Mountains of corpses, vultures flying high.

"Clean up the battlefield!" Mukael did not use telepathic communication, but shouted loudly, echoing in the gloomy sky around him, and he didn't think about it, naturally it would not be the Hydra, but the wails of the surviving prisoners of war.

The scarlet tassel was lifted by the fishy wind and hung down behind his shoulders, and Hydra, whose scarred face was so dense that he almost concealed all the features that a human should have, stood upside down with a halberd in his right hand, and stood on the front armor of the destroyed chariot, and the surging waves of earth ploughed out the ravines, piling up the stumps and dead scattered everywhere. Occasionally, I can hear a little mourning.

So he jumped out of the chariot, and the full armor plate was only a charred black hole the size of a baby's fist, but this alone was enough to destroy the steel behemoth, which weighed dozens of tons. For pure-bloods Hydra, fighting is the best way to prove that they were born the same. No, they don't have behind them.

Carrying a halberd, this goat-headed demon stepped on the chest of the wounded soldier who was struggling in the grave, and watched with interest the desperate and pleading eyes of the dying man.

"Our good compatriots also make fun of these allies of the Five Lakes." A reflection came out of thin air in the twilight sunset, revealing a slick head in a daze. "Mukair, you're going to waste your time peeling?"

"It's an order from an adult, and I'll just obey it." As soon as Mukelf spoke, his scars swelled, and it was indeed like his natural ability—the black earth. He took a bite of a bright red apple, and looked around at the Combine soldiers gathered in one place. The unannounced surprise attack of the Hydra was almost unstoppable, and within a quarter of an hour, the soldiers who were cooking were completely crushed and annihilated with only one vehicle in a hurry, and the apple was a freshly delivered supply.

"Your Excellency's order is to dispose of this group of garbage and look for traces of our Purple Bloods." The bald head gradually revealed the part below the neck, and the blurred phantom color was peeling out, obviously this Hydra was wearing optical camouflage, if you are familiar with the Hydra organization, you can judge that this person is most likely an assault ability, otherwise it will not

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Additional Concealment Items.

Flies are supposed to be the most fearless creatures in the wasteland, Mukael waved his hand to drive the flies to the pulp, gnawed heavily, and pointed to the devastated buildings that had been hit by artillery fire in the distance, and said, "Hmm...... That building...... The flavor is the strongest. ”

"Then you enjoy it slowly, the rats of the United faction are not far away, don't choke your throat." The bald head disappeared again, and Mukail casually threw the gnawed kernel, and in an instant the black flies gave up the same blood stains, and instantly submerged the only bright core, and the vultures immediately swooped down, competing for fresh flesh and blood.

"Dathus! You're responsible for skinning you alive! Puzzle torch diagram! Mukael still shouted, empty and there would be no response. It was Hydra's instinct to hide, but after the order, a blood-drenched pattern was engraved on the erected cross, and a moment later, a creepy sign was erected. Those who receive the message are naturally accustomed to it, and those who are enemies are not afraid?

"Get it done before I come out! Fight a little better......" Mukael leaned over to pick up the next apple from the supply box, and almost choked on one bite. "Anyway...... We are all civilized people, and we have to be pretty......"

As soon as he finished speaking, Mukael disappeared into the sunset, and the faint indifference reflected the almost transparent figure, which was naturally far worse than Adolfina's shapeshift, but it was mostly regarded as an illusion under the glimpse in the scout's eyes.

Hitomi turned milky white, and the world changed hue, and Hydra crossed the open area before the fortifications lightly, and the open area of nearly a thousand meters was still littered with a large number of destroyed light vehicles. Some of them are awkwardly neat: several Humvees with heavy steel plates have been moved into "U" shapes, and then deep ploughs are carried forward as if something was pushing against them. Mukael naturally thinks of the most famous and tragic Philadelphia tug-of-war in the wasteland. The superior Imperial legions stormed the ruins of Philadelphia, which were held by the Southern militia, for three years, and the losses of vehicles were so great that they blocked the offensive route, and the Empire had to send bulldozer tanks to shovel scrap metal forward, encroaching on the line of defense several meters a day. Cruel to the point that even the Imperial General, who had always used soldiers as cannon fodder, lamented: "The land we have laid is not enough to bury the dead." ”

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Several craters with a diameter of two or three meters and a depth of one meter faintly tell the extent of the intensity of the offensive and defensive battle that ended not long ago. Mukael did not recall that the ruins of Zhika had such powerful explosives stored by an expedition, and that no large-caliber artillery had been found in the previous battle. When the only possibility jumped out, even he couldn't help but shudder slightly.

This is the sponging core of the exoskeleton that self-destructs.

Approaching the fortification, Mukael did not enter directly through the sparsely blown foyer, but climbed all the way along the recess of the outer wall, and a few minutes later stood next to the remaining rocket projectile on the roof, an iron pier converted into a multi-barrel minelayer filled with filthy angry words, and it is not difficult to imagine how complicated it must be to stand and take a group photo after the Combine has worked so hard to capture the fortification. And that faint and unique smell is almost gone. Mukael twisted a few shells soaked in the smell of urine, and he immediately recognized them as special sniper bullets, the butts of which had obvious traces of hand-reloading.

The night breeze swept by, and the Hydra was silent, he had only heard that the mate chosen by Lord Morfin himself had been a pre-war Ranger who had experienced a real all-out war. In the barrage of infantry chariots roaring to rip off their scalps, there must be people lying here, unable to tremble, holding anti-materiel rifles, to stop the enemy's surging armored offensive. They had no backup, and from the beginning to the end, Master Morfin didn't send a single message.

Descending the spiral staircase of the bell tower, there were sprays of dried blood everywhere, several daggers carved into the walls even hung with sawn stumps, and a box of half-used bullets remained in the fire nest that was dug out, and it must have been the shooter who gave up his shooting position in the middle of the shot, pulled out his pistol and killed a few sentinels who came in and then melee kill.

The former tables and chairs in the auditorium were either reduced to powder or nailed to make wooden planks, and Mukael looked at the small forest of crosses in the corner, apparently the graves of fallen soldiers. Mukael leaned down and easily recognized one of the shallow layers of soil. It seems that the Combine did not take long to capture the fortifications, otherwise this small cemetery would not have been preserved.

Digging up the grave and leaving the bones aside, soon, a secluded hole appeared in front of him, and Mukail was dumbfounded, expecting that this purple-blooded man he had never met was actually cold-blooded to the end, and when he left, he also made the bones of his companions a final cover.

(End of chapter)

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