They were very tall; each ancient warrior stood about three meters, clad in ancient armor, rusted and with its colors long faded. At a glance, they exuded a sense of the passage of time.
Upon closer examination, they exhibited no signs of life, yet a bizarre aura lingered on their surfaces, putting everyone on alert.
Chen Pingping thought of the predecessor he had seen the night before, who had been ordered to campaign in the Wasteland. Could it be that this group of warriors was the same?
He suddenly became solemn. He always felt as though he was opening a door that had never appeared before, with many secrets hidden behind it, tantalizingly within reach. But he didn't want to open it. Stories of the past had nothing to do with him; he did not wish to get involved.
"Shall we leave this place?" Jin Qiongyu asked, feeling uneasy.
"No," Chen Pingping shook his head. "These ancient warriors have perished; there's no need to fear them."
