A swarm of monstrous beasts descended from all directions, closing in with blinding speed.
From sky and earth, from every corner, they encircled the sixty or seventy people at the battlefield's center like a tight-fitting barrel.
At least a hundred were Level 12 leader-class beasts, accompanied by countless Level 11 and Level 10 minions.
Each beast constantly emitted a cold, oppressive aura born of darkness. These energies coalesced into visible, twisted columns of black smoke that billowed through the sky and spread in all directions.
Without exaggeration, a beast horde of this magnitude, if unleashed elsewhere, could easily crush a star sector countless times over.
It would be sufficient to trigger turmoil across a dozen or even dozens of star sectors. The sheer terror of this catastrophe was evident.
Though the members of this group were the most elite and formidable warriors selected from across the star region, many instantly paled at this sight.
Some even wore expressions of utter despair, their faces etched with despair.
Indeed.
Sarl and his companions were already formidable opponents. Now, with this sudden surge of powerful alien beasts completely sealing off their retreat,
Now, escape was impossible. Only death remained.
Facing this terrifying tide of beasts, Sarl and the others showed no panic. Instead, faint smiles graced their faces, further cementing their reputation as "traitors."
"Now, you have two choices..."
Sarl spread his arms wide, his entire body slowly rising into the air. Countless ferocious beasts surrounded and guarded him, their aura reaching a new peak.
"Either join us, or..."
Orange flames burned in Sarl's pupils as he scanned each person in the field, smiling as he slowly spoke: "...die!"
As if echoing his words, the surrounding beasts roared in unison. The terrifying roar churned the black smoke, forming visible shockwaves that shook the very void.
Under the crushing pressure, many faces paled, bodies trembled, and Adam's apples bobbed uncontrollably.
Finally, one person could no longer bear the pressure. Stepping forward, he stammered, "I... I'm willing to join."
All eyes instantly converged on that figure.
Surrounded by countless gazes, the Star Region martial artist—whose strength barely reached Level 11—displayed a face twisted with tension and guilt. His neck retracted as if he were about to retreat. Suddenly, an invisible force surged forth, propelling him upward into the sky.
"Excellent!"
Sarl beamed, his eyes brimming with undisguised admiration.
"I guarantee you won't regret this decision."
The latter nodded meekly. Though flashes of regret still flickered across his face, what emerged more prominently was... relief. The relief of having narrowly escaped death.
With the first one, the second and third soon followed.
"I'm in!"
"I'm joining too..."
Under the pressure of genuine life-or-death stakes, dignity and principles all took a backseat. After all, grinding one's way to Level 11 or 12 wasn't easy. Who truly wanted to die?
Granted, the label of "traitor" did carry a certain stigma. But hadn't Sarl, the most gifted among them, also become a traitor?
As for never breaking through Level 13? As if refusing to betray their comrades would guarantee that breakthrough.
Most people know their own limits well. Reaching two or three rule galaxies entering the body at Level 12 is already the absolute ceiling—otherwise, they wouldn't be gambling their luck in the Altered Space Battlefield.
"I humbly request Sir Sarl's continued guidance in the future..."
A Level 12 martial artist who had just joined Sarl's faction addressed him with utmost deference, his words dripping with flattery and obsequiousness—a sight so repulsive it made one's stomach churn.
Within moments, over ten individuals had switched allegiances, cozying up to join the traitorous stronghold led by Sarl.
This caused even some who had never been firmly committed to waver.
The round-faced fat man and the cold-eyed middle-aged man, the two guides, turned ashen.
Seeing more about to defect, the round-faced fat man blurted out, "Lord Haiji Dao is on his way here. Once he arrives, think carefully about what will happen to you..."
This warning made several Level 12 martial artists, who had already stepped one foot out, quickly pull their feet back in. The dozen or so who had chosen betrayal earlier also paled.
Indeed, they had nearly forgotten.
At the human base on the alternate battlefield, a Level 13 powerhouse had long been dispatched to rendezvous with them. Judging by the timing, they should arrive shortly.
If that Level 13 powerhouse arrived moments from now, the path to survival they had chosen might instantly become a path to death.
Abandoning one's race and forsaking one's clan was the gravest crime in the starry skies. Outside, there might still be a chance for leniency, but on a battlefield like this, they would likely be executed on the spot.
The starry skies were vast, never lacking in Level 12 powerhouses.
Moreover, from this day forward, their families and descendants would be implicated, bearing this shame for generations to come, never able to hold their heads high again.
"Heh."
Sarl, however, gave a cold laugh. His expression, neither quite a smile nor quite a frown, fixed on the two as he spoke slowly, "You two aren't still hoping that so-called Skeleton Extreme Blade will arrive in time, are you?"
The words had barely left his mouth when the expressions of the two guides changed drastically.
"What do you mean?"
The stern-faced middle-aged man barked.
Sarl replied, unhurriedly, " If he could have made it, he would have. For a Level 13 powerhouse, this distance is nothing.
The great Lord of Oblivion has long erased any memory of rescuing you from that so-called Skeleton Blade's mind.
Let me calculate...
By now, I reckon Haiji Dao, who you're pinning your hopes on, is probably sitting in his base room, sipping tea."
"What?!"
The two guides staggered imperceptibly as if struck, gritting their teeth and repeating "Impossible," "This can't be true."
Yet their eyes betrayed a grim realization—Haiji Dao had likely encountered genuine trouble.
Sarl's words shattered the last shred of hope lingering in many hearts.
Many martial artists who had been wavering moments before now abandoned their resistance and threw their support behind Sarl.
In an instant, the situation became overwhelmingly one-sided.
Even those still undecided were now consumed by frantic internal conflict and struggle. Except for Lu Sheng.
From start to finish, Lu Sheng's expression remained utterly calm, as if none of this concerned him at all.
But the two guys who could barely be called his companions weren't so composed right now.
"Damn it!"
Saya's muscles tensed, his expression twisted with agony as he desperately sought help from Lu Sheng.
"Lu Sheng, what should we do?"
For some reason, despite his companion being merely an eleventh-level cultivator, Saya stared at Lu Sheng's face, etched with utter serenity, and somehow felt he must have a solution.