With a longsword in his left hand and a curved saber in his right, Wang Yan lightly pressed his heels to the horse's flanks, and it slowly moved forward.
Ahead, a group of people holding sabers, spears, swords, and halberds slowly retreated, forced back beneath the gate tower just like that. They had no choice but to retreat. After the chaotic battle just now, the gate tower was littered with their dead—all slain by Wang Yan alone. The three hundred Yellow Turban bandits who had rushed over were now stripping armor from the corpses and arming themselves. In mere moments, they had formed a fully equipped military formation.
A crimson gleam flashed in the Yellow Turban rabble's eyes. At this point, they had little reason left. Arrows had rained down from the city walls, costing them some men during their charge, and then they had fought their way into the gate tower. There had been no tactics to speak of, only wild stabbing and hacking, and more of them had been killed.
What they had not expected was that the Military Marquis would truly be so valiant. Alone, he had withstood a storm of blades and forced his way inside, even having the spare strength to save them.
Thus, the fortified manor that had seemed impregnable to them had fallen, and they had changed into proper armor. What came next? Nothing but burning, killing, looting, and plundering.
The wealth of a powerful local family lay right before their eyes, practically within reach. How could their eyes not turn red...
Wang Yan raised a hand to suppress the restless Yellow Turban rabble behind him. He rode a few steps farther, reined in his horse, and shouted, "In this battle, it was you who raised arms first, not by my desire. I