Fifteen white mechas raised their arms simultaneously. Mounted on each arm was a three-meter-long Soul Guidance Cannon with an astonishing caliber, their muzzles all aimed squarely at Wang Chuan in the center of the field.
The purple mecha hovered low in the air, its facial observation lens flashing red as it locked onto the scene below.
A purple mecha possessed combat power at least comparable to a Six-Ring Soul Emperor. With its heavy armor, powerful Soul Guidance weapons, and abundant energy reserves, it could often suppress Soul Masters of the same level.
In Long Huantian's eyes, the arrival of the mecha unit represented a forceful intervention by the authorities. The situation would finally be brought under control. He secretly let out a sigh of relief and even felt a faint sense of anticipation.
Yet Wang Chuan, with twenty mechas and countless cannon muzzles aimed at him, merely shook his head speechlessly. Not a trace of tension could be found on his face, as though he were looking at a group of noisy children.
He murmured softly, but those nearby could hear him clearly.
"Another bunch..."
"Who have no idea what's going on."
He could not even be bothered to explain the circumstances to these Mecha Masters. Soul Power circulated faintly within him, and seven-colored light flickered around his body as he prepared to "invite" these iron clods, who had drawn their weapons without distinguishing right from wrong, out of the arena as well.
At that tense moment, when the conflict might escalate once more...
"Stop!"
"All of you, put down your weapons!"
"Immediately!"
A stern roar filled with shock, fury, and authority rang out like thunder over the stadium.
Everyone turned toward the sound and saw several figures flying over from the direction of the podium at tremendous speed.
The