A few kilometers away from where Azrael and the others were hiding, a large group of people was carefully advancing toward the area shrouded in the raging sandstorm.
There were around fifty individuals in total, all clad in armor bearing the insignia of the security forces of the Flato Solar System.
Most of them were class-rank warriors, but among their ranks were also ten epic-level warriors.
Glen, the level 31 epic-level warrior who had previously welcomed Azrael and his group when they first arrived on Planet Fras was also among them.
Leading the party was a somewhat elderly man with light gray hair and the unmistakable aura of a peak epic-level warrior around him.
"Colonel Morrison, what should we do with this man?" One of the epic-level warriors asked the old man, his eyes settling on the bloodied figure of a man being dragged along by a class-level warrior at the rear.
