Rather than fight Chen Ping's team to the death and help others gather information, they might as well give up on fighting his team altogether.
After all, even if they fought, their chances of defeating Chen Ping's team were minuscule.
And that was if they won. What if they gave it everything they had and still lost?
Almost every team involuntarily shuddered at the thought of that outcome.
They would empty out every last trump card their team had, only to get crushed by Chen Ping's team anyway.
Losing one match was a minor matter. What would prove far more fatal was revealing all their trump cards, suffering a sharp drop in competitive form, and failing to recover their Soul Power, leaving an opening for other teams to exploit.
That was exactly what had happened to the team whose captain Wu Feng had slapped into shedding little pearls of tears. Their backsides were red all over and could not recover anytime soon. They even limped as they walked, sucking in cold breaths from the pain.
On top of that, their whole team had only four Soul Skills between them, and they had shouted out three while facing Wu Feng. Almost all their trump cards had been exposed.
The outcome of their second match that morning was easy to imagine: an utterly crushing defeat.
So, for the next three matches, even Wu Feng did not have to lift a finger.
The three of them gathered together and fiddled with the playing cards Chen Ping had carved with a Soul Tool Carving Knife to pass the time when he grew tired of carving Core Formations.
Although Chen Ping's playing cards were made of wood, each card was only as thick as two or three strands of hair stacked together.
Waving a single