The billowing sandstorm reduced visibility to around thirty meters. Within thirty meters, there was nothing but broken walls and ruins, and beyond three meters, a muddled haze of dust.
Amid this chaotic darkness, Novihan, who had lost an arm, stood up. His arm had been blown off by a micro missile, and his external armor absorbed the damage by shattering, so his main body wasn't seriously harmed.
It was just that his energy was almost depleted.
Novihan didn't know what the situation was now, he yelled, "I am...Hero! I am Hero Novihan! Come! Come!"
But all that remained in the entire city was the sound of the wind.
Stumbling along, Novihan soon found some plastic sheets to wrap around his external armor to prevent further infiltration of the sandstorm. Some Martial Artists had been neatly killed; he planned to look for more batteries.
Footsteps sounded from beside Novihan, who was searching for batteries. He rose from the debris and found that it was the Ninth Martial God.
