Harrison Clark, fully focused on continuing to lead the team forward, asked, "Can you hold it off?"
Behind Needham Brown, twelve pseudo-curvature engines simultaneously ignited, zigzagging through the air, firing a proton fission sniper rifle, striking the forehead of the eight-legged beetle in front of him, "No shit!"
Harrison Clark didn't say anything more.
Since he had entrusted the task to Needham Brown, whether he succeeded or not, he could only rely on him.
Ahead of Harrison Clark, another 600,000 Sky Eagle Warriors were clearing the way.
In full manual operation mode, these elite fighters couldn't be as flawless as Harrison Clark, their formation seemed somewhat disorganized, and their flight direction couldn't be adjusted as freely as they wanted.
However, their task was relatively simple.
Continue to close the distance, acting as meat shields to block the silken light beams for Harrison Clark and the others behind them.
