"No matter what tricks you have, I can kill you again!"
Taking two steps at once, Okam, who was already a little crazy, jumped over the cover in front of him to resist the fire, injected power into the power sword that was swinging in his palm, and quickly charged forward.
Suddenly, a hideous face broke out from the darkness and rushed towards Okam.
For a moment, Occam mistakenly regarded the ugly face of half man and half bull for some kind of weird style of helmet.
"Volbor!"
The company commander of the Word Bear and the Gang Varga Touch appeared in front of him again, and Okam was almost stunned.
Then he subconsciously pulled the pistol into his palm. The traitor did not dodge or dodge, and let the blue lightning turn half of his face into ashes. The charge was unshakable. The enchanted warrior laughed wildly and forced Okam to retreat several steps.
This half-demon was tall and strong, even making Okam look thin and thin, covered with sharp blasphemy armor, like a corrupt and sharp human-shaped heavy tank.
The pure body shape and weight pressing effect are irrefutable, which successfully slowed down Occam's forward rushing pace.
The raid commander responded calmly, clenched the sword with his backhand and twisted his waist to explore, slashing the traitor warrior's neck one by one, and threw his head into the dull haze.
Okam, bathed in blood, cheered up his spirits, aimed his sword blade at another traitor holding a giant sword and rushing towards him.
He also knew that guy, he was the first acolyte Phil, and his weapon in his hand was the Demon Blade "Gohastrag.
The speaker laughed wildly, and held up the sword in his palm that looked like a charming dragon, intending to smash the opponent's head into meat paste.
Okam lifted his sword and dissolved the fierce slash. He raised his foot and kicked the traitor's heart, causing the opponent to retreat repeatedly, fell backwards, and was beheaded by a sword before he could get up.
At this time, the battle between the ruins was very chaotic, and the armor of both sides was almost the same, making it difficult to tell each other.
But suddenly, a voice rang in Okam's mind, it was Philo Ronalna.
"Attack the commander, we were fooled by the alien."
Then, a trace of cold logic flowed into Okam's turbid mind, trying to penetrate the gloomy noise and mania of all directions.
Yes, why would the dead attack him again?
He tried to break free from the real battle scenes around him and tried to clarify its true face: that was a word, a very obvious answer.
Hallucination.
"Disillusion?"
Okam whispered and took a staggering step, traveling around the unextinguished embers and dust - all this was indeed an illusion. He and his brothers did not really fight against the enemy on the battlefield. The second truth that followed collided into his mind. Alpha was an expert who used fraud and chaos to make them confused. It was not a simple word "illusion" that could perfunctory existence.
The hallucinations in front of me are more like some kind of spiritual invasion - the kind of trick used by the spiritual race.
However, if it is a spiritual energy, the think tank cannot be unaware of it, then there is only one possibility - some kind of triggered trap.
What trap can escape their eyes?
Okam suddenly noticed something, and neither side of the war seemed to use grenades—
Grenade.
He blinked, then pulled off a grenade and threw it at the ruins fifty meters away.
After a bang, all the Alpha warriors shouted in horror.
The enemy disappeared, and the entire ruins were covered with horizontal monofilament lines, like a giant net woven by some kind of large insect, which shone with glimmer in the light of the black sun.
Then, with a hissing sound of air being discharged, they shrank back.
Okam clenched his teeth in depression.
"I'm careless. I didn't notice these weird things on the ground before."
Then he quickly climbed onto the towering ruins beside him, opened his clear and turbid eyes, and looked around the battlefield around him again - the previous Space Marine disappeared, and the light and agile aliens replaced their positions, jumping through the anxious battlefield.
They were dressed in colorful feathered clothes with absurd colors, like a group of weird clowns wearing smirk masks, performing a big show with a sweet laugh of ups and downs, chanting improvised poems with gold embroidery.
"Ah, the protagonist comes in."
A whisper suddenly exploded in his ears, and Okam quickly turned around.
The colorful robe unfolded around her light body. Okam felt the threat and quickly retreated. The next second, a sharp blade passed by, almost beheading him.
He raised his hand to fire, and the bomb was shot out, but the harlequin was avoided in a swaying and elegant manner.
The Unicorn, who had attacked once before, bowed deeply, his colorful windbreaker brushed across the dusty ground and continued to dance, while the other clowns applauded warmly to accompany the dance.
"A dog thing that is indescribable!"
Okam cursed him, raising his sword to block the blade of the attacker who rushed towards his throat.
But the other party's white mask, slender nose and stiff smile made him not know at all whether the creature understood what he meant. The clown surrounded him and turned at an astonishing speed.
Suddenly, a blade slashed a spark on his shoulder-pillar, and Okam slammed his opponent with his sword, but the latter calmly made a backflip.
Applause kept ringing among the clowns in the garments of mixed colors. With frustration, Occam gritted his teeth and restrained himself from chasing the creature.
The unicorn slowly circled him, and the beautiful masked smile seemed to be mocking him.
Hand over the enemy... hand over the enemy... Ingael... Ingael...
"It's so noisy!"
Facing the angry Occam, the aliens bowed mockingly to him.
At this moment, a burst of spiritual energy came and the horn spiraled and retreated.
"Assault the commander, maybe we have to leave, either retreat or move forward!"
Philo Rona said in a deep voice as she released her psychic energy to the messy harlequin:
“Fighting with them is like shooting a shadow.”
Okam knew that the other party was right, and that they would not have any results when they were entangled with each other here, so he decisively ordered:
"Alternate cover, move forward!"
Soon, the Alpha warriors moved, but the terrain inside the ruins was rugged and bumpy, and countless towering stone slabs piled up with buildings of all sizes, making it difficult for everyone to walk.
The running clown was not affected at all. His figure was like a feather in the ruins. The sharp and sharp broken ruins turned into afterimages under his continuous leaping feet. The cliff more than 100 meters deep was no problem for his agile skills.
Relying on years of experience in complex terrain operations, Okam moves freely among broken tiles and ruins. At the same time, the auxiliary sensor of the helmet locks the every move of the surrounding aliens, projecting a massive amount of intelligence information on the retina.
Even so, the spirit race still pestered their team, neither attacked fiercely nor escaped, as if they were just dragging them.
After running for hundreds of meters, Okam jumped gently, climbed over a crumbling iron wall, quickly crossed the main road, and drilled straight into a winding and narrow road. As long as they passed through this place, they could reach the small portal to the central city.
"Scatter left and right."
Okam whispered to the communicator:
"Don't let go of any aisle or dark alley, always pay attention to the air condition, and don't let the opponent's illusion take effect again."
The Alphas changed their pace of action and carefully chose a way forward in the dim wreckage. The weapons in their hands scanned the every move in the ruins, and passed through the surrounding and round and round ancient buildings lined up one after another.