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

When he said this, Wang Cang spoke casually, as if the person about to die was not him at all.

There was not a trace of hesitation in his eyes.

And as he said, getting to this point requires not only climbing to the next level.

I've long since become indifferent to matters of life and death.

They could even accept the fact that they might perish in the next second in a battle against an alien race.

Of course... once they reach their level, there is absolutely no chance of leaving safely.

Because everyone carries a heavy burden on their shoulders, carrying the hopes of a nation for the future.

If fatalism truly exists in this world, their destiny is most likely to be that they are severely injured during an invasion by an alien plane, and then invited into the Temple of the Gods, becoming living dead lying in a crystal coffin, barely clinging to life.

Until Sherlock was plunged into another catastrophe, burning out its last bit of power.

He had this awareness long ago.

They also accepted that this was their destined ending.

Because he always wants to do something for the country, the nation, and the people behind him.

If one could use one's own body as firewood.

To light the way for future generations is already a worthy death.

Sure enough, as soon as Wang Cang finished speaking...

Tang Yi's lips moved twice, as if he wanted to say something, but he found that he couldn't say anything.

Old Ge also fell silent.

They all knew in their hearts that what Wang Cang said was true.

Given the current situation, this is indeed the only solution.

but--

"No!"

Tang Yi finally spoke up: "Even if someone had to self-destruct... it wouldn't be your turn! You are the strongest demigod in Divine Summer! Your value is greater than—"

"What value is there to speak of?"

Wang Cang interrupted him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The smile, illuminated by the blazing sun, appeared both exceptionally aged and exceptionally serene.

"I'm 237 years old this year. I've had enough of living."

"It's you guys who are still young."

After Wang Cang finished speaking, neither Tang Yi nor Old Ge responded.

It's not that I don't want to answer, it's that I can't.

Because Wang Cang's expression was too calm when he said this.

It was so calm it was suffocating.

That was neither a resolute decision to face death, nor the tragic end of a hero.

It was an old man who had lived for over two hundred years, after he had arranged his own funeral.

That feeling of openness and relaxation.

It's as if he's not going to die, but rather that after a lifetime of hard work, he can finally take a break.

"I have no regrets about dying for Shensha."

Wang Cang took two steps forward and moved closer to the location of Lieyang Canxin.

The golden, scorching light shone on his face, illuminating every line and wrinkle clearly.

"I have something to tell you."

After deflecting the attacking Blazing Sun Guards once more, Wang Cang suddenly smiled, his tone shifting abruptly: "Recently, I've been having frequent dreams about those old guys who have passed away!"

"They asked me—'Old Wang, how's Sherlock going these days?'"

"It's a pity that I can't speak in my dream."

His tone carried a hint of regret, but within that regret lay a touch of a smile.

"Otherwise, we would definitely have to tell them that Shensha is much better now than when you were here."

"We've conquered those secret realms one after another. Those hurdles that you thought you couldn't overcome back then, we've overcome them all since."

"And those geniuses."

When he said those two words, Wang Cang's eyes lit up.

"Back in our day, changing jobs was a matter of luck, and breaking through a rank was like risking your life."

"But what about young people these days? They're all incredibly skilled, and each one is more outrageous than the last."

"Especially one little guy..."

"Call him Gu Xu."

"An eighteen-year-old brat has already reached the point of slaughtering demigods!"

"A demigod. Back in our day, that was something we wouldn't even dare to dream of. But that little guy took care of it so easily."

Upon hearing these words, Tang Yi and Old Ge felt as if something was blocking their chests.

Of course they knew Gu Xu.

They just didn't expect that at this moment, on the verge of death, Wang Cang wouldn't be reciting any last words or dying instructions.

Instead, he was proud of a younger generation.

"The only pity is..."

Wang Cang exhaled, and that breath turned into a cloud of white mist under the scorching sun, disappearing in an instant.

"We can't see how far that kid will ultimately go."

"How far can we go? Can we reach the top of this world? Can we accomplish what we old folks never dared to dream of in our entire lives?"

"I, this old man, will not be able to see these things."

His voice became very soft at that moment, so soft that it was almost drowned out by the howling of the blazing storm.

But every demigod present heard it clearly.

silence.

A brief, yet suffocating silence.

Then, Wang Cang's expression changed.

That sense of composure and emotion was instantly withdrawn.

Instead, they adopted an expression they were more familiar with.

The old man who dominated most of his life, the one who overshadowed all the demigods in the world, is back.

"Alright! Enough with the nonsense!"

Wang Cang spoke again, his back to all the demigods who were still struggling behind him.

The voice suddenly rose in pitch, its shout piercing the entire battlefield.

"Listen up, everyone!"

The roar made the eardrums of the nearest demigods buzz.

"If this drags on, we'll all die here! Every single one of us, not one left. Rather than being burned alive like cowards, we might as well risk our lives and give it a shot!"

His pipe was still tucked into his waistband, swaying slightly as he spoke.

"I'm going to self-destruct my source in a bit, blasting a path through you!"

"Everyone—"

He pointed at the crimson sphere above his head: "Everyone, aim at that thing and charge at it!"

Whether we can win or not is another matter, but at least... we made an attempt!

These words struck everyone like a heavy weight.

Yuta Hima tightened his grip on the knife. He lowered his head, and the blade reflected his face, which was covered in sweat and burn marks.

He knew better than anyone the sordid affairs between Japan and Sheikha.

The two countries have never been friends.

Throughout history, the struggle, both overt and covert, has never ceased.

But at this moment, the calculations and games between nations suddenly seemed incredibly distant.

He looked at the old man in front of him, who was hunched over, covered in wounds, yet kept his back straight.

Only one thought remained in my mind—this person deserves respect.

It wasn't because he was strong, but because when everyone was about to despair, he chose to use his own life to exchange for a possibility.

Even if the possibility is extremely small.