There were people in the tent.
Living people.
There were men and women. There were seven or eight of them. Their hands and feet were tied with hemp ropes and their mouths were stuffed with rags.
These people's eyes weren't as numb as those bandits', and their bright eyes revealed their fear.
Zong Shen focused slightly.
The golden guide prompt arrived as expected.
(Poor natives robbed by bandits. If you are willing to save them and provide food, they will pledge allegiance to you. Your territory happens to lack manpower.)
It turned out to be ordinary natives with a similar background to the three foolish farmers.
Zong Shen heaved a sigh of relief and put down his kite-shaped shield.
Luna had already tossed the corpse into the bonfire.
It would turn it into ashes and never suffer any more blasphemy or pain.
She also saw the pitiful creatures that were plundered in the tent and took the initiative to speak.
