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Above the arena, the dust had yet to settle, and a murderous chill hung like an inverted curtain of iron.
Just as predicted, where the cold light burst through, another eight figures abruptly appeared!
No. 7 through No. 14 still wore those signature village-girl buns and frozen, indifferent faces. Only the eerie blue crystal light in their eye sockets moved, like two pieces of glass plucked from the depths of an icy pool, refracting an inorganic coldness.
Wang Wei's hand stopped in midair with his wine flask raised. A flicker of surprise crossed his clouded eyes, and his throat bobbed. "They really did come..."
"These lumps of iron are only on par with Soul Grandmasters at levels 25 to 28 in terms of fighting strength. But with a dead thing's utter disregard for death, coupled with those devious Mechanical Mechanisms that account for every possibility, even an ordinary Soul Elder might find their halberd broken and buried in the sand when these things fight to the death..."
His gaze swept over the two boys who had already been driven to the edge of the arena. "Your boys may have the talent to fight above their rank and outstanding sword hearts, but against a formation like this, I'm afraid... their chances look grim!"
The situation in the arena changed in the blink of an eye.
Judging by their designs, the previous two waves could be divided into four categories:
Close-range agility type: Nos. 1 and No. 2 darted about at close quarters, with Mechanical Springs, needles, and powerful crossbows concealed inside;
Melee power type: Nos. 3 and No. 4 had steel scales covering both arms, their claw tips gleaming with a cold, dark-golden light, and specialized in locking joints and seizing vital points;
Ground-crawling