Apocalypse Gachapon - Chapter 1805: First experience

Ye Zhongming naturally employed his Twin Poison Shadows ability.

This skill had become increasingly fluid in his hands.

The Nangmao warrior was indeed formidable—among all those Ye Zhongming had encountered, this one was the strongest by far, surpassing even Aslan by a considerable margin.

The raw power displayed earlier had earned Ye Zhongming’s reluctant admiration. Perhaps it was the innate male reverence for strength, but despite his current ties to the Star-Eye Clan, the Cloud Peak King couldn’t help but appreciate this thunderous combat style—it was exhilarating.

Moreover, the ability to launch phantom attacks from the flank demonstrated that this opponent wasn’t just about brute force; their technique was refined as well.

The clash between the phantom and Twin Poison Shadows occurred in an instant at close quarters.

While Ye Zhongming remained unfazed, the giant’s contemptuous expression masked inner surprise.

This fast?

The current iteration of Twin Poison Shadows carried lethal toxicity. Since this shadow was summoned defensively, it manifested with near-tangible solidity, barely intercepting the phantom strike.

Black mist filled the room, affecting everyone inside as the Star-Eye members retreated to a corner.

With hostilities initiated, Ye Zhongming saw no reason to hold back—this opponent clearly intended to kill. Hesitation now would be fatal.

Light flashed in his palm as his Morphing Weapon appeared, while ten long daggers materialized from his spatial storage—tools for the shadows he was about to summon.

Truth be told, the Cloud Peak King felt a thrill. Challenging stronger foes to test his limits was an addictive pursuit.

The other Nangmao warriors roared in unison. One particularly massive figure shoved through his kin—his obsidian armor, distinct from the others, marking his superior status. His gaze icy, he strode into the room without hesitation.

Against other races, he might exercise restraint, but the Star-Eye Clan? A faction on the verge of elimination—what consequences would there be for slaughtering them? This could serve as a warning to others: Do not provoke the Nangmao.

A single step brought him inside. A second pair of eyes opened on his forehead, rendering the black mist meaningless to his vision.

Locking onto Ye Zhongming, his chest armor released a projectile that shot toward the Cloud Peak King.

Midway through summoning ten shadows, Ye Zhongming sensed imminent danger. Aborting his initial plan, he redirected all shadows toward this new threat—both to intercept the projectile and assail the armored giant—while retreating to regroup.

“Enough!”

The lion-faced administrator’s roar shook the room as a massive palm struck the air at the chamber’s center. The resulting shockwave sent combatants sprawling—Ye Zhongming staggered several steps before steadying himself, while the second Nangmao attacker was blasted clean through the doorway.

“Take your posturing elsewhere.”

The shockwave not only separated the combatants but dispersed the black mist entirely, its toxins vanishing as though filtered away.

Silence gripped the room as all eyes turned to the lion-man.

“Star-Eye Clan—get out.”

Aslan’s briefly hopeful expression dimmed instantly. The other Star-Eye members seethed with bitter resignation.

“Nangmao Clan—get in.”

This follow-up command stunned the giants. Though less cowed than the Star-Eye Clan, their faces flushed with anger—yet none dared protest.

Only as they brushed past Ye Zhongming did the initial attacker mimic cracking open a skull—an unmistakable threat to the Cloud Peak King.

Outside, the Star-Eye group walked in heavy silence. The injured bronze warrior had received treatment and could now move unaided, though his arm would require time to heal fully.

The novices’ quarters were a crude encampment of tents—varied in size to accommodate different physiologies, yet clearly tiered in quality. The northwest corner reeked of latrines, while the northeast bustled with the clamor of kitchens and supply depots. Unsurprisingly, the Star-Eye Clan was assigned the northwest—nearest to the toilets.

Ye Zhongming couldn’t help but wonder—while the Star-Eye Clan teetered on collapse, surely they weren’t the absolute weakest?

But such questions were pointless now.

“Private combat is strictly forbidden in the novice camp—violators face execution. Remember this. Under these rules, theft runs rampant. Without evidence, you can only swallow the loss. Guard your spoils carefully—you’ll return here every other day to recuperate.”

Aslan, having steadied her emotions, delivered final instructions in the clan’s sole malodorous tent.

“The Novice Battlefield is a marathon. Leverage daily gains—there’s an organic marketplace here. Trade each day for what aids survival tomorrow. Be generous—only the living qualify for final rankings.”

All listened intently, even the usually dismissive Bu Lanuo and Shi Kangbo.

“For private trades, seek reputable major clans—and go together. Not for safety, but to avoid scams or coercion.”

“Additionally, official shops will operate here during the tournament. Their wares are genuine but exorbitantly priced. If you find critical supplies, don’t hesitate—survival comes first.”

A whistle outside signaled the impending camp lockdown. As the last arrivals, their time was already short.

“Alliances can multiply effectiveness—but beware deception. Once the battle begins, no rules bind conduct beyond survival.”

“Lastly, mere survival earns clan rewards. High rankings bring unimaginable benefits. Should you place prominently—saving our race—you’ll become Star-Eye heroes.”

“And heroes… receive commensurate power and privilege.”

A second whistle sounded. Aslan led the way out, offering a final, “Good fortune to you all.”

As the third whistle heralded the camp’s sealing, Aslan turned for a last look.

She wondered what fate awaited the Star-Eye Clan.