More and more gods and people rushed over. The beast-fighting arena was packed to the brim, with no room for anyone else, yet countless people still tried to squeeze inside. They wanted to see the battle and find out just who this Lord Emperor God was.
Only after quite a while did the crowd's excited fervor slowly subside, though pair after pair of eyes remained burning hot as they watched Zhao Fu at the center of the arena.
The God of Strength had already been carried away to have his injuries treated.
Zhao Fu turned again and looked toward the gods in the stands. His gaze held a faint contempt, and his voice was even more domineering. "Who else?"
"This guy is far too arrogant!"
A trace of anger appeared on the faces of the many gods. Yet knowing they were no match for Zhao Fu, they could only turn their eyes toward a stern-faced young man dressed in purple.
He was the previous tournament's Battle God, ranked first in strength. Now, only he could stop that arrogant fellow. The others had no hope at all—someone ranked third had been instantly defeated in a single move, so how could they possibly beat him?
Facing everyone's gazes, the stern young man's expression did not change. He flew down from the stands and landed on the ground, his icy eyes fixed on Zhao Fu.
The entire arena fell silent. Countless people watched the field with eager anticipation. Even the previous Battle God had personally stepped forward this time, making them all even more excited and stirred up.
What kind of battle would erupt between them?
Zhao Fu's expression grew slightly more serious, because he too could sense that this stern young man was far from ordinary—much stronger than the other gods.
Clang,