Xiahoudun watched, watched, and faced the impact of a famous Yellow Turban soldier, but there was no wave in the depths of his eyes. He was just a person, standing at the forefront, and behind him was the defense line built by the Han soldiers, even if there were these Han soldiers, the position where he was standing had already decided that he would bear the greatest pressure.

The spear in his hand came and went like the wind, and there was no pause between the dances, and the body of the Yellow Turban soldier was like a piece of paper easily pierced under the assassination of the spear. Only in the position of the chest, leaving a round hole the size of the index finger, when the Yellow Turban soldier reacted, he just looked at the blood hole in his chest in a daze, and the horror in his eyes showed that he could not sense where the spear came from or where it came from, and only fell to the ground in vain.

One corpse after another, lying three meters away from Xiahoudun, expanded three meters from where his body stood, and the body of a Yellow Turban soldier was found in each place. But no one could take a step closer to Xiahoudun, because from the moment they stepped into the gun, they were dead.

No matter how fast it was, even if three or four Yellow Turban soldiers came at the same time, his spear would always come and appear, becoming a dazzling shadow, killing them one by one. The gap during this period is extremely difficult to notice, every shot, every enemy, Xiahoudun killed him in order, the difference is their footsteps, which footsteps come first, then he is the first to die.

He didn't move, only his hands, the gun in his hand. What doesn't move is the heart, and it doesn't move, no matter how fierce the Yellow Turban soldiers who rushed in. In his eyes, that murderous aura was like a breeze caressing his face, at most it brought a trace of coolness.

Beads of blood continued to appear from the head of the spear, and were carried to the higher sky, and the sun shone down from top to bottom, smearing its blush and crystal clear.

Calm, Xiahoudun was extremely calm at the moment, and his body was inevitably stained with the blood of many Yellow Turban soldiers. The blood went from boiling hot, to cooling, from the weight of the clothes, to the dripping coagulation, and to become a viscous patch of bright red.

He could clearly perceive all this, but he didn't know why, but Xiahoudun didn't hesitate for a moment. The spear in his hand was stabbed out again and again at a tricky angle, which was extremely treacherous, so that the Yellow Turban soldiers who were facing it could not be sure, and finally they could only die under the gun.

There were also soldiers who were lucky enough to survive under Xiahoudun's gun, and after a shot missed, Xiahoudun decisively collected his gun and stabbed his spear at the Yellow Turban soldiers who were close to him. This can be said to be lucky, or it can be said to be unlucky, because this luck can only be done once, as long as the soldier still chooses to move forward, then Xiahoudun's second shot will definitely not miss!

"Bayonet." Xiahoudun snorted softly and took a step back.

This is the first step he has withdrawn backwards since the battle, and it is only the distance between such a step, and it has cost the lives of nearly a hundred Yellow Turban soldiers to get this step. It's just that Xiahoudun didn't retreat because of the Yellow Turban soldiers he was facing, he was trying to blend in with the military formation behind him.

A shot stabbed out, and a strong wind swept the sleeves of his robes. Next to Xiahoudun was a Han soldier standing and stabbing out the spear in his hand. The cold glow of the spear flickered, piercing the chests of the adventurous Yellow Turban soldiers without any emotion.

Guns are like long forests, and at the end of the road where the soldiers of the Yellow Turban Army are advancing, there is a forest of guns made of spears. The spears were spaced apart from each other, leaving only a tiny gap, which gave the Han soldiers with spears a space to move, but did not allow an adult's body to pass through calmly.

Xiahoudun blended into the spearmen's spear formation without hindrance, and the hole left in the pikemen's formation just now behind him was left for Xiahoudun. Now, except for the different armor he wears and the difference in height, in other aspects, Xiahoudun is completely no different from other pikemen.

Since he chose to integrate into the military formation, then he would no longer stand with these soldiers like he did when he was alone just now, so he should also advance and retreat with them.

With spears in his arms and muscles bulging, Xiahoudun stared at the hesitant Yellow Turban soldiers not far in front of him. Beside him were two spearmen of the Han army who acted like him, staring at the enemy in front of them with all their eyes pricked up, only ready for Xiahoudun's order.

A whole line of pikemen passed by, and the pikemen in their hands were all raised at the same height, and there was no difference of half a point. In addition to the difference in height, physique, and appearance, you will feel that they have long been fused together, and they are combined into a whole by different individuals.

Behind the pikemen in the first row, there were sword and shield soldiers in the second row, and behind them, there were pikemen in the third row. Standing neatly one by one, in this Han army camp, they don't need to face the enemies on the left and right, they just need to look in front of them and stare at the enemies in front of them.

"Kill!" Zhou Li shouted angrily and rushed forward with a gun.

Those stunned soldiers of the Yellow Turban Army were still between being on and not being separated, and at this moment, after the main generals rushed up, they had to grit their teeth and follow.

"Enter!" Xiahoudun took a step forward, and the pikemen of the Han army on the left and right moved in unison with him, and they took a step one after another.

One step on the ground, neat and tidy, even the dust and sand stepped on are almost the same.

"One, two, three." After silently counting three numbers in his heart, Xiahoudun stabbed his gun, "Thorn!" ”

As soon as the Yellow Turban soldiers stepped into the range of the gun array, they immediately met the uniform spear thrust. Hardly unexpectedly, many of the Yellow Turban soldiers were impaled through their bodies, and they didn't even have much time to react, perhaps even if they did, dodging one spear that stabbed at him, another spear would come with him.

If you can block the first branch, you can't be the second one, not to mention that in this gun array, almost every spear that thrusts forward maintains consistency. It was as if they were coordinated by a rhythm, and it was only a few tenths of a second after that, and in this short time, the gap that was almost imperceptible, was the time for some soldiers to react from hearing the order to realizing it.

There are first, some last, some fast and some slow. The only thing that is the same is that they are all the same when it comes to killing the Yellow Turban soldiers.

(End of chapter)