I kept running my chariot for five minutes, maintaining a steady, rhythmic pace that allowed the ground forces to keep me in their sights without quite catching up.
Finally, I saw a silhouette breaking away from the main cluster of the remaining allied army. He was running toward my direction with a disciplined crew of fifty others trailing behind him.
It was a giant Selvator, easily standing over seven feet tall. What caught my eye wasn't just his stature, but his gear. He wore a suit of pale golden-coloured armour that caught the flickers of the red star-beam with a brilliant, metallic sheen.
To possess pale gold-ranked armour at such an early stage of the apocalypse was a staggering feat. It was enough to tell me that this dude wasn't just a simple Selvator warrior; he was likely a high-ranking noble or a decorated commander of a planetary vanguard.
