A Turkic cavalry leader wielded a curved blade, loudly commanding in the Turkic language. Next to him, several daring cavalrymen steadied their nerves, drew their bows, and shot arrows at the motorcycle.
Arrows whistled through the air, and Han Lei skillfully maneuvered the motorcycle, dodging left and right behind the windshield, causing the arrows to miss.
One or two arrows hit Ping Chuan and Hua Tianyou, but the insert-board bulletproof vests they wore protected them, rebounding the arrows off hard.
The opening of the petrol barrel wasn't large, and as the motorcycle raced along, the spilling gasoline drew a long arc along the ground.
The gasoline trail formed a faint arc in front of the Vanguard Camp, and the air was filled with a pungent gasoline smell.
"Miss Han, the gasoline is gone."
Ping Chuan shouted while taking out a firestick from his bosom.
"That's enough!" Han Lei shouted, "Light it up!"
"Yes!"
