Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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”Gather your men,” Zhang Ren said curtly. ”We retreat in order. No chaos lest Cao Cao’s soldiers will pick us one by one.” As the commanders dispersed to relay the orders, the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, pale and tentative, like the fragile hope of a new beginning. The siege of Jianmen Pass was over.

The first rays of dawn painted Jianmen Pass in hues of gold and crimson, casting long shadows across the battered inner walls where the Han army had made their last stand at Jianmen Pass. What should have been a scene of hard won victory for the Wei forces now lay eerily silent, too silent.

Yan Yan and Zhang Ren moved through the ranks with the practiced ease of veteran commanders, their voices sharp but steady as they issued orders for the retreat. Every soldier knew his place; every unit moved with precision.

Even the boisterous Nanman warriors, who had grumbled and chafed under Han command for months, who often marched to the beat of their own drum, kept in line.

Partly out of respect for Meng Huo’s authority, partly because even they recognized the deadly consequences of disorder. A single misstep, and Cao Cao’s cavalry would descend upon them like wolves upon scattered prey.

But the Han generals weren’t content with merely slipping away.

As the last of their troops filed out of the inner walls, Yan Yan paused, casting a final glance over the fortress that had cost so much blood to hold. A grim smirk tugged at his lips.

”Leave them a parting gift,” he muttered to Zhang Ren.

The younger general hearing that nodded in agreement, and together they oversaw the sabotage Defensive mechanisms were dismantled, granaries rigged, and essential supplies destroyed. It was a parting gift meant to stall the Wei advance.

Meng Huo, watching from a distance, let out a bark of laughter. ”Is this how you Han wage war? With broken stairs and burnt rice?” He shook his head, his golden earrings glinting in the morning light. ”Pathetic.”

Zhang Ren arched a brow. ”You have a better idea?”

The Nanman king’s grin turned feral.

What followed was a masterclass in asymmetrical warfare.

Meng Huo’s tribesmen moved like shadows through the abandoned fortress, their knowledge of the land’s deadlier creatures put to brutal use.

Poisonous snakes, especially those which were as green as jade, coiled in dark corners, were carefully placed where searching hands would find them, and feet would pass by them. Scorpions, their stingers glistening, were tucked into bedding and armor racks. Other poisonous insects were also released into various rooms and corridors

And, as a final touch, then there was Ahui Nan’s pièce de résistance, a starved, fully grown tiger, that had been transported with the army for intimidation purposes, locked in a storage room with nothing but the scent of human sweat to fuel its rage.

When Zhang Ren and Yan Yan heard about the tiger, their initial reaction was disbelief.

”Where the hell were you hiding a tiger?” Zhang Ren asked, eyes wide.

Meng Huo just laughed, thumping his chest. ”We Nanman have our ways.”

Yan Yan gave a rare smirk. ”Remind me never to underestimate your people again.”

The three men clasped forearms in silent respect before turning away to lead the retreat. Behind them, the remnants of the battlefield smoldered. The Han Army marched toward Zitong, leaving a trap laden ruin for the Wei Army to inherit.

In the Wei camp, Guo Jia and Xi Zhicai stood outside Cao Cao’s command tent, staring uneasily at the seemingly still inner wall.

”Too quiet,” Xi Zhicai muttered.

Guo Jia nodded. ”Not a single banner shift, not a patrol. This silence speaks volumes.”

They entered the tent and bowed to Cao Cao, who looked up from his table, sensing their unease. ”Fengxia, Zhicai, what do you make of it?”

Guo Jia responded first. ”Your Majesty, I suspect the Han Army has already withdrawn. Likely during the night or at the break of dawn.”

Xi Zhicai added, ”And if so, it’s not a retreat born of desperation. This reeks of a tactical withdrawal. They’ve likely fallen back to Zitong. The terrain there favors defense, and they’ve had time to prepare, Your Majesty.”

Cao Cao tapped his fingers against the table, brow furrowed. A muscle twitched in Cao Cao’s jaw. He’d anticipated a bloody last stand, not this... evaporation. It reeked of Fa Zheng’s cunningness. ”So the pass is abandoned. They’ve lured us in.”

”Yes,” Guo Jia said. ”And possibly trapped it.”

Cao Cao gave a long sigh. ”Then we must tread carefully. Prepare the army to advance and take the inner wall. Rebuild it. Jianmen Pass will be our new staging ground. But remain vigilant. I want scouts ahead and the generals on standby.”

”Understood,” both strategists echoed.

Soon after, the order spread. The vanguard units were to move into the inner wall and secure it. Most expected an easy task.

But within moments of breaching the gates, chaos exploded.

At first, it was subtle, doors that creaked open revealing only empty storerooms, granaries torched from the inside, or stone steps that crumbled underfoot. Then came the real terror.

The soldiers screamed.

Men collapsed as tiny fangs sank into their legs or necks. Poisonous snakes slithered from baskets, hiding beneath beds, behind curtains, and inside armor racks. Then came the scorpions, dropping from ceiling beams onto unsuspecting shoulders. Men thrashed, screamed, collapsed, some from venom, others from sheer panic.

