"We are here!"
The declaration was accompanied by the heavy thud of over two hundred tired Bulltors' boots hitting the ground. John had led the sprint for ten hours straight without a single moment of pause, his stamina pushed to the brink.
During the run, he frequently pulled out a core and used it to clear a pocket within the suffocating mist. To ensure he wouldn't delay for even a second, he primarily used the cores of the Wrathers to clear a wide area around.
Seeing him perform this repetitively sparked a wave of silent questioning among the Bulltors following him. To the giants, the fog was a nuisance, but their massive physiques and resistance allowed them to move through it with relative ease. They didn't feel the need to stand within a cleared spot at all.
However, no one spoke up; they simply watched with a mixture of pity and curiosity, assuming this was some strange requirement to survive the fog thanks to the human's fragile nature and small physique.
