"You don't really intend to take these tens of thousands of people back, do you? We neither have the time nor the energy to transport so many people back."
"Of course not." Xia Jing laughed lightly. "According to the surrender rules of the barbarian tribes, all warriors are to be killed. I'm just saving some effort for the brothers."
"In a while, let Zhang Yi go and recruit a batch of barbarian soldiers. Not many, ten percent will do, about eight hundred men. Then let these people pick up weapons and separate the remaining warriors, making them kill their own people in batches."
"At most, there are seven to eight thousand graded warriors. What about the rest?" Zhao Xing asked. "The Hana Tribe does not revere the Great Zhou."
"Release all the old, sick, and infirm," Xia Jing said. "As for the rest, bury them alive."
"That's good." Zhao Xing breathed a sigh of relief. He was afraid that Xia Jing would soften, so he asked specifically.
