Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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Ma Chao arrayed his forces outside the city, his silver armor gleaming under the pale sun. He did not immediately attack. Instead, he sent messengers to provoke Han Sui and lower the morale of Han Sui’s army. ”Han Sui!” one of his heralds shouted from horseback, just beyond arrow range. ”Your own men abandon you! Three of your Eight Riders now ride with the Ma Clan! How many more will turn before this day is done?”

The words struck like arrows. Han Sui’s soldiers murmured among themselves.

Han Sui, standing atop the gatehouse, clenched his fists. ”Hold your positions!” he bellowed. ”Cao Cao’s reinforcements are coming! We need only endure!” But endurance was a luxury he no longer had.

The words of Ma Chao’s messengers had done their work.

Day after day, the heralds rode just beyond arrow range, their voices carrying across the walls of Zhenyuan like a slow poison.

”Your brothers have abandoned you!”

”Han Sui executes his own men out of fear!”

”Cao Cao’s reinforcements are still weeks away, do you truly believe you can last that long?”

The effect was devastating.

Within the city, Han Sui’s soldiers began to fracture. Whispers spread through the ranks, some men argued in hushed tones, others cast suspicious glances at their comrades.

The executions Han Sui had ordered in desperation now haunted him. Every man wondered if he would be next.

Ma Chao also maintained pressure without fully committing to a siege. His cavalry rode close to the walls in formation, arrows loosed at intervals, drums beat in rhythm meant not for battle, but for the nerves. His engineers began constructing siege towers and rams in full view of the defenders, psychological warfare in the open sun.

On the fifth day, the first deserters slipped over the walls under cover of darkness. Han Sui, pacing the command hall like a caged beast, turned to his remaining generals. ”Double the guards on the gates. Any man caught deserting, execute him publicly.”

One of his captains, a grizzled veteran named Bolun, hesitated. ”My lord... the men are already on edge. More executions might—”

Han Sui’s fist slammed onto the table. ”Do it!”

That night, three more men were hanged from the gatehouse. Their bodies swayed in the cold wind, a grim warning to the others.

By the seventh, a respected officer, Ju An, attempted to defect mid watch and was caught trying to signal Ma Chao’s men. In front of the garrison, Han Sui had him beheaded and his corpse thrown from the walls.

But instead of fear, it bred resentment.

Ma Chao watched from his camp, his sharp eyes missing nothing. The deserters had brought him valuable information, weak points in the defenses, dwindling supplies, the growing unrest among Han Sui’s troops.

On the eighth night, Ma Chao ordered a test of the defenses.

A probing assault at dawn saw a thousand of his best troops attack the eastern gate while another thousand harassed the southern wall. The defenders managed to repel the attacks, but at a high cost, over five hundred were killed, and the eastern gate had been severely damaged.

That night, a storm rolled in over Zhenyuan.

As lightning flashed and thunder rolled across the black skies, Ma Chao convened with Yang Qiu, Liang Xing, and Li Kan inside his war tent. The mood was electric, the men eager.

”Han Sui is finished,” Ma Chao said, his voice like thunder itself. ”Tomorrow, we will end this.”

They would strike before dawn, under cover of lingering rain. Ma Chao himself would lead the vanguard, his cavalry sweeping in with fury at the weakened eastern gate, while Li Kan’s infantry stormed the breach. Liang Xing and Yang Qiu would flank from the south, cutting off any attempted retreat.

At first light, just as the rain turned to mist and the scent of damp earth filled the air, Ma Chao mounted his white steed and raised his silver spear.

”For the glory of Ma Clan!” he shouted.

And the storm broke.

Zhenyuan was assaulted from three sides. The eastern gate, already battered, collapsed under the first charge. Ma Chao was the first through, his spear flashing like lightning, cutting down defenders who barely had time to lift their shields. His cavalry poured in behind him like a flood released from a dam.

Li Kan’s infantry swarmed the breach like ants, their war cries drowning out the confused orders of Han Sui’s generals. Inside the city, resistance melted into chaos. Civilians screamed and scattered. Soldiers threw down weapons or turned on each other.

At the southern wall, Liang Xing’s forces overwhelmed the defenders and seized the tower, allowing even more men to pour in.

Han Sui made one last stand in the governor’s mansion, surrounded by two thousand loyal troops. But by midday, Ma Chao’s men breached the compound, and the defenders were cut down to the last.

Han Sui was captured alive.

Bloodied and dragged before Ma Chao, the former warlord spat at his conqueror. ”I would rather have died than live to see this day.”

Ma Chao stared down at him coldly, spear dripping with blood. ”You had your chance to die with honor. Now you’ll serve as the example.”

That evening, Han Sui was paraded through the streets of Zhenyuan in chains. To the citizens and surviving garrison, it was clear, Han Sui had fallen. The Ma Clan now ruled the northwest.

But victory was not the end. It was the beginning.

