He held his sword like an ordinary man.
Step by step, he charged toward Xu Zimo.
He knew he had already lost. No matter what, he would die. He merely wanted to die with some worth, rather than meet such an embarrassing end.
Everyone present was infected by his resolve.
So what if they died!
"Remember my name, Purple Autumn Peak, Zhuo Bufan."
"Hidden King Divine Palace, Wang Yin."
"Canglan Emperor Sect, Li Yuntian."
"Voidless Heaven, Wang Teng."
All sorts of names were called out, carrying a certain tragic grandeur.
At this moment, they sought neither to bear the Heavenly Mandate nor to survive. What they truly sought was only to be remembered by the world.
If, when mentioned now and then, someone could casually pass over their name, that would already be enough.
Humans were always like this. Greed could never be satisfied.
At first, they sought only three meals a day and a place to shelter themselves.
Later, little by little, they desired power, imperial dynasties, or to stand alone beneath heaven.
Sadly, for most people, only when death came did the greed in their hearts finally fall away.
"If you had known it would come to this, you should not have joined the Contention for Destiny," Xu Zimo said blandly.
"Sadly, apart from death, few people ever wake up with a start."
Everyone held their weapons and shouted out their own names.
Every one of those names had once rung like thunder—famous in one region, with countless deeds to their name.
Yet here, they were no more than crucian carp crossing a river, too numerous to count.
"Phoenix Platform, Ning Yue."
"Flying Camel Tribe, Luo Wenzhou."
Even now, people continued to announce their names and charge at Xu Zimo.
Though they were as weak as ordinary