"Isn't it just ten billion?"
What difference could one billion or ten billion make? It's all just small potatoes, just a number sitting in a bank account. But if the Human Race were enslaved, if it fell, if it went extinct, if it was gone, then no matter how many tens of billions Wang Zhan possessed, it would be utterly useless. What use is conquering heaven and earth, being invincible, if there's nothing left to protect? No home, no Human Race behind him; no city lights before him. So, today, he, Wang Zhan, would go to his death—to die on the battlefield where humans and beasts clashed, to die for the rallying cry that humanity would never be enslaved. This was the first time he had so profoundly and directly felt the true foundation of the Human Race's will to survive. Fearless in battle, fearless of death, unbending, never enslaved. Anyone who dares to insult, deceive, or harm me shall be hunted down and eliminated, no matter how distant.