For even as Ma Chao sat upon the throne of Zhenyuan, dispatching messengers to proclaim his victory and legitimacy, scouts rode in with grave news:

Cao Cao’s army, 250,000 strong, was on the march. Led by Xiahou Dun, Zhang He, and Xu Huang. Guided by the minds of Guo Jia and Jia Kui.

Meanwhile, in Xiapi, the news of the Ma Clan’s rebellion had reached Lie Fan through the Oriole network.

He wasted no time.

Orders were dispatched to his frontier armies:

”The Qinlong Army under Huang Zhong and Liu Ba in Julu, The Baihu Army under Dian Wei and Chen Deng in Chenliu, and The Zhuque Army under Taishi Ci and Bu Zhi in Henei, Move to the borders. Apply pressure but do not engage.”

A show of force. A distraction. Adhering to the secret alliance with the Ma Clan, but also to his true purpose in allying with the Ma Clan in the first place, only to create good impression.

Meanwhile, the Xuanwu Army under Zhang Chao and Zang Feng in Wan was ordered to prepare for battle. Lie Fan himself would lead the Qilin Army from Xiapi to join them, then strike at Liu Bei’s territory, starting with Xinye.

In the grand hall of Xiapi’s governor’s castle, Lie Fan’s inner council gathered. Jia Xu, Xun You, Chen Qun, Liu Ye, Chen Gong, Sima Yi, Lu Su, Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, and Xu Shu, all stood before Lie Fan, as their expressions sharp with anticipation.

Lie Fan tapped Xinye on the map. ”I would take this city without bloodshed if possible. Liu Qi governs there, he is adopted by Liu Bei as his god son, but recent reports suggest he may harbor doubts.”

Jia Xu, who had been reviewing the Oriole agents’ latest dispatches, nodded. ”Liu Qi has visited Liu Bei multiple times in recent weeks, likely seeking reassurance about the rumors. That implies uncertainty. If we provide him with irrefutable evidence of Liu Bei’s duplicity...”

Zhuge Liang’s fan stilled. ”We might sway him to surrender Xinye without a fight.”

Pang Tong grinned. ”And if he refuses? A show of force at his gates would make the decision easier.”

Lie Fan nodded slowly, fingers drumming thoughtfully on the table. ”If we can sway Liu Qi without shedding a drop of blood,” he said, his voice calm but resolute, ”then that is the path we shall take. Let us show the world that we are not merely conquerors, but visionaries who bring order through wisdom.”

The gathered council murmured their approval. Even the ever pragmatic Jia Xu offered a slight smile.

”Good,” Lie Fan continued. ”Then it is settled. We prepare the Qilin Army for campaign. Our aim, Xinye. Our message was to surrender, not destruction. But should we be met with resistance... we respond with clarity.”

With that, the meeting shifted from strategy to logistics. Chen Gong unrolled a series of scrolls detailing supply routes, while Xun You and Liu Ye outlined the movement of rations and armaments.

Sima Yi spoke on discipline, insisting that the army remain organized and courteous to civilians, that the people of the land see them not as invaders, but as protectors. Pang Tong cracked a joke about trusting soldiers with wine rations, drawing chuckles, even from the serious minded Xun You.

Hours passed. Orders were sealed, couriers summoned. The mood was tense but purposeful. Finally, as night crept over Xiapi, Lie Fan dismissed the meeting. The council dispersed into the castle’s many halls, their minds heavy with the responsibilities ahead.

Lie Fan did not retire. Instead, he walked through the training grounds, where the Qilin Army was already stirring. Black and red banners fluttered in the wind. Soldiers trained in organized formations, sparring under torchlight.

Horses were brushed and armored, weapons inspected by the watchful eyes of their officers. Lie Fan paused beside Zhao Yun, who had oversee the preparation much early for the readiness of the Qilin Army.

”They look strong,” Lie Fan said, folding his arms.

Zhao Yun grinned, his white feather head armor swaying. ”They are strong, my lord. Ready to die or win for you. But let’s aim for more of the second, my lord?”

Lie Fan chuckled. ”Let’s.”

Meanwhile, far from Xiapi, Lie Fan’s orders were arriving.

In Julu, the Qinlong Army stirred. Liu Ba, ever meticulous, coordinated rations and medical supplies while Huang Zhong finished inspections.

In Chenliu, the Baihu Army under Dian Wei and Chen Deng mobilized, the thunder of their war drums echoing across the plains as their heavy infantry and shieldbearers marched.

In Henei, the Zhuque Army under Taishi Ci and Bu Zhi began their strategic maneuvers, sending scouting parties into the borderlands.

Each army did not cross the threshold of battle. Not yet. But they pressed close, their banners visible from across rivers and hills, their presence a warning and a whisper, the winds have changed.

In Wan, Zhang Chao and Zang Feng sharpened the Xuanwu Army into a blade. Lie Fan had chosen well, Zhang Chao, fierce and unyielding, Zang Feng, tactful and just. The Xuanwu would serve as both hammer and shield, a fulcrum upon which the campaign would turn. And Lie Fan himself prepared the Qilin Army to move. Their advance would be precise, their target clear, Xinye.

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains

Age: 33 (200 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