"That great war from back then? The chance to glimpse ascension?"
Hearing Connie spout more new terms he had never heard before, Su Mo felt slightly confused.
The lion people had thirty entry opportunities. They even gambled nearly two hundred rounds worth of quotas once. Out of twenty or thirty thousand individuals, not a single lion person managed to reach a power rating of 3.
Out of all the alien races across the entire wasteland, only a mere ten thousand individuals had reached a power rating of 3 within those thirty rounds.
What did this mean?
The path of individual mysticism was a complete dead end!
If one were to draw up the profit chain on paper and divide the number of people with a power rating over 3 by the total number of participants across these thirty rounds, the resulting ratio would be pitiful. With such a chillingly low return rate, anyone with half a brain would refuse to continue down this path.
