A Spear That Shook the Heavens

The surroundings fell silent. Everyone—including Ganggula and the Wild Bear Tribe soldiers watching Zhang Tie's performance—turned their eyes toward Grojko of the Blood Wolf Tribe at Zhang Tie's question.

Zhang Tie's meaning was clear. This game of death was not over yet!

The color had already drained from Grojko's face. Level-nine warriors were not Giant Wolves of the Ice and Snow Wilderness, available in endless supply. This time, he had brought only three level-nine warriors from his tribe. All three were pillars of the tribal army. Having lost three tribal experts here in one blow, he would not be able to settle matters merely by saying a few words when he returned to the tribe.

Beyond the blame and questioning he would face upon returning, Grojko was filled with hatred. The three men Zhang Tie had just killed were all his trusted subordinates. He had originally intended to pay the necessary price after returning and obtain three portions of the Source of Berserk from the temple for them, allowing their strength as level-nine warriors to soar another step. Yet those three men had been killed here. It was like having an arm chopped off, the pain piercing straight to his heart.

Even now, a man like Grojko still believed he had done nothing wrong. It was only natural for him to provoke and insult others. Those born beneath him ought to rank beneath him and obey him meekly. Yet whenever those people fought back, he felt that they were the ones at fault, and found it utterly unacceptable.

He stared at Zhang Tie standing in the arena, his eyes bulging wide, looking as if he wished he could strip Zhang Tie's tendons and skin him alive.

"According to the rules of the game of death, after winning this round, you