At that moment, Han Bian drew his saber in perfect accord with his brother. The two exchanged a glance and a wink, then scrambled up like monkeys, pressing against Ji Shuqian's spear. Under his astonished gaze, one grabbed his arm while the other drove toward his lower back, and both rammed their heads into him in a manner utterly unlike a duel between mighty generals.
They looked exactly like street thugs in a brawl.
It worked well. With helmets reinforcing them, the double headbutt packed quite a punch. Unfortunately, Ji Shuqian was highly skilled, wore precious armor, and reacted quickly. Though the unexpected blows left his head spinning, his martial prowess remained. Thrusts, flicks, and sweeps were engraved in his bones, and he still had considerable fighting strength. A single reflexive sweep of his spear knocked the Han brothers away, opening some distance.
Han Sheng and Han Bian refused to give up. Without consulting each other, they abandoned their sabers and charged Ji Shuqian again, kicking at his groin. There was no armor protecting that spot.
As for martial honor? Please-with such an enormous gulf in strength, who was going to talk to him about martial honor?
A scream of agony rang out, pitiful enough to bring tears to anyone who heard it. Ji Shuqian's face turned blue and purple. His wounds had finally healed, and he had wanted to kill a few Shang generals to warm up and see how much strength he had recovered. He had never expected to fall victim to such a filthy trick.
Fortunately, he was a renowned general, with extraordinary willpower. He also knew that this was a battle, with no room for distracting thoughts. His eyes reddened, and he leveled his spear, thrusting straight at Han Sheng's chest.
The thrust was vicious, its