Doomsday Roulette

Unlike the people from the Su Clan Alliance, the members of the Alliance of Small Races did not immediately launch an attack but instead positioned themselves in front of the Tarros Red Dwarfs.

"Get out of the way!"

A burly young man with horrifying scars on his face stepped out from the Dwarf Camp. Even as he roared at the Alliance of Small Races and waved his hands, everyone could see that he was missing a finger.

It was hard to imagine what he had been through.

The Tarros Red Dwarfs had a mechanical legion in Divine Artisan City, which contained many lives from other races. However, most of these lives were 'lost souls and wild ghosts,' remnants of declining races, some fugitives on the run, some extreme deviants, as well as their descendants.

These people had essentially been cut off from their original clans, which had almost all been exterminated; even if some still existed, they had already distanced themselves from their kin.

But now, the people facing the Alliance of Small Races were different. These individuals had recently pledged allegiance to the Tarros Red Dwarfs along with their entire families.

This was the first time since the expansion of the Alliance of Small Races, which started with only the members from Dark Strip City, that they stood before the All Races of the Universe. Similarly, these races that had secretly or openly aligned with the Tarros Red Dwarfs were also making their public debut.

This did not involve anything like a declaration of loyalty, but it was still the first time both sides were showcasing themselves.

Both parties valued this moment greatly.

"Leave, and we won't have to fight."

The response from the Alliance of Small Races came from a woman in leather armor, who held a small bow in her hand. She maintained her distance and coldly spoke to her roaring opponent.

In just the span of two sentences, a team of over twenty people in the center had arrived. They slightly paused, and their overall forward momentum slowed down, clearly affected by the interception teams that appeared on both sides.

One side had already engaged in battle, while on this side, the situation was also on the brink of eruption.

However, their speed soon picked up again as they directly crossed the two battlefields and charged into the patch of grass beyond.

They did not care who the intercepting individuals were; as long as no one stopped them, they were fine. If they could kill the Cloud Summit Quartet, they would have no further demands. Ensuring they wouldn't be eliminated in the last position during the remaining time guaranteed them many rewards that others could hardly imagine!

"Get out of my way!"

Seeing the team in the middle leaving, the scarred man grew even angrier.

In their pursuit of killing the Cloud Summit Quartet, the three small teams shared a common goal, but the division over who would actually carry out the kill was significant.

This involved not just their strategic objectives; primarily, the four individuals held many points and possessed excellent equipment. Acquiring them would mean a substantial income.

However, if someone else killed the Cloud Summit Quartet, they would still receive a reward, but it would be considerably less; the difference was immense.

This scarred man had ambitions; he wanted to leave a good impression on his new master, and now that someone was obstructing him, he was genuinely enraged.

Seeing that the opposing group still wouldn't yield, he let out a series of furious roars, raised his weapon, and charged forward, showing no fear of the numerical advantage of the other side.

Both sides immediately fell into chaos.

After the battle began, it did not turn into a one-sided affair.

The races that had allied with the Tarros Red Dwarfs had also received some benefits, including equipment, so they were not significantly inferior to the Alliance of Small Races, which had received support from Ye Zhongming.

Their advantage lay in individual strength; the average fuleira of these races' newcomers had surpassed a thousand, with a few even hanging around the two-thousand mark, just like the scarred guy.