Immediately following, a spray of blood, like a bizarre, demonic flower, blossomed on Turtle Blade's chest.
Turtle Blade's eyeballs gradually turned grayish-white.
The vitality left his body bit by bit with the spurting of the blood.
Liu Qingqing, standing aside, still hadn't recovered from the shock.
The opponent was a Mage, how could they have used close-quarters combat techniques only Martial Artists would employ?
Even "Yan," at the moment of success, there was disbelief in her eyes.
Although before the match, "Yan" had repeatedly planned out the strategy for tonight's contest.
That was to kill Turtle Blade right at the start of the battle.
In the spectator stand, the audience who had been screaming non-stop also suddenly fell silent, as if an invisible hand had gripped their throats.
The only one who remained completely calm on the field was "Yan."
She had to stay calm because even the slightest shock on the arena could mean death.
