"Ridiculous."
He-El suddenly felt that the Guardians of the Universe were not quite right in the head.
The rules they spoke of were like wars between medieval nobles: no matter how fiercely they fought, the noble lords themselves would not die.
At most, they would surrender, pay some compensation, and then return to being noble lords.
More importantly, if someone declared surrender, no killing was allowed. Who did that restrict?
It restricted only He-El.
Because only He-El possessed the ability to swiftly kill other stellar-level powerhouses. The rest, even if they entered the battlefield fully prepared, might not truly settle a battle even after three hundred years of fighting.
So what the Guardians of the Universe proposed was merely a measure that benefited them by restraining He-El.
"Guardians of the Universe, have your brains degenerated into microorganisms? If you fear death, kneel and surrender to me now. Do not wait until you reach the battlefield to begin fearing me."
He-El spoke without the slightest courtesy.
What kind of idiot would say something as idiotic as no killing someone on the battlefield just because they surrendered?
"I agree. If you fear the battlefield, then do not enter it." A stellar-level powerhouse voiced his agreement with He-El.
Although they understood the Guardians of the Universe's intentions, every stellar-level powerhouse was an unparalleled genius, an extraordinary talent. They had no need for the Guardians of the Universe to consider such matters for them.
This was looking down on them, belittling their strength.
"Surrender? Are the Guardians of the Universe preparing an escape route for themselves?" A stellar-level powerhouse narrowed his eyes, the corners of his mouth curving like a crescent moon as he said with foxlike amusement:
"Tsk, tsk, tsk... What decrepit old men."
"Though I can sense the Guardians of the Universe's