"Be careful when getting rid of the disease!" Zhao Yan saw two Uighur soldiers rushing towards Zhang Huan at the same time. In desperation, he opened his bow and arrow, and a wolf-toothed arrow shot out, shooting one of them over, while the other flew over without his life. He grinned and slashed the knife in his hand towards Zhang Huan's neck.

"Good come!" Zhang Huan held the hilt of the knife with both hands, shouted loudly, and used all his strength to slash at his knife. "Crack!" The two swords were in line, and sparks flew everywhere. Just as the people and horses were in conflict, Zhang Huan flipped his hand and the blade hit him in the face like lightning.

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Zhang Huan slowly drew a blood knife from his head that was split in half. The refreshing pleasure stimulated his whole body. He did not feel terrified at all, but felt an inexplicable excitement.

At this time, the battle had ended, and all nineteen Uighur scouts were killed, but ten guards were killed and injured.

"It's the first time killing someone!"

Zhao San patted Zhang Huan on the shoulder heavily, and a battle brought them closer together. He smiled affectionately: "It's very different from me, his grandmother's! I actually vomited when I killed someone for the first time."

Zhang Huan shook his head with a wry smile. He turned around and looked at the carriage. Xin Lang respectfully helped out a white-haired noble lady from the carriage.

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Chapter completed!