"The Buddhist sect's Buddha Son lost."
"Buddha against demon, and Buddha lost. Just where did this guy come from?"
"We lost. We lost again, and utterly at that. We're screwed."
"We're done for..."
"How did we lose again?"
"Why did we lose again? Why again? I won't accept it. I really won't!"
"Fuck, that damned Chaos Ancient Clan! Where did they get so many powerhouses? Damn them!"
In the spectator stands, the cultivators could not help bursting into curses after witnessing Wuxin die in battle.
Where on earth had the Chaos Ancient Clan found so many powerhouses?
Where had all those powerhouses come from?
Damn them.
They had lost again. What were they supposed to do next?
With only a handful of contestants left on either side, were they really going to lose?
After all, when any of the thirty-six contestants lost, they only lost whatever they represented.
But if an entire camp lost-if the Origin Continent lost this first round, for instance-then the loss would be far more than a single great province.
Although they did not know what the higher-ups had negotiated, it certainly was not anything trivial.
After all, losing one contestant meant losing a great province. If the thirty-six contestants lost, if they lost this round, what stakes would they have to surrender?
They did not dare imagine it.
They simply did not dare.
"There's no one left."
Among the contestants, they all narrowed their eyes as they looked toward the Arena.
After all the fighting so far, their ranks had been whittled away until only a few remained.
Judging by the previous battles, they had to make sure they won every fight from here on out.
Otherwise, in the end, they could only lose.
They could only concede defeat in this round.
But could