Here, the moment Xu Yi spoke, Brahma was frantic with worry. Over there, the spectators erupted first, their curses, cries of alarm, and reproaches ringing without end.
These people had all bet on Xu Yi to win. Though they did not know how strong he was, plenty of gamblers had still wagered on him, since even Brahma was treating him with such caution. They were looking for an unexpected dark horse—and betting on those sky-high odds.
Now, before the fight had even begun, Xu Yi had declared he would not use a magic artifact, as good as cutting off one of his own arms. Then he had boasted that he would let Brahma attack for the time it took an incense stick to burn. Wasn't that as good as asking for death?
When experts clashed, when did a battle ever last as long as an incense stick? Didn't they always decide the victor in an instant?
If Xu Yi had made such a promise under ordinary circumstances, no one would have cared. But now, with tens of thousands of spirit stones riding on him, who could help worrying?
As the gamblers cursed Xu Yi, they naturally mocked Brahma as well, saying that since Xu Yi wasn't using a magic artifact, if Brahma used one, his victory would be dishonorable—despicable and shameless.
The mockery surged into a sea of noise. After all, they were all clever people. Cursing Xu Yi at this point was useless; their only hope of winning their spirit stones back was to force Brahma to give up his magic artifact too.
Even if Brahma had cracked his head thinking, he could never have imagined he would run into a situation like this. He had done nothing at all, yet somehow he had earned the resentment of the