Upon hearing this, Zhang Jiao and several Yellow Turban Army leaders beside him looked towards the front line of the Song Army's defense.
Zhang Jiao furrowed his brows, "Let's hope there aren't many of these demons left."
If the Song Army had an endless supply of such "demons," then today's decisive battle would certainly end in a crushing defeat.
He could only gamble because dragging on like this would also mean losing, as the troops would gradually diminish, leaving no choice but to go all out.
In a vow to fight to the death, he burned his supplies, cutting off his own retreat, intending to fight the Song Army with no way back.
"Prepare the catapults!" Zhang Jiao raised his hand, and in the troop behind him, catapults as tall as small mountains were readied, and Yellow Turban soldiers began to load them.
However, the Song Army was three miles away, beyond the attack range of the catapults, so Zhang Jiao had to wait for the Song Army to get closer before launching.
