In the blink of an eye, more than forty people were reduced to the last dozen or so, staggering to their feet.
Although their white robes were impervious to both water and fire and could be considered a magic weapon,
the explosive shock was not to be underestimated.
Many in white could not withstand such an impact; their internal organs directly ruptured from the blast, resulting in immediate death.
Even worse were those who stood at the epicenter of the explosion, who not only suffered damaged organs but also ended up horribly disfigured.
The man in white with a black lotus tattoo on his shoulder crawled out of the pit, spat out a mouthful of blood, and said with a cold gaze, "Who still has a communicator? Report this to headquarters as quickly as possible!"
"I don't think that's necessary. The headquarters must already be aware," a voice said from the side.
The man in white in the pit turned his head, his expression faltering, "Seven, what happened to your face?"