Janet's death utterly crushed the morale of the spectators on the evil organizations' side.
Especially when they could only watch helplessly as Ling Zhan tortured Janet, with no way to do anything about it.
"Damn it! That damned Jobless Freelancer!"
"If you run into the holy son or holy maiden of our Demonfall later, you'd better pray! If we don't beat the shit out of you, consider yourself the winner!"
"Torture him to death! Just seeing him makes me furious!"
These followers of the evil organizations could only vent their frustration with such vicious words.
The matches continued.
It was still a brutal slaughter on both sides.
To the outside spectators, every hair's-breadth clash made them cry out in alarm. But to the reserve squad members from various countries, it was nothing special.
They had seen far more terrifying scenes on the battlefield.
Bodies strewn across the ground were considered mild by comparison.
Had they ever seen those monsters use human corpses to build towers of skulls?
Thus, these reserve members were not particularly shocked.
Whenever a contestant from one of the national legions was slain, they merely showed a trace of pity before quickly returning to calm.
Did that mean the national legions were no different from the evil organizations, equally indifferent toward their comrades?
Of course not.
They remained so calm because they knew that one day, they themselves might very well meet the same end.
Perhaps tomorrow, or perhaps on some other day.
Those who made their living on the battlefield rarely got to see things through from beginning to end.
In the eyes of others, being chosen for the reserves meant they were geniuses among geniuses, prodigies among prodigies.
But in truth, the dangers they faced and the responsibilities they bore were far greater than those