Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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Seizing the moment, Han Sui led a swift cavalry charge from a hidden trail, crashing into the Xiongnu’s exposed flank. The sudden assault caused panic to ripple through the Xiongnu ranks. The coalition’s previously unshakeable unity wavered as tribesmen stumbled over each other in the confined space, trying to avoid the relentless rain of arrows and the onslaught of Han soldiers pressing in from all sides.

Batu and Zolgar, realizing the Han forces had set a deadly trap, quietly withdrew their own men from the battle under the guise of regrouping. They knew that any visible sign of hesitation or betrayal could draw suspicion, but their true loyalty to the Han made them unwilling to risk their men in a hopeless situation.

Even though Batu and Zolgar had withdrawn most of their forces, they soon received reports that some of their men had been caught in the trap and suffered minor casualties. The loss troubled them, but they accepted it as a necessary sacrifice to avoid suspicion.

With this small loss, they could justify their actions should Tugeh Khagan or the other chieftains question their commitment or loyalty. Luckily for them, the chaos of the ambush covered their retreat.

The relentless rain of arrows and the surge of Han soldiers pressing in from all sides had created a whirlwind of panic, allowing them to slip away without drawing attention. The other chieftains and tribesmen were too preoccupied with surviving or regrouping to notice Batu and Zolgar’s strategic withdrawal.

Back on the ridges, Ma Teng and Han Sui observed their strategy unfolding with ruthless precision. Their forces, positioned high above the Xiongnu, maintained a constant barrage, hemming the enemy in from all sides.

The trap was holding, and the Xiongnu were finding it nearly impossible to organize themselves amidst the steep and treacherous terrain. Seeing the opportunity to further capitalize on the momentum, Ma Teng ordered his son, Ma Chao, along with Chen Yin, Han Sui’s fiercest general, to lead a renewed assault.

These two renowned generals, each with a reputation for relentless bravery, joined the fray with their elite troops. Their presence revitalized Cao Cao’s forces, sparking a fiercer and more devastating attack.

Ma Chao, clad in his iconic silver armor, led his men down a narrow pass, his spear flashing as he cut through Xiongnu warriors attempting to regroup. Chen Yin, a stout and seasoned veteran, took a different approach.

He commanded his men to fan out along the cliffside, raining down projectiles upon the scattered Xiongnu from multiple directions. The combined efforts of these two powerful generals shattered what remained of the Xiongnu’s organized resistance, driving them further into chaos.

Meanwhile, Batu and Zolgar stayed vigilant, watching for the ideal moment to initiate a full retreat. With each passing minute, the Xiongnu’s losses mounted. Some tribesmen, desperate to escape the slaughter, turned on their own allies, pushing and trampling one another in an attempt to flee the carnage. The narrow trails and sheer cliffs turned into death traps as men and horses alike stumbled and fell, their cries echoing through the mountains.

When the time was right, Batu raised his hand and signaled a retreat. His men, understanding the precariousness of their situation, did not hesitate. They began withdrawing, taking care to appear as though they were simply leading the remnants of the coalition to safety.

Zolgar’s forces did the same, their disciplined retreat contrasting sharply with the panicked exodus of the rest of the Xiongnu. For Batu and Zolgar, the heavy casualties among the Xiongnu only served to reinforce their decision to support the Han. The Han forces were relentless, pressing forward with a brutal efficiency that left little hope for any who lingered.

The narrow mountain paths became chokepoints of carnage. The Xiongnu warriors, pushed forward by those behind them and forced into tight spaces, found themselves pinned against the rocky walls or trapped underfoot.

The panic spread like wildfire. Warriors tripped over one another, horses reared in fright, and confusion reigned. Men who had once marched confidently into battle were now desperate to survive, shoving and clawing their way through the dense mass of bodies. Those who fell were trampled by their comrades or horses, adding to the already staggering casualties.

Ma Teng and Han Sui, watching the scene unfold, signaled their men to pursue, but cautiously. The Han soldiers moved forward at a slower pace, maintaining pressure on the retreating Xiongnu without overstretching their own lines.

The steady advance allowed the Han to continue inflicting casualties while also rescuing their own wounded, ensuring they remained organized and ready to counter any unexpected Xiongnu counterattack while at the same time reduce the number of casualties they could possibly gain.

As the remnants of the coalition spilled out from the mountain pass and onto the plains, Batu and Zolgar discreetly merged their forces with the main group. They maintained a calm and collected appearance, masking the relief they felt at having escaped the trap largely unscathed.

Among the other chieftains, however, resentment and blame simmered. They were furious at the heavy losses and the perceived incompetence of their leadership in the face of the Han ambush.

As they made their way back to the Northern Xiongnu Tribes Coalition encampment, tensions flared among the chieftains who had suffered heavy losses. Anger simmered in the group, and soon fingers were pointed directly at Batu and Zolgar.

Several chieftains openly blamed them, arguing that their decisions had led to the disaster in the mountain pass. The accusations ranged from poor judgment to outright betrayal, as the more vocal among them argued that Batu and Zolgar’s leadership had brought ruin to the coalition.

Batu and Zolgar, however, anticipated the backlash and kept their composure, knowing that engaging in arguments now could further fracture the group. With subtle glances and restrained gestures, they coordinated with a few other chieftains who also secretly supported the Han.

