When the stakes were high enough and there were enough participants, there would always be people willing to take desperate risks.
Before Xie Mengwu's voice had even faded, a sharp cold gleam shot out from a private room somewhere, streaking toward the high platform like a phantom.
Wherever it passed, stark black scars appeared in space itself.
The nearest red-and-black armored figure raised its head, and a red glint seemed to flash through the eye slits of its visor.
It drew a Silver-white Metal Saber over two meters long from a spatial rift and slashed down at the cold gleam.
The blade turned blurry, like scenery seen through frosted glass.
A series of crisp clangs rang out, and metal fragments the size of rice grains fell from midair to the ground.
A closer look would reveal that those metal fragments were exactly the same size, without the slightest discrepancy.
At the same time, dense black mist surged forth, seemingly mixed with piercing wails that sent chills down one's spine.
A cold-faced man in black leaped from his room, Heavy Sword in hand. Every strike tore open space with streaks of sword light.
An ordinary-looking middle-aged man let out ear-splitting laughter, while a sea of blood seemed to rise and fall behind him...
As though they had discussed it beforehand, several figures launched their attacks almost simultaneously the moment the cold gleam appeared.
The terrifying spiritual power of Venerables surged forth like a vast, raging ocean. Under that dreadful pressure, the lower-level cultivators instantly went pale, finding even breathing incredibly difficult.
The sudden upheaval had unfolded in no more than the blink of an eye.
Before countless people could figure out what Xie Mengwu's words meant, attacks of ultimate splendor carrying the crisis of death had already descended.
"I knew there'd