While Ding Lingdang and Long Yangjun were fighting, brilliant matches were taking place in the other fifteen arenas.
In the second ring, thousands of mini drones were condensed into the shape of a super-large girl. Mystic rays covered her body like flowing water. In the glittering brightness, she put on a peaceful smile.
Tilting her head, she eyed her opponent curiously.
Her opponent did not have a body of flesh and blood, either. His intimidating soul data was carried by an old, rusted spiritual puppet. The civil-looking puppet seemed to have been rolling in the mud. Not only were the gears and the bearings stuffed with dust, green sprouts were also growing out of the joints. Nobody could tell whether he was a cold machine or the warm home of the grass.
"Lord Fist King…"
