"Such were the times; such was fate."
"Life and death are decreed by fate. This was his destiny."
The Taiji Dao Sect's ancestor opened his eyes and glanced at the Arena.
With a sigh, he slowly closed his eyes again.
Such were the times; such was fate.
No one could be blamed for this.
Wang Xiuyuan was dead. It could only mean that his destined end had arrived.
The other powerhouses said nothing.
After all, their ancestor had already said as much. What else could they say?
Their ancestor had already spoken; anything they said would be inappropriate.
Better not to speak—just remain honest and quiet.
Time continued to pass.
Before they knew it, the time for the next battle had arrived.
At this moment, cultivators from both the Chaos Ancient Clan and the Origin Continent fell silent.
The Origin Continent was silent because another one had died, and they had lost another battle.
The Chaos Ancient Clan was silent because that monster had come out.
That monster had once committed crimes so heinous that even the ten evils could not absolve him. He should have been executed on the spot, but someone had intervened afterward.
In the end, he had been punished by being cast into the Netherworld for all eternity.
They had thought that was the end of it.
They had never expected him to come out directly this time.
They refused to accept it. They were utterly unwilling to accept it.
But unwillingness was useless.
Things had already reached this point. There was nothing they could do, no matter how unwilling they were.
So they all remained silent.
Pointless. Truly pointless.
"The next battle."
"Number Seventeen."
As the words fell, countless gazes focused on the Arena.
They too wanted to see what exactly Number Seventeen was, and