These allies helped calm the other chieftains, suggesting that they wait until they returned to the encampment to voice their grievances directly to Tugeh Khagan. Their persuasive words soothed the frayed tempers, at least temporarily, allowing the group to ride in strained silence.

The journey back to the encampment was somber, each chieftain weighed down by the sight of their reduced numbers. It was a stark reminder of the coalition’s waning strength. When they arrived, their haggard, dirt-covered appearance shocked the guards, who had expected to welcome a victorious army.

Instead, the sight of the warriors returning in battered condition left the guards whispering among themselves. The guard captain immediately sent word to Tugeh Khagan and his advisors, who were waiting in the main tent with anticipation, certain they would hear news of a resounding victory. But when the captain relayed that barely half the force had returned, with no spoils or signs of triumph, Tugeh Khagan and his advisors were stunned.

Tugeh Khagan’s advisors looked at him in alarm, but none dared to speak first. Tugeh Khagan’s face twisted in disbelief as he gripped the armrests of his throne. He barely managed to keep his composure when he nearly slipped from his seat, shaken by the unexpected failure.

He had united the coalition with promises of glory and conquest, yet here he sat, waiting to receive chieftains whose numbers had been decimated in just two skirmish and they haven’t even held the main battle yet.

As the tent entrance flapped open, the exhausted chieftains filed in, their faces grim and clothes still smeared with dirt and blood. Batu and Zolgar entered last, heads held high despite their weariness.

Seeing their disheveled state, Tugeh Khagan waved to his servants, ordering them to bring fresh goat milk and wine for the chieftains and to provide seating. He knew that if he was to understand the gravity of this failure, he had to first allow them to regain their strength and composure.

The chieftains drank in silence, stealing glances at each other, waiting for someone to address the elephant in the room. Tugeh Khagan, his voice low but steely, finally broke the silence.

”Explain to me,” he began, ”how our numbers have been so severely diminished. I trusted you all to lead us to victory, yet here you stand, half the men you left with.” His gaze fell hard on Batu and Zolgar, a mixture of accusation and disappointment evident in his eyes.

Batu spoke first, his voice calm, though it carried the weight of exhaustion. ”We were deceived, Great Khagan. The Han forces were far more prepared than we could have anticipated. Their leaders knew the terrain well and set an ambush that cornered us in the mountains. They used the terrain against us, pinning us down and showering us with arrows from high above. Our men were caught in a chokehold; it was a massacre.”

Zolgar nodded in agreement, adding, ”They exploited every advantage, herding us into narrow paths where we couldn’t maneuver. Their archers rained arrows from all directions, and we lost many brave men trying to break free. The terrain itself was a death trap—steep ridges, sheer cliffs. We barely escaped with our lives.”

The other chieftains, emboldened by Batu and Zolgar’s accounts, voiced their grievances. One of the chieftains who had lost many warriors spoke up, his voice thick with frustration. ”It was a disaster, Tugeh Khagan. We marched in thinking we’d catch the Han unprepared, but instead, we walked right into their trap. We need to change our tactics if we are to have any hope of victory.”

Tugeh Khagan took a long, deep breath, his expression hardening as he considered their words. His advisors exchanged nervous glances, sensing the frustration building in their leader.

For Tugeh Khagan, another defeat was more than just a lost battle—it was a challenge to his authority, a blow to his dream of uniting the northern tribes under his banner. Yet, as he looked around the tent, he knew that his power was fragile, balanced on the loyalty of these same chieftains who were now disillusioned.

Trying to regain control of the situation, he addressed his advisors. ”We cannot let this defeat break us,” he said firmly. ”The Han may have held the advantage in the mountains, but they will tire, and their supplies are not limitless. We can draw them out, wear them down. Our strength is in our mobility and our endurance on the plains.”

One of Tugeh Khagan’s advisors, a seasoned strategist, nodded thoughtfully. ”The Han forces have exploited our unfamiliarity with the mountainous terrain,” he said. ”But on open ground, we can use our cavalry and numbers to full effect. If we move to the plains and lure them out of their defensive positions, we stand a far better chance.”

Batu seized the opportunity to strengthen his covert alliance with the Han. He spoke, suggesting a new approach that, while seemingly in line with Tugeh Khagan’s plans, subtly favored a slower advance, which would buy more time for the Han forces to strategize.

”It’s true,” he agreed. ”The mountains have cost us dearly. We should avoid terrain that disadvantages us and rely instead on our strength in the open plains. The Han will grow complacent within their walls, and when they do, we can strike.”

Tugeh Khagan, despite his lingering frustration, was receptive to the idea. Though his ambitions had been checked, he understood the value in a gradual, more strategic advance. His coalition might have been bruised, but he was determined not to abandon his plans altogether.

”Then it is settled,” Tugeh Khagan announced, nodding to his advisors. ”We will regroup and establish ourselves on the plains, where our warriors can recover and prepare for a new strategy. We will not be lured into the mountains again. This time, we will dictate the terms of battle.”

With a sense of uneasy resolution, the chieftains dispersed, each retreating to their respective tents, some more satisfied than others. Batu and Zolgar exchanged a subtle nod before leaving, knowing they had steered the coalition away from further immediate harm and towards a path that could benefit their secret allegiance with the Han.

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains

Age: 32 (199 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 1325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 951 (+20)

VIT: 613 (+20)

AGI: 598 (+10)

INT: 617

CHR: 96

WIS: 519

WILL: 407

ATR Points: 0