Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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”Lie Fan continued, ”I will send word at once to my men. The Ma Clan will have shelter under my banner. But they must reach the border first. That path will not be easy.” He turned to the four messengers, nodding. The he looked at his page. ”Prepare my order. And summon Chen Qun, Lu Su, and Xu Shu. We must plan for their arrival.”

Lie Fan’s page bowed and withdrew. Then Lie Fan placate the four Ma Clan couriers and then assigned them theirbwiaryers, which was beside the Ma Clan messenger who had stayed in Xiapi for couple of months.

Later that evening, Lie Fan stood alone in his study in the palace. The lights had dimmed, the noise of the court receded into silence. He looked down at the letter once more.

”Come to me, Ma Chao,” he murmured. ”And let us reshape this world together.”

Meanwhile, back on Wuwei, Days passed. The once defiant walls of Wuwei now bore deep scars from relentless assaults. Smoke curled from broken towers, and the stench of blood and burnt timber lingered in the air.

Food was being rationed with desperate precision as supplies was dwindling. What little water remained was warm, gritty with dust. The people no longer asked if they would survive, they only prayed that the Ma Clan had a plan.

Inside the battered city, Ma Chao stood atop the inner walls with Pang De and Ma Yunlu by his side. His eyes scanned the horizon, watching the distant camps of Cao Cao’s forces stretch like a noose around them.

But tonight, he noticed something different. Fewer patrols along the eastern ridge. The siege weapons had stopped firing. The battering rams sat idle, their crews dispersed and resting. The storm had quieted, if only for a moment.

Ma Chao didn’t smile, but something shifted in his posture. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

”Tell the others,” he murmured to Pang De. ”The moment we are waiting for have arrived. It begins tonight.”

As the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting the land in a dusky red glow, a quiet flurry of activity stirred beneath the ruins of Wuwei.

The plan, forged in whispers and late night meetings, was now in motion. It was a desperate gamble, born of necessity and sharpened by Ma Chao’s determination to preserve the Ma Clan’s legacy.

The forces were divided into three as planned before.

First group would be the heart of the Ma Clan.

Ma Chao would lead this group personally. Under the cover of night, he gathered the majority of the Ma Clan, elders, women, children, retainers, loyal guards, and what was left of their supplies.

They took only what they could carry, food, water, heirlooms, and scrolls containing the family’s history. Also some valuables as well to be traded with the Xiongnu. Soldiers surrounded the refugees with solemn faces, aware that their charge was not only to survive but to safeguard the bloodline itself.

They moved quietly through the northern gates, once a back entrance used for trade, now forgotten by the enemy thanks to the siege’s overwhelming focus on the front gates.

The route took them past old caravan paths, leading north into the rugged mountains past the Great Wall. From there, they would arc eastward, moving under the stars toward Xiapi. Toward Lie Fan.

Second group would go toward the southern trail.

Ma Dai and Ma Tie led this detachment. Brave and steadfast, they chose the more perilous route, southward through difficult terrain and thin mountain passes.

Their goal was to reach the edges of land of Shu and pass through Hanzhong, where Zhang Lu ruled. Though Zhang Lu had remained neutral in recent years, there’s rumours that he would likely succomb to Cao Cal by pledging his allegiance. But this route was chosen was to avoid heavy patrols from Cao Cao’s army.

If they succeeded, they too would press eastward, aiming to reach Lie Fan’s territory. This route was longer and riskier, but it ensured that if the first group failed, the Ma Clan would still have survivors pressing toward safety.

Lastly, the third group would be the diversion.

The third group remained behind, entrenched within Wuwei’s crumbling walls. They were the warriors who had followed Ma Teng in his earliest campaigns, the backbone of the Ma Clan’s army. Veterans with frost in their beards, hardened fists, and eyes that had seen decades of war. They were led by Ma Guan, stoic and unflinching, who knew what he had volunteered to do.

Their job was simple and cruel, make it look like Ma Chao and the family were still within the city. Burn fires. Patrol the walls. Shout commands. Launch sorties. Draw blood. Stall.

When dawn broke, and the enemy roused themselves for a fresh attack, they would find the city still defiant.

And so the night unfolded. Shadows slipped through alleys. Children were shushed and bundled in cloth. Horses were led by hand, their hooves wrapped in wool to mute the sound. The northern gates opened silently for the first time in months, creaking under the weight of dread and hope.

Ma Chao paused before stepping through. He turned to Pang De, who stood beside him with bloodshot eyes.

”Don’t look back,” Ma Chao said. ”The future is forward now.”

Then Ma Chao and Pang De stepped into the night, taking with him the beating heart of Ma Clan’s people.

Two days passed before Guo Jia realized something was wrong.

The siege was going smoothly or so it seemed. The scouts reported no signs of a breakout. The city still showed lights on the walls, and occasional archers returned fire. All was routine. But Guo Jia, ever the strategist genius he was, felt something.

It was too quiet.

He summoned Jia Kui.

