312: Chapter 312 But I Can't Even Save Myself

...

"Later, those little brats grew up."

Images flashed rapidly through the old man's mind.

Their heavy schoolbags were filled with thick volumes of 'Five Years of Gaokao, Three Years of Simulation' study guides.

Plastic swords were shoved into cardboard boxes under their beds.

They no longer ran wild through the streets, but instead bore heavy dark circles under their eyes.

Studying painstakingly under late-night desk lamps.

Later still, the red and blue towels disappeared.

They put on cheap suits and wore ties that choked their necks.

Within this vast social machine.

They became the most inconspicuous little screws.

During holidays, they would occasionally return to this old street and sit at the tea stall.

"Grandpa, this tea is still so bitter."

The boy who once brandished a plastic sword now had a hairline that had receded beyond recognition.

He rubbed his brow wearily, drank his tea, and sighed softly.

They no longer talked about saving the world.

They would only complain about how disgusting their bald supervisor was for always calling meetings before clocking out.

Complain about not being able to pay next month's mortgage.

And cry about their girlfriend of three years breaking up with them over the bride price.

That boy with the blue towel who once wanted to drive away monsters got drunk, collapsed on the tea table, and wailed.

"Grandpa..."

"The me who wanted to save the world as a child can't even save myself now."

"Saving the world is all a lie; just staying alive is so hard."

The light in their eyes had gone out.

They had transformed into someone just like the millions of ordinary people in this world.

With a numb, mediocre, and gray backdrop.

If the world had continued to be this ordinary.

They would have continued to be subservient for a salary of a few thousand yuan, endured the 'big/small week' schedule and unpaid overtime, and exhausted their lives for mere daily necessities.

Finally dying quietly on some hospital bed after exhausting their savings.

——

"ROAR!!!"

The Abyss Demon General let out an ear-shattering roar.

Its massive body pushed forward once again.

The Abyss Demon General, with its strengthened power, was no longer something that could be easily blocked as before.

"Zhuge Jinyu, let's go."

Ye Jingjun said in a deep voice.

The Great Wall of sword energy formed by human warriors began to collapse on a large scale in the face of absolute power.

A sense of despair spread through the air.

"We can still handle this guy for now."

"But we are the only ones who can handle it."

She was just about to take flight.

But was suddenly stopped by Zhuge Jinyu beside her.

"Don't act rashly."

"Haven't you noticed yet?"

Being stopped like this, Ye Jingjun felt a bit anxious.

"Of course I noticed, these guys are all split from the octopus monster locked in by that so-called President of Flower Feather Society."

"As long as the octopus monster doesn't die, these guys won't be completely destroyed and can keep resurrecting."

"But just because they can resurrect, you can't just let them wreak havoc, right?"

Zhuge Jinyu shook her head.

"Before you killed it just now, that guy's strength was roughly around the Twelfth Stage."

"But that sword strike of yours was already at the transcendent level of the Thirteenth Stage."

"Sure enough, after it resurrected, its strength also reached the Thirteenth Stage, just like the strength you used to kill it."

"This just goes to show..."

Ye Jingjun's delicate body trembled.

How could she not know what this meant?

"So... its strength after resurrection is set based on the intensity of the attack that killed it?"

...

The old man at the tea stall seemed to not have heard the discussion between Ye Jingjun and Zhuge Jinyu at all.

He just tremblingly stretched out his withered hand, pointing at the gap in the torn defensive line above the sky.

"But, the apocalypse has come."

"Those good-for-nothing boys who originally thought they would live ordinary lives and be trampled underfoot by life."

"In the face of disaster, they actually awakened their talents, though I don't know if it's fortunate or unfortunate."

"Although it's just the lowest E-grade talent, let alone joining the Hall of Valor, they aren't even qualified to sweep the floors for the official Hall of Valor."

"Although they can't afford divine weapons, and can only use their meager wages..."

"To scrape together money to buy the lowest quality alloy blades..."

The old man's finger pointed firmly in the strong wind at that expanse of the sky stained red with blood.

"Look... they are right there."

Zhuge Jinyu and the six women, and even the soulless husk of Su Chen.

All looked in the direction the old man was pointing.

High up in the sky, hundreds of meters above their heads.

At the very front of that gap that was about to collapse completely and was being ravaged crazily by the Abyss Demon General.

Stood six male warriors, covered in blood and riddled with wounds.

Their cultivation was, at highest, barely the Fifth Stage.

In front of that hundred-foot-tall demon general, they were so small they were not even as significant as a speck of dust.

But.

Over their tattered, low-quality combat uniforms.

On their foreheads and around their necks.

Tightly tied were strips of long-outdated.

Red and blue striped face towels.

That vibrant red and blue, if tied on ordinary adults, might seem comical and childish.

But at this very moment.

In the gloomy, desperate sky, amidst the rolling black demonic energy.

It added a touch of eye-catching, soul-stirring intensity.

Twenty years ago, they held fifty-cent plastic swords in their hands, facing imaginary monsters.

Twenty years later, they held chipped alloy blades in their hands.

Facing a nightmare that could truly devour the entire world.

Facing a monster that could resurrect based on the damage calculated before its death.

Zhuge Jinyu and the others didn't dare to make a move.

Clearly, the other warriors fighting in the air had also discovered this point.

"Everyone, listen to me!"

"To defeat this guy, we cannot adopt the usual 'brute force' method."

A warrior standing at the very front of the group shouted.

"We've been entangled with it for so long, we've basically figured it out: its eye socket is its absolute weakness."

"As long as an attack from a low-level warrior can pierce its eye socket, it will resurrect with the strength of that low-level warrior who killed it."

"Once its strength is reduced, the threat will be greatly diminished. We only need a small number of brothers to keep it entangled—no need to kill it—and the rest of us can go support other battlefields; this front line can also turn from danger to safety."

"So, as long as one brother is willing to..."

But.

Before he could finish his sentence, everyone fell silent.

For a low-level warrior to use power sufficient to reach that of a high-level warrior and pierce the eye socket of the guy in front of them.

There was only one possibility.

That was.

Burning their cultivation.

And after burning their cultivation, what exactly would await them?

Everyone knew it in their hearts.

So.

For a moment, even though everyone agreed with his suggestion, not a single person stepped forward.

"Captain, the defensive line is about to break."

"Behind us is our home."

"My mom is still in the air-raid shelter!"

A young man with a red towel tied around his forehead, half of his shoulder sheared off.

Gripped the hilt of his blade tightly.

And spat out a mouthful of blood.