The job change is a bizarre and calamity; the nation begs me to tone it down.

The second coffin contained a middle-aged strong man who had lost an arm.

His eyes were tightly closed, and his brows were furrowed, as if he were still fighting the enemy in his dream.

That was Wang Zhenyue, the first commander of the Azure Dragon Legion, who once withstood the three alien races' forbidden half-body spells with only half his body, creating an iron wall to protect the lives of millions of civilians behind him.

The third bite...

The fourth bite...

Zhang Daoxuan walked very slowly.

His hands trembled as he stroked each of the cold coffins.

Every person lying here was once the brightest star of their time.

They should have enjoyed their later years amidst flowers and applause, and should have left an even more glorious chapter in history, but for the sake of this country, and so that future generations could live with their backs straight.

At the most brilliant moment of their lives, they chose to burn everything.

Then, with his body riddled with wounds that would terrify even the gods, he lay down in this dark and sunless coffin.

He prolongs his life through a method called "feigning death".

He was kept alive by a one-time legendary item and a bit of "qi" from the dragon vein.

They were Sherlock's trump card, and also Sherlock's most tragic victims.

Because this dormancy does come at a price.

Once awakened, the dragon vein will be severed.

Their long-dried life force will erupt completely in a very short time, like a shooting star in its final burst of light.

After reaching the ultimate sublimation.

That would mean their soul would be scattered and they would never be reborn.

This is a one-way ticket.

I woke up only to die.

Zhang Daoxuan stopped in his tracks.

He stood at the deepest part of the main hall, in front of the highest coffin, which was most tightly enveloped by the golden light of the dragon vein.

His hand landed on the cold start mechanism.

"Ancestor..."

Zhang Daoxuan's voice was hoarse, with a hint of sob: "Daoxuan... is unfilial."

At this moment.

The East China Sea defense line is on the verge of collapse, millions of sea monsters are about to land, and several coastal cities will soon be reduced to ruins.

Although the Hengduan Mountains have not fallen, the elven army is pressing in, and the southwestern province is in grave danger.

Wang Cang and a group of senior figures were held back by the alien race and dared not leave for even a moment.

Although there are saints in the country, they are ultimately outnumbered and outmatched in the face of alien demigods and the endless beast tides.

Sherlock was truly on the brink of national doom.

Besides this place, besides awakening these sleeping old monsters.

Zhang Daoxuan couldn't think of any other way to stop the group of crazed alien demigods.

Click.

The mechanism is turning.

The crisp sound was like a thunderclap in the deathly silent hall.

The once calmly flowing golden dragon vein suddenly began to boil violently, with countless golden rays surging wildly into the coffin.

Followed by.

A terrifying aura, so powerful it distorted the very space around it, slowly emanated from inside the coffin.

It was an ancient and vicissitude-ridden power, yet extremely domineering, like a peerless ferocious beast that had been sleeping for thousands of years opening its eyes, eyes powerful enough to devour the sun and moon.

laugh--

The sound of high-pressure gas being discharged rang out.

The heavy crystal coffin lid slid open slowly.

A hand, dry and withered like tree bark, yet containing explosive power, rested on the edge of the coffin.

Then.

An elderly man, dressed in a gray linen robe, with gray hair and a thin figure, slowly sat up from the coffin.

He didn't rush to speak.

Instead, he first took a deep breath of the damp air.

It was as if they were savoring the last sweetness of this world.

"Cough cough..."

The old man coughed twice, his voice somewhat hoarse, like an old bellows being pulled.

He slowly turned his head.

Those old eyes, which should have been cloudy, were now bright and piercing, as if two inextinguishable flames were burning within them.

"It's Daoxuan..."

The old man's voice was soft, carrying a hint of languor from just waking up, and a trace of indifference from having long seen through life and death.

"Why do you look so long-suffering?"

"I'm not really dead."

Zhang Daoxuan knelt down with a thud, his forehead hitting the ground heavily.

"This unworthy descendant, Zhang Daoxuan, pays his respects to Ancestor Ye!"

"Now... now the nation is in great peril, foreign tribes have joined forces to invade, the East Sea has crumbled, and foreign tribes from the southwest are pressing in. Wang Cang and the senior Night Watchers are guarding the gateway to these foreign tribes..."

"Sherlock...is in danger!"

"We have no choice but to disturb the Ancestor's peaceful slumber. Please, Ancestor... come down from the mountain to save the world!!"

Zhang Daoxuan's voice was filled with grief and indignation, echoing throughout the empty hall.

Every word is like the mournful cry of a cuckoo.

The old man sitting in the coffin—Ye Nantian.

The former God of War of Sherlock Holmes.

He once used his iron fists to suppress an era of unparalleled powerhouses.

Listening to Zhang Daoxuan's tearful account, Ye Nantian's expression didn't change much. He simply raised his hand with some difficulty and moved his stiff neck.

It made a crackling sound.

"Can't hold on any longer...?"

Ye Nantian murmured something under his breath.

He raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the heavy mountains and the raging wind and rain, looking towards the distant east and then towards the southwest!

There, he sensed several repulsive auras.

That's the smell of the sea.

And the fake scent of grass and trees emanating from those long-eared elves.

"hehe."

Ye Nantian suddenly laughed.

The laughter grew louder and more unrestrained.

The entire hall trembled, and the luminous pearls on the dome fell down in a flurry.

"Great! Excellent!"

"I've been sleeping for over a hundred years, my bones are practically rusting. I thought I'd rot in this crystal box for the rest of my life."

"I never thought I'd get to have one last good fight before I die!"

Ye Nantian slammed his hand on the edge of the coffin.

He leaped out of the coffin like a roc spreading its wings and landed steadily in front of Zhang Daoxuan.

With his movements, a vast and boundless life force erupted from his body, his previously dry skin began to fill with moisture, his gray hair instantly turned black, and his hunched back straightened up.

It only takes the time it takes to breathe.

The old man who was nearing the end of his life had disappeared.

Instead, there was a middle-aged war god with a burly build, a resolute face, and an overwhelming fighting spirit!

This is him burning his last breath.

I would trade all my future reincarnations for this ultimate battle.

Ye Nantian reached out and pulled Zhang Daoxuan, who was kneeling on the ground, up.

The actions were rough, yet they carried the concern of an elder.

"Stop crying, it's embarrassing."

Ye Nantian straightened Zhang Daoxuan's disheveled collar, and a hint of tenderness flashed in his eyes as he looked at this junior whose temples were already gray.

"Back when I held you in my arms, you were still wetting your pants."

"In the blink of an eye, he's become a decrepit old man."

Zhang Daoxuan's tears flowed uncontrollably, and he was so choked up that he couldn't speak.

"Alright."

Ye Nantian patted Zhang Daoxuan on the shoulder, his tone becoming serious: "Tell me."

"Is there new hope for Sherlock now?"

This is a very harsh question.

If his sacrifice was merely to buy time and live a few more days, then it was meaningless.

What he wants is a future.