”Something’s off,” he said, eyes narrowed as he studied the city through. ”No counterattacks. No death defying resistance. The last time we saw Ma Chao, he was reckless, furious. Now... nothing.”

Jia Kui frowned. ”They may be conserving strength.”

”Or they’ve already left,” Guo Jia muttered.

At once, he dispatched a wave of scouts to probe the city’s defenses. They approached cautiously, expecting resistance, and found only a skeleton crew guarding the gate. The surprise was immediate and chilling. Where were the troops? Where was the Ma Clan?

By the time they realized the truth, it was too late.

Cao Cao’s command post erupted with tension. Guo Jia stood unmoving while Jia Kui slammed his fist against the table.

”They escaped,” Jia Kui growled.

”Brilliantly,” Guo Jia said, bitterness coloring his voice. ”We underestimated Ma Chao. I thought he was a blunt sword, but he’s sharpened his edge. He fooled us.”

A dispatch was sent immediately. Orders went out to Zhang He and Xu Huang to assault the city in full. They had to reclaim Wuwei at all costs and capture whoever had been left behind. If they could take Ma Guan or any of the commanders alive, they might extract information on the escape routes.

But Wuwei would not fall quietly.

Ma Guan knew this was the end. His warriors stood atop the battered walls, shields locked, spears gleaming in the sun. They roared as the enemy surged toward them. Fires burned behind them, not out of chaos, but ritual. They were destroying what remained, ensuring nothing useful would fall into enemy hands.

Inside the keep, documents were torched, weapons broken. A final act of defiance.

As the gates fell, Ma Guan led the last charge. He did not retreat. His men, though outnumbered five to one, fought with the fury of cornered lions. Screams echoed in the courtyards. Blood slicked the stone.

When it was done, Ma Guan lay dead, his body broken but his face defiant even in death. Many of the veterans fell beside him. But their mission had succeeded. Ma Chao was long gone.

The journey east was grueling. Ma Chao’s group navigated treacherous mountain trails, fording icy rivers and avoiding patrols that seemed to appear at every turn. Once, they were nearly discovered by a unit of scouts but a sudden blizzard masked their retreat. It felt like fate was with them.

Ma Chao drove them on with quiet strength. He walked among his people, not as a warlord, but as one of them, lifting carts, carrying children, sharing what food he had. He did not sleep more than a few hours each night. His heart was heavy with the loss of Wuwei, but his resolve never wavered.

They meet with several Xiongnu scouts, but after giving the valuables he had brought, Ma Chao and his people safely passed through and continue their journey.

In the southern path, Ma Dai and Ma Tie faced their own trials, bandits, treacherous roads, the political uncertainty of Hanzhong. Yet Zhang Lu, a cautious figure, allowed them to pass even though knowing Cao Cao was on a big war with them.

Perhaps he feared the combat power of Ma Dai and Ma Tie’s group or perhaps he respected the desperate nobility of their cause.

Then days passed. Wounds were tended. Camps were made under starlight.

And then, one by one, they began to arrive at the border of Lie Fan’s domain.

First, the Oriole Agents spotted the remnants of Ma Dai’s group limping into the outer border of Xiangyang and Xinye. Then after that came the first riders from Ma Chao’s group, exhausted, dirty, but triumphant as they reached the Great Wall under Lie Fan’s domain and I’m the outer border of Jinyang.

When the reports reached Lie Fan’s hands, the late afternoon sun spilled golden rays through the ornate windows of his study, illuminating the fine calligraphy that detailed the Ma Clan’s miraculous escape and their progress toward his domain.

Lie Fan exhaled slowly, a rare smile curling on his lips.

”They’ve made it,” he whispered.

He immediately called for a servant and gave instructions for the reports to be copied and sent to Chen Qun, Lu Su, and Xu Shu, three men already entrusted with overseeing the preparation for Ma Chao’s arrival and the resettlement of the Ma Clan.

Their task was no small one, securing temporary shelter, arranging long term housing, providing food and medical aid, and, most importantly, ensuring dignity and honor were preserved. This was no band of beggars, they were warriors, elders, and heirs of a noble lineage that had survived fire and ruin.

After dispatching the messengers, Lie Fan rose from his desk. The reports still weighed heavy in his hands, but his next task awaited.

Today, an audience had been scheduled in the main hall. A handful of noble and scholarly families had dared to present formal protest regarding the first phase of the educational reforms. It was laughable, no, infuriating. Their audacity was only matched by their ignorance. Still, appearances had to be kept.

As Lie Fan stepped into the corridor, his boots echoing softly on polished stone, he was soon joined by Jia Xu, Sima Yi, Zhuge Liang, and Pang Tong. They greeted him with a bow, matching his pace.

Their presence was not mere formality, each of them was a blade in his arsenal, and today, the blades would be unsheathed. Lie Fan let out a dry chuckle as they walked. ”Imagine it,” he said, voice tinged with irony. ”Some of them actually think I’d reverse course just because a few quills signed their names in protest.”

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains

Age: 34 (201 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