly approaching Sky Scum.
"I can sense that their leader is a third-generation super soldier. You're absolutely no match for him. I'm badly injured, so neither am I," Zhixin said.
Zhao Xin trembled.
Zhixin hesitated before saying, "Zhao Xin, run. Staying here will only mean throwing your life away."
"You want me to abandon the civilians and run away alone?!" Zhao Xin glared fiercely at Zhixin.
"I won't run, even if it kills me!"