The light of the fire at the head of the city was dim, and like the soldiers on both sides who were fighting, their lives were like the flames that were stirred by the strong wind when they swung their swords again and again, and they could be extinguished at any time. Although this comparison is a bit ridiculous, how can someone swing a knife to drive the air flow to blow out the flame on the torch.

But this is indeed the case, here, no matter which side the soldier's life is, it is as light as a feather. Not even the fire burning on the torches, at least they will not be extinguished by the wind, but their lives can be extinguished at any time.

Fighting, colliding, not retreating. Behind each soldier, it is like everything that is guarded by him, or for his own life, in short, no one is cowardly, no one retreats. There may also be soldiers who are expecting the other party to collapse first, and this dark expectation supports him to fight until the last moment.

In this darkest hour before the dawn, everyone is looking forward to seeing the final dawn, whether it is the commander of the Han army, or the commander of the Yellow Turban Army, from them to the lowest soldiers, they have not lost this expectation.

At the same time, there is darkness on the other side, and only one side can see the dawn and embrace the light.

The soldiers of the death battalion who were fighting bloodily did not notice that there were figures in the deep night sky that were rapidly approaching and falling. Their attention was completely on the Yellow Turban soldiers in front of them, and the breathing, heartbeat, and ruthlessness when swinging the blade were palpable. Any superfluous action, including even a momentary glance elsewhere, is like suicide at this time.

Therefore, when Sun Jian, who was fighting on the same wall as them, was not far away, he noticed the shining sword light. The heads of the soldiers of the death battalion appeared at the same time, but they didn't see it like Sun Jian.

"Watch your head!" Sun Jian's shout sounded, accompanied by the falling bean soldiers.

They came from the sky, unpredictable tracks, fell, fell among the Han soldiers besieging the city, and in an instant, the white sword light with a dark background as a curtain under the firelight instantly turned the most vivid red.

"Damn it!" With red eyes, Li Qianjun continued to take a step forward, and the long knife that had been slashed forward was withdrawn, facing the sky.

The left hand was also clenched into a fist, and a punch was struck, and the whole arm let out a series of popping sounds. His fist struck the temple of the Yellow Turban soldier in front of him, and the bulging, hardest bone joint impact on it actually burst the Yellow Turban soldier's head! Li Qianjun's arm was castrated, passing through it, as if he was chasing something among the flowers.

But at the same time, a long knife was sinking into his ventral position, and blood was flowing down his body. After the death of the Yellow Turban soldier, the long knife still advanced a few more points inward, and with each point of advancement, the cold touch, with pain, roared in Li Qianjun's head.

It's just that a series of things, emotions, and thoughts brought about by the severe pain can't affect Li Qianjun himself. It is the body's instinctive stress response, which belongs to the "optimal" choice made by the brain, which is forcibly erased by him and replaced with a coping method derived from rational thinking. He was always calm, like the coldest machine, and would only make the right choices at the right time, nothing more.

You can't dodge, whether it's an attack from top to bottom or from the front, there is destined to be one who can't dodge. So, the wound was exchanged for death, and the lightest point was taken.

His arm was pressed down, and the long knife hanging high was shortened in an instant, and the back of the knife hit the helmet he was wearing on his head, making a crisp sound. The left arm was quickly retracted, and as the Yellow Turban soldier fell forward, he grabbed the handle of the long knife in his loose palm, pulled it out with his backhand, and a puddle of blood splattered out with the movement of the long knife.

Taking a step back, in front of Li Qianjun, there was already the enemy who had made him feel death in a split second. However, he didn't look carefully, between advancing and retreating, Li Qianjun once again chose to move forward.

A knife was swung out, colliding with the long knife that the bean soldier also swung out, impacting, and the palms of both of them felt a little sore. It's just that the bean soldiers don't have any actual damage, or no matter what the damage is, it's nothing to it, and the tiger's mouth of the force is cracked again.

His whole person has long become a complete bloody person, from the beginning of the battle to the present, in the body of Li Qianjun, the most important thing is blood. There were his, there were also the soldiers of the Yellow Turban Army, and those of the death battalion comrades who fought side by side with him. Blood is mixed, and when there is no moment when it is really dry and coagulated, it is often the blood of the previous moment that is splashed on the top, and when it flows down the armor, the next moment there is fresh blood coming.

All the wounds on his body, not to mention scabs, a series of pulling movements, the wounds are in a state of tearing all the time. There is only pain with it, but it lasts until the end, and Li Qianjun's pain has become numb, which is probably one of the only advantages of the brain that is easy to "emotional"?

The long knife in his left hand slashed out, and in an instant, slashed through the neck of the bean soldier, splitting his body and head into two distinct individuals. Li Qianjun has always known the cruelty of the battlefield, so he never minds learning any means that will help him survive on the battlefield, and his current left-handed knife is.

If someone thinks that he only has one knife, then he will come out with a second knife, and if someone sees his second knife and does not die, then there is a third knife. Although the third knife is still being learned.

Li Qianjun's gaze froze, and when the blade of the long knife in his left hand was retracted, he didn't see any familiar blood appear under the flying skull. Already retracted, the tip of the knife pointed obliquely at the ground, the muscles of the arm in a rare state of rest were highly tensed, and without hesitation, he swung the knife towards the bean soldier who was already a "dead man".

"Boom!"

When the blades slashed each other, the force felt by the arms, and even the sound made by the blades, Li Qianjun realized that the seemingly normal Yellow Turban soldiers who fell from the sky in front of him were not people.

Fortunately, when it is not confirmed that the enemy in front of him is really dead, Li Qianjun will not easily relax his vigilance. The biggest scar left on his body, the unforgettable, the pain that seemed to be absent every time he thought of it, always deepened his memory.

"Since you're not dead yet? Then it should be...... Chopped into offal? Li Qianjun grinned, his smile was extremely hideous, and the knife in his left hand slashed out again.

(End of chapter)