For Deathstroke, spatial awareness had always been one of his strengths. Even in a dark, damp burrow where direction meant nothing, he could roughly calculate how far they had traveled through the maze and what location lay on the surface above them.
The Sister knew it too. Above their heads was either a plaza or a street, because blood had soaked through the soil and was now dripping down onto them.
Aside from the Necrons, who had no blood, bodily fluids from all manner of creatures had mixed together, producing a bizarre color.
"Move faster. The soil above us is starting to loosen."
Su Ming reminded the Sister, then quickened his pace. From their current position to the Relay Station, there were probably still more than sixty kilometers to go.
If they traveled this distance on the surface, dragging along the Sister—the so-called "native guide"—it would probably take days and nights of fighting before they could break through the encirclement.
The main problem was that there were too many enemies, charging at them without regard for their lives. Their advance would inevitably be slowed.
Su Ming had too many abilities he could not let the Sister see, including Strangle and flight. Otherwise, she would take him for a daemon again, and that would affect whether this humanoid Database could still be of use to him.
But traveling underground was much more convenient. Even if they encountered enemies down here, they would only be green-skinned Orcs. In such cramped spaces, they could simply charge through them.
Efferal nodded. She had not put on her helmet, merely hanging it from her waist. Mud mixed with blood fell onto her white hair, yet she seemed completely unaware of it.
"What model is your armor? It looks both light and powerful."
She had not