Sylas stood on the last battlefield, a Lion Warlord of the 004 Sanctum hanging from his hand. Because of how things had worked out, the 001 Sanctum was actually one of the very first he finished wiping out. They were so confident and hadn't been targeted by anyone since the start, so they had been extremely vulnerable to a sudden assault.
By comparison, the 004 Sanctum was quite lucky because this time, they would end up ranked second. If anything, they should be thanking him.
The Lion Warlord coughed, his eyes still filled with shock. He couldn't believe it.
Sylas was littered with wounds and looked as though he was barely standing. Yet the problem was that all the injuries he had suffered were surface wounds. They were the sort of injuries that, at a certain level, wouldn't even impact combat strength.
It was almost like Sylas had allowed himself these injuries for cosmetic effect.
"You can either give in, or you can die. The choice is yours," Sylas said calmly.
