All around, fleeing soldiers from the Qian army were everywhere, pursued by the knights of the North Guard army. Some Qian soldiers knelt, pleading for surrender. However, what awaited them was a merciless saber strike.
These were Li Fusheng's troops, the army of a madman. They were accustomed to such ruthless executions. The crimson in Li Fusheng's eyes mirrored the true state of their own hearts.
However, Zheng Fan was indifferent to all this, too unconcerned to intervene. War was indeed this cold and brutal. He also understood that for an army that had used blitzkrieg tactics to bypass enemy defensive lines and penetrate deep into their territory, capturing prisoners was an unaffordable luxury. They simply lacked the manpower to manage or control them.
Furthermore, Li Fusheng and his troops were to continue south by the next day; they certainly couldn't bring these burdens along.
