Wa Keluo could never bring himself to believe that a just person would commit such an act. By the time he understood, the head had already fallen into Fan Ji'ao's hands, the eyes staring wide open, unaccepting of death.
The small remainder of the men, seeing that their king had been beheaded and listening to Fan Ji'ao addressing their own soldiers, felt their hearts stir with longing for the life they desired, laid down their weapons willingly, knelt down, and called out Fan Ji'ao's name loudly.
Fan Ji'ao rode his horse over, and looking down upon them from high above, his eyes devoid of any luster, as if gazing upon the dead. His voice was barely audible as he said indifferently, "Do all of you wish to surrender?"
