Tender green shoots surged from the wounds in the tree wall, pushing the flames toward the center, little by little, before ruthlessly snuffing them out.
Just then, two convoys that had already been nearby managed to get vehicles.
They practically stomped their accelerators into their fuel tanks, their engines roaring as though on the verge of death.
The vehicles shook violently before finally shooting through at the last possible moment!
Then the opening began shrinking at a visible rate.
It healed without warning, yet at a suffocating speed.
The other convoys had already given it everything they had.
Their engines smoked, and their tires caught fire.
Some even burned their Life Source directly to accelerate, but the distance was a crippling disadvantage, cold and cruel.
Three breaths.
Just three breaths.
The last wisp of flame Yang Yong had left behind was completely smothered by the green shoots.
The tree wall began repairing itself even faster.
Green vines and woody fibers frantically intertwined as the opening rapidly shrank from a hundred meters to fifty, then thirty...
"No...!"
A heart-rending wail rose from the convoys still charging toward it.
Then, faced with life and death, the most primal side of human nature laid itself completely bare.
The Sequence Transcendents in those convoys stopped caring about ordinary people altogether.
Those who could fly spread their wings and rose; those who could run broke into a sprint; those who could jump launched themselves forward.
Every one of them pulled out their last-resort tricks.
In a true life-or-death crisis, all the morality, responsibility, and promises they so often spoke of were torn to shreds.
The Sequence Transcendents abandoned the ordinary people without hesitation.
The sight was like a bucket of ice water poured over those ordinary people's heads.
They froze at first, then their expressions