Nikolas was on his knees, propped up by the spear. His armor was cut, blood oozed from it, yet he still had a crazed grin on his face. He seemed to have fun despite being beaten.
The old man, Song Wei, was nowhere to be seen as twelve people in white uniforms surrounded Nikolas. It was an identical uniform with a sword facing upward on the back of their uniform. The difference was the number of the sword.
Six of them had one sword, three of them had two swords, and the last one had three swords. The number of the sword might indicate their status, or maybe there was no meaning at all.
The situation piqued Tang Shaoyang's interest. Nikolas was stronger than the True God Realm, but it seemed ten of them were still too much for a high-rank Archaic Spirit.
"Surrender, or we will kill you!" The one with three swords on his back spoke, pointing his sword at the falling Nikolas.
