Battle for the Ring

Whoosh whoosh!

Seven or eight figures hurriedly and quickly ran to the front of the huge pit.

The deep pit resembled a gaping maw of the earth, exuding a chilling aura.

The people inside were in a truly pitiful state.

Without saying a word, these people quickly reached out and pulled Dadlov out of the pit.

At this moment, Dadlov's eyes were closed, and he had fallen into a deep coma. He was like a lump of mud, limp and weak, as if all the bones in his body had been destroyed by this blow.

The men looked at Dadlov's miserable state, and their eyes filled with fear.

They clearly remembered that just a moment ago, Captain Dadlov was standing there majestically, a powerful figure with the strength of a beginner-level Martial King!

Among the many top competitors from all participating countries, the team captain's strength ranks among the top.

But who would have thought that such a strong person would be kicked away with a single kick, and that the power of that kick left the captain completely powerless to fight back, and he immediately turned into the half-dead state before us.

They couldn't help but wonder, just how incredibly strong must someone be to be able to beat their captain like that?

At first, they had a fleeting thought of avenging their captain, after all, they were comrades who fought side by side.

But now, that last thought, like a candle flickering in the wind, was instantly extinguished by the cruel reality.

Revenge?

This is a huge joke. If they were to actually challenge the person on the stage, they would be courting death and might even lose their own lives.

Team members from other countries also witnessed this amazing scene, including those who originally wanted to follow Dadlov's example and challenge the champion.

At this moment, none of them dared to make the slightest rash move. Each of them silently weighed their own strength and the pros and cons before rushing towards the other arenas, as if there were some terrifying floods or ferocious beasts there.

However, a few people who were confident in their martial prowess were unwilling to give up so easily.

They exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with both greed for the strong and a hint of fear of the unknown. In the end, greed prevailed.

The next moment, four or five people reached a tacit understanding and rushed onto the stage like arrows released from a bow.

Their goal was clear: to eliminate Hua Qiang first, and then compete among themselves for the title of champion.

In their view, as long as Hua Qiang is dealt with, the title of champion will be a piece of cake.

Hua Qiang stood on the platform, watching the group rush up, and grinned, his smile full of disdain.

For him, whether it's one person, four or five people coming up to challenge him, or even a hundred people attacking him at the same time, the result is the same.

He didn't even bother to move a step; he simply raised his hand slowly, then casually slapped those people across the face.

These people had just stepped onto the stage and hadn't even gotten their feet on the ground yet, let alone made any starting moves to attack Hua Qiang.

Just then, to their horror, they saw a huge hand appear before their eyes.

The wind pressure generated by the slap made it almost impossible for them to breathe.

Immediately afterwards, an overwhelming force struck, and they were blown away like fragile kites.

Pfft! Pfft!

In mid-air, they couldn't help but vomit blood, which shone brightly in the sunlight like blooming blood pools.

When they landed heavily, everyone was dazed and confused, with countless bones broken, and could only lie on the ground groaning in pain.

Hua Qiang acted as if he had done something insignificant. He clapped his hands, then put his hands behind his back, raised his head slightly, and leisurely admired the scenery in the sky.

His expression made it seem as if he hadn't done anything about what had just happened.

At this moment, in the vast arena, the other arenas were also engulfed in fierce battle.

Those who were the first to step onto the arena and become the champions undoubtedly became the focus of everyone's attention, and each of them was subjected to the Death Gaze and challenges from the others around them.

Those who were still waiting for a challenge stood orderly below the ring, their eyes burning with intense passion as they watched the two fighters fiercely battling on the stage.

They are like a pack of hungry cheetahs, waiting for their prey to make a mistake. Once someone on stage is defeated, they will not hesitate to take over and launch a fierce attack on the winner.

In their hearts, the desire to stand out and become the champion was extremely strong, but they also knew that if they wanted to stand in that eye-catching position, they had to endure thunderous attacks from all sides.

The battle on Arena Two has reached a fever pitch.

A man dressed in a black combat suit with a metallic sheen appeared, like a war god descending to earth, exuding an aura of awe and reverence.

In his strong, powerful hands, he held a giant sword steadily. The blade was broad and heavy, reflecting a chilling light in the sunlight.

His opponent was another person who was slightly thinner, but don't underestimate him. The large halberd in his hand was no ordinary weapon either, and it swung with great force.

The two engaged in fierce combat, their swords flashing and clashing, creating a series of dazzling sparks as they exchanged blows.

Every attack carried immense force, and every defense was incredibly perilous. The battle was so intense that it was breathtaking, and the two fought fiercely, locked in a close and evenly matched contest.

As the fight went on, the man wielding the greatsword frowned slightly, a hint of impatience flashing in his eyes.

He raised his greatsword high once more, and with unstoppable force, slashed at his opponent. At that very moment, he seemingly casually pressed a button on the hilt of the sword.

This seemingly ordinary action actually hides a huge secret.

When the enormous sword slashed down at its opponent with a whooshing sound, it was blocked by the opponent's desperate efforts.

Suddenly, a crack appeared on the tip of the giant sword with a "crack," and then, like lightning, a delicate and sharp dagger shot out from it.

The small sword was so fast that it was like a shooting star streaking across the night sky, piercing the opponent's body before he could react.

Instantly, blood splattered, and a look of pain appeared on the man's face. His body swayed a few times, and the large weapon in his hand fell to the ground with a "clang." He could no longer support himself, lost his fighting ability, and collapsed on the ground like a lump of mud.