The Yellow Turban Moth Thieves were moving fast, approaching the north bank of Yishui as fast as they could, but they also saw the Han army on the embankment, the big bows in their hands had already spread their strings, and as long as they entered the range, they would inevitably shoot those cold and shining arrows.

The black, shiny clusters of arrows exuded the aura of death, enveloping their bodies and especially their minds.

However.

The whining sound of the horn broke the enveloping aura of death, and they wandered forward quickly with the sound of the horn, and the horror in everyone's eyes flashed for a moment, and they were once again replaced by the eyes of the enemy, shooting indescribable anger.

As if they had seen their enemies for many years, the Yellow Turban Army became crazy and ruthless one by one, and the familiar cry sounded from their mouths again: "The sky is dead, and the yellow sky should stand." The year is in Jiazi, and the world is auspicious. ”

One by one, they hysterically shouted that this was the only belief that supported them, and this belief went deep into their bone marrow, making them surge a hundred times more courage, one by one, like dragons going out to sea, they took off the blades in their mouths, took out the weapons equipped with their waists, and began to launch the first wave of beach-grabbing landings.

"Quick, quick."

The shouts are getting closer and closer, but the Han soldiers are not afraid, the palms of the hands holding the bowstring are not a little relaxed, just waiting for Sima's order to shoot the arrows in their hands into the crowd of yellow turban moth thieves who waded into the water, at this moment they are like lambs to the slaughter, there is no time to dodge and there will be no room to dodge, as long as the second is accurate, they will definitely die.

"Shoot ......"

Liu Lan roared, and the arrows at the elevation angle flew away in unison, whistling. It's like a beautiful arc on the horizon, playing a beautiful movement, but in such a movement, there are only terrible cries such as ah-hmm, and soon such cries reach **, but only for a moment, but they disappear again, and become silent again, and after the silence, there is a more angry shouting and scolding, as well as the strong shouting and killing, like thunder, rising to the sky.

Hatred made them forget their fears and even fears, the death and injury caused by the arrows to their companions did not slow them down, but increased their speed, for them death is not terrible, only the thoughts in their hearts will make them miserable, in order to let the thieves of the world bestow their heads, they are willing to use their chests to make a way for their future brothers.

"Shoot!"

Liu Lan was deeply shocked by the expressions of these Yellow Turban soldiers who only held farm tools and didn't even have armor, what kind of will made them not afraid of death? The idea of whether he should or should not have once again appeared in his eyes, but when he thought of more people dying tragically because of their looting, Liu Lan's eyes began to sink, they were just ordinary people, they had no own plans, no correct ideas, and just blindly looted, not so much that they were changing the day, but that they were bringing the whole world into a deeper whirlpool.

Liu Lan's hand fell again, and the archers who had already taken out the latest long arrow from the quiver pot opened their bows and shot at these Yellow Turban Moth thieves who were still wandering in the water.

The dense long arrows once again covered the heavens and the earth, and the mournful cry came out again, and the drowning and deaths were directly shot at the vital point and countless people died, but such a slaughter, the bloody slaughter still failed to deter the Yellow Turban Army, and the hatred became more and more raging like a fire in the depths of their hearts, and everyone had only one sentence in their hearts at this time:

"Forward, revenge...... Move fast and find the Han army for revenge......"

The horn of the Yellow Turban main tent on the south bank of Yishui reverberated on the bank of the Yishui River over and over again, guiding the direction of the Yellow Turban Army, so that more and more Yellow Turban Army soldiers were killing towards the north bank.

Soon the Yellow Turban Army entered the shallow water from the deep water, and the distance between the two armies was already less than fifty paces. But such a distance was enough for the Han army to shoot one or two more waves of arrows, so Liu Lan waved his hand again, and the Han soldiers neatly raised their longbows, and even some Han soldiers who used crossbow machine short bows had already drawn their bows and wound their bows, drawing their bows and waiting to shoot, just waiting for Sima's next order.

"Shoot!" Liu Lan's hand fell again, and with this roar, only the piercing sound of the bows and crossbows that tore through the air was heard, and the rain of arrows in the sky roared out like raindrops, shooting into the array of the Yellow Turban Army without any dead ends, but in an instant, the heart-rending screams and cries resounded throughout the audience again, but such a miserable cry soon became two words:

"Kill!"

The Yellow Turban Army finally landed on the riverbed, and they advanced so fast that Liu Lan didn't even think about shooting the last wave of arrows, so he had to shout at his brothers to drive the Yellow Turban Moth thieves who landed into the easy water.

"Kill ......"

The first moth thieves to land on the shore raised their weapons and rushed towards the Han army without hesitation, even if there was a mountain of swords and a sea of fire in front of them, the Yellow Turban soldiers who were full of anger in their chests became fearless, because they wanted revenge!

The sound of the horn on the south bank of Yishui became more and more intense, and the sound of the horn at this moment was no longer a simple signal to charge, but like a war drum, inspiring the Yellow Turban soldiers who climbed on the river bank to move forward and kill all the Han troops.

"Youzhou Military ......"

"Fight to the death, don't retreat!"

"Kill!"

"Kill~~~~"

Liu Lan roared wildly and jumped his horse to kill the Yellow Turban Moth thief, and then the Han soldiers roared wildly one by one, cooperating with Sima to shout their oath and then pounced on the group of dragons out of the water like mountain tigers, the battle between the dragon and the tiger was destined to be fierce, but the tiger at this moment was obviously condescending to press the dragon.

Just in an instant, the Han army that rushed into the disorderly moth thief formation was like a flock of sheep, destroying the withering and decaying, and slaughtering all the Yellow Turban troops on the banks of the mountaineering river.

The Yellow Turbans were once again driven back to Yishui, but an even bigger wave followed, and soon there was a fierce hand-to-hand battle again, one after another fresh lives fell, blood stained Yishui red, stumps surging in the water, and a tumbling corpse, but who would notice these to the two sides who didn't even have time to breathe in the battle?

In such a battlefield where swords and flesh are flesh and blood, who dares to be distracted? If one is not good, it will become a ghost under the knife, and all everyone pays attention to is the flying blade, the whistling knife in return, and even the iron hammer.

The standard ring-headed knife in the Han army and the different farm tools and blades of the Yellow Turban Army are fighting, the sound of gold and iron resounding endlessly and the angry scolding when fighting together echoes in the ears, as well as the screams before death, the horn of the Han Army and the Yellow Turban Army, the thunderous war drums, tragic, can never be described, tragic, and belong to both sides.