The Primordial Sacrificial Altar.
Qi Sheng's gaze shifted between the various arena platforms.
After the twelve lucky players who had been selected entered the Death Arena, they were assigned their first round of matches.
These twelve players had an average hunting level of 29. During the first-round draw, five were unlucky enough to draw opponents whose hunting levels surpassed their own.
Without an advantage in attributes, the players were simply no match in single combat for these alien warriors who had received professional combat training.
They were killed and eliminated without any suspense.
The remaining seven players advanced to the second round. Amid the curses of the players in their livestreams, they gleefully received the Low Martial Spirit Beads bestowed by the Ancient Gods, gaining a windfall of 2,134 points of sacrificial power.
And that was not the end.
If they won the second round as well, their earnings would double.
This left the spectating players incredibly envious, all hoping they would have a chance to entertain the Ancient Gods the next time an opportunity arose.
Meanwhile, Qi Sheng, who was observing in secret, also breathed a sigh of relief.
When this round of players was sent to the Ancient God Arena, he had been considering two questions.
The first was whether anyone would notice something amiss if players were sent to the Ancient God Arena more than once in the future. Exposure itself did not matter. After all, he did not fear the so-called Ancient God Race at all. What could they do to him even if he was exposed?
What he feared was losing this avenue for milking the Ancient God Race.
Guide had explained this issue, saying there was no need to worry.
The players' appearances were unimportant to the various factions of the Monster World. Without