Ascension

Although much of what Ye Tai said sounded like self-deceptive rationalization, that was precisely how he had fought his way through the infinite universe and made it this far.

Tang Chuan had heard that Ye Tai had begged for mercy plenty of times. Ye Tai's reasoning was that as long as he himself knew he had not truly admitted defeat, it was merely a delaying tactic—lowering the enemy's guard, showing utmost sincerity when surrendering, gaining their trust, then smashing them over the back of the head without the slightest hesitation.

Some of his experiences left Tang Chuan utterly dumbfounded. Ye Tai had even said that when he was still weak, he had already maneuvered the forces hunting him into mutually restraining one another before gloriously choosing to surrender. Some who did not know the situation refused to accept it. As a result, whoever refused his surrender got beaten to death. In the end, none of the true big shots stepped forward to speak for those brave warriors he had killed—who were really just cannon fodder and Employees of the Year. He had surrendered in an outrageously swaggering fashion, with his nostrils pointed at the sky.

Of course, since he had made it this far, the fates of those big shots who had once hunted him down, only to later receive his surrender with fine wine and meat, were easy to imagine.

In truth, Ye Tai might have been hinting at certain things that were inconvenient to say outright by telling Tang Chuan all this.

He could not possibly advise the Calamity Supreme God to surrender, nor would the Calamity Supreme God ever do so. But perhaps he was tactfully reminding the not-yet-fully-awakened Tang Chuan not to let the limitations of humanity blind him.

If Tang Chuan was also uncertain about