Among the Japanese, a tall and thin general had a gloomy look in his eyes. Compared to the other Japanese, his height was obviously an anomaly.
He didn't fight the ordinary soldiers, but instead scanned the battlefield with his wolf-like eyes.
Finally, his gaze fixed firmly on one person.
"Worth killing!"
He muttered to himself, then, holding the knife in one hand, he strode forward.
He would raise his hand and strike anyone he encountered along the way, and those who clashed with him either had their weapons destroyed or had their faces cleaved in two.
A trail of blood had already stretched out behind him.
A moment later, he roared:
"You! Come and fight me!"
"My name is Otanihara! It's an honor for you to die by my hand!"
Hearing the shouts from behind, Zhang Ye kicked the Japanese man in front of him aside and then chopped off his head with a single stroke.
Just as I was about to turn around, a whooshing sound came from behind.
Zhang Ye bent over and then slashed his sword in the direction from which the sound came!
With a "bang".
The broad, evil-removing sword and the long, narrow Japanese sword clashed heavily together!
Otani Haru jerked his wrist and took a step back, a look of surprise clearly appearing in his eyes.
Zhang Ye raised his chin, his cold gaze as if he were looking at a dead man.
"This is the great sword used by my ancestors for generations! Can your Japanese sword compare?"
Otani knew the man before him wasn't boasting; he had already killed several of his own men. But now, he sneered:
"The knife is a good knife, and you are very skilled."
"But not everyone has your martial arts skills!"
"Now, you will all be slaughtered by us!"
Zhang Ye took a deep breath, roared, and charged forward:
"Then let's give it a try!"
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