At this critical moment, on the deck, the old man from the Military Department was ultimately unwilling. His fists clenched tightly, his nails piercing into his flesh, golden blood dripping onto the deck.
He growled as he spoke.
"Martial Saint, sir..."
"Hmm?"
The golden figure in the sky only glanced over indifferently, instantly causing the old man from the Military Department to tremble all over. His open mouth closed under the terrifying pressure, his face flushed as he lowered his head, unable to make a sound.
Watching the seventeen figures approaching the martial arena, the old man from the Military Department on the battleship, along with the generals from various war zones, trembled all over. They gritted their teeth, producing a piercing grinding sound, their eyes almost spitting fire, but there was nothing they could do.
In their hearts, there was only endless despair and suffocation.
