The flames licked at their combat suits, revealing metallic-tinted bones beneath the charred fibers.
The two warriors at the forefront had their right arms severed at the shoulders. No blood gushed from the wounds, only a viscous black liquid slowly oozed out.
They seemed to feel no pain, using their remaining left hand to withdraw syringes from their combat packs, fiercely jabbing them into their shoulders.
In an instant, the severed stumps writhed, uneven black fleshy tendrils crazily surged forth, fusing in mere moments into a rotten, charred black arm.
The other seven were slightly better off, but their facial skin was extensively carbonized, revealing the gray-blue muscle tissue beneath.
"Fan-shaped defense."
Zuo Bai's voice came through the thick smoke, calm enough to belie the explosion they had just survived.
The warriors immediately dispersed, forming triangular formations of three.
