Huang Feihu and the others quietly approached Jiang Ziya from behind and asked in lowered voices, "Marshal, what should we do next?"
Western Qi had just suffered a crushing defeat, and its morale was at rock bottom. By all rights, this was the perfect time to press the advantage and beat a dog while it was down.
How could Jiang Ziya not have considered that? The thought had crossed his mind as well.
Yet he cared for all living beings and could not bear to see more lives turned to bleached bones, more homes reduced to ruins. The Investiture of the Gods List could not be filled with mortal flesh and blood; that would only create more grievances and bring about even greater karma.
Wherever war spread, there would be displaced people and families torn apart. If baleful resentment accumulated for too long, it would eventually rebound upon the Primordial Wilderness and plant the seeds of another great calamity.
If they wished to survive this Investiture of the gods calamity and allow the heavens and earth of the Primordial Wilderness to enjoy peace and prosperity for longer, they had to address the source: forge fewer blood feuds, accumulate less resentment, and prevent baleful energy from growing ever denser in the world.
Jiang Ziya concluded that after the desperate battle between both sides, with corpses strewn across the field and blood flowing like rivers, everyone in Western Qi—including Ji Fa himself—was already terrified. If they offered them a way out now, there was a good chance the other side would surrender along with the tide.
Once he explained his reasoning, Huang Feihu immediately dispatched a messenger to Western Qi to persuade them to surrender.
"Commander, should our army make any moves to aid the surrender negotiations?"
Huang Feihu lowered his head