Some of those on their knees lowered their heads, not daring to look at anyone; some secretly breathed a sigh of relief after kneeling; and some even kowtowed directly to Jin Wuhao, their actions extremely humble.
No one condemned them, no one stopped them, because everyone understood that amidst such huge disparities, simply surviving was a luxury.
There were fewer and fewer people still standing. As they watched their friends leave one by one, their faces grew paler and their eyes filled with increasing complexity.
The scary-looking man stood in the crowd, his fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly.
His lips trembled, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he couldn’t say a word.
He looked at his friends kneeling on the ground, his eyes filled with anger and hatred, but also a hint of envy that he couldn’t explain—at least they no longer had to endure the torture of standing on the edge of a knife.
He started to hesitate.
A voice echoed in my heart: If I die, I will have nothing left.
Your people, your heritage, everything you have protected throughout your life will disappear with your death.
However, to live, even to live in humiliation, at least we can see the sun tomorrow.
His fingers trembled, his knees bent slightly, then suddenly straightened again.
Then slightly curved again, then straight again.
He repeated this process until the people around him looked at him strangely, it was at that moment he gritted his teeth and took that step.
“Excuse me.”
He was muttering something under his breath, but it wasn’t clear who he was talking to.
Then he quickly walked to an open space and knelt down.
With him taking the lead, many people who were previously hesitant finally made up their minds.
One by one, they emerged from the crowd, their steps quickening, as if afraid they would regret it if they slowed down even by a step.
The number of people kneeling on the open ground increased from hundreds to thousands, and from thousands to tens of thousands.
In the short time it takes an incense stick to burn, all the comrades-in-arms who had entrusted their lives to each other and the brothers who had fought side by side knelt on the ground.
Ning Zhi stood at the entrance steps of the main hall, watching the people who continued to walk out of the crowd and kneel on the open ground. His face was gloomy like the sky before a storm.
His hands were slightly clenched, and every vein was clearly visible under his skin.
He gritted his teeth, a wave of indescribable emotions welling up in his chest.
Anger, disappointment, hatred, and the stinging pain of betrayal—just moments ago these people were calling him “Young Master Ning,” discussing countermeasures around him, and swearing to fight the gods to the death.
Yet when Jin Wuhao arrived, they were like sheep that had seen a wolf, and all lowered their heads.
An elder of the Flame Demon lineage stood beside Ning Zhi, his old eyes filled with complex emotions.
He looked at those who had surrendered, then at Ning Zhi and Sonya, his lips moving a few times before finally with great difficulty managed to speak: “Young Master Ning, this old man’s Holy Maiden is too”
“What did you just say?”
Ning Zhi turned his head sharply, his gaze sharp as a knife fell on the old man’s face, his voice filled with undisguised cruelty.
Cold sweat dripped down the old man’s forehead, but the words had already been spoken and there was no taking them back.
His voice was hoarse and trembling: “I can’t sacrifice all the members of the Flame Demon bloodline in the twentieth heaven for the sake of you two. They still have wives, children, and elderly parents, as well as their own lives. As the clan leader, I must be responsible for the lives of my people.”
That’s enough.
Ning Zhi interrupted her, her voice cold, like ice water poured on fire, “If you want to give up, then give up. You don’t need to explain to me. Traitors never need an explanation.”
The old man’s body jolted, and he opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something to defend himself.
However, when he saw Ning Zhi’s cold gaze, all the words got stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t say a word.
He lowered his head and walked towards Jin Wuhao.
Behind him, the disciples of the Flame Demon lineage looked at each other, some with shame in their eyes, some with relief, and some lowered their heads, rushing to catch up, afraid of regretting if they were a step late.
After the last group of devil cultivators knelt down, only six people were left standing in the open space.
David, Jiang Xuelan, Xuanzhenzi, Xiaodaotong, Ning Zhi, Sonya.
Six people faced tens of thousands of kneeling demonic cultivators, a majestic and mighty Great Luo Golden Immortal, and countless elite gods that were faintly visible in the golden light that slowly unfurled behind Jin Wuhao.
This line-up looks very funny, but also very tragic.
FAQ Novel
Q: What critical choice is being debated?
A: The group must decide between continuing to fight, leading to certain death, or surrendering to ensure survival.
Q: Who is the first to openly surrender?
A: A woman in a blood-red robe approaches Jin Wuhao and kneels, advocating for peace with the gods.
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