Other insects, some no larger than a finger, others grotesquely bloated, crawled out from shadows and stung exposed skin.

The panic spread like wildfire.

Then came the tiger.

A soldier opened a supply room, only to find a pair of glowing eyes in the darkness. The beast lunged, hunger turning it into a frenzied killer. Screams and shouts echoed through the stone corridors as the vanguard troops scrambled for safety.

The noise reached the command lines.

Guo Jia and Xi Zhicai rushed forward, alarmed. ”What’s going on?” Guo Jia shouted at a bloodied, wild eyed soldier who had fled from within.

”Snakes! Insects! A tiger! There’s a damned tiger in there!” the man cried, clutching a wounded arm.

Xi Zhicai paled. ”This... is sabotage. A trap. A last strike.”

Guo Jia clenched his fists. ”We underestimated Yan Yan and Zhang Ren. This wasn’t just tactical, it was psychological.”

”What do we do, Masters?” an officer asked, eyes wide.

Guo Jia steadied himself. ”Go call General Xu Chu and Zhang He. They can deal with the tiger. But those snakes and insects, they’re the real threat. Quarantine the wounded. Burn the infested sections.”

Within an hour, the Wei Army was forced into a fire fighting operation. Xu Chu, wielding a massive iron staff, cornered and bludgeoned the tiger with help from Zhang He, who distracted it with precise spear thrusts. The beast went down eventually, but the damage had been done.

Thousands of vanguard soldiers were either killed or incapacitated by the snakes and insects alone, while hundreds died or were heavily wounded by the tiger. The panic had shattered morale. Officers barked orders, and flames consumed room after room in an attempt to cleanse the infestation.

Cao Cao arrived shortly after, taking in the chaos with a thunderous expression. He said nothing at first, only watched as soldiers carried out the dead.

Guo Jia bowed deeply. ”Forgive us, Your Majesty. We should have anticipated—”

Cao Cao raised a hand. ”No. They were clever. Ruthless. This is war. And they have made their intentions clear.”

He turned to the map laid out on the table. His finger tapped against Zitong.

”They want to make their last stand here. Then so be it. We will give them the war they’re asking for. Prepare the army. Rest those who need it. We march within the week.”

His eyes burned with renewed resolve.

Zitong would fall. But not without a price.

Miles away, atop a ridge overlooking the retreating Han army, Meng Huo threw back his head and laughed.

”Did you hear that?” he crowed. ”That was the sound of Cao Cao’s men pissing themselves!”

Yan Yan, for once, didn’t scold him. He just smirked and adjusted his helmet.

”Zitong next,” Zhang Ren said. ”Let’s see how they like real fortifications.”

The march to Zitong was a somber yet determined affair. The Han army, though battered, moved with the quiet confidence of soldiers who had survived the crucible of war.

The veterans walked with their heads high, their armor still bearing the scars of Jianmen Pass, while the younger recruits, those who had tasted their first true battle, carried themselves with a newfound hardness in their eyes.

Yan Yan rode at the front, his grizzled face set in its usual stern expression, though those who knew him well could see the faintest glimmer of satisfaction in his gaze. Beside him, Zhang Ren kept his usual composed demeanor, though his fingers occasionally tapped against his saddle in thought.

Meng Huo, ever the wildcard, alternated between laughing with his tribesmen and casting wary glances back toward Jianmen Pass, as if expecting Cao Cao’s forces to appear on the horizon at any moment.

When the walls of Zitong finally came into view, a ripple of relief passed through the ranks. They were greeted with the thunderous roar of drums and banners raised high.

Awaiting them were 100,000 fresh troops, an army of reinforcement as promised in Fa Zheng’s letter. The newcomers stood ready, their armor gleaming and faces resolute. Some were veterans from other campaigns, but many were new conscripts, eager and still untested.

Yan Yan, Zhang Ren, and Meng Huo wasted no time. They oversaw the restructuring of command, blending their weary veterans with the fresh blood of Zitong. Defensive lines were drawn, new patrol rotations established, and watchtowers fortified.

With the army settled, the three commanders made their way to the Governor’s Castle where Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da were waiting. The reception was warm and respectful. When the three entered the main hall, they were immediately greeted with cupped hands and smiles.

”You three have done the impossible,” Fa Zheng said, his voice ringing with sincere admiration. ”Jianmen Pass was supposed to fall in a week, but you held for months.”

”That’s true,” Zhang Song added. ”The reports say you bled them for every inch of ground. That kind of resistance will make even Cao Cao hesitate.”

Yan Yan, ever stoic, waved off the compliments. ”It was our duty. And a fine opportunity to temper the new recruits. Let them taste real war. They won’t forget it.”

Zhang Ren chimed in with a nod. ”Under Liu Yao and Liu Zhang, our troops lacked real combat experience. But now, under His Majesty Emperor Hongyi’s coming banner, it’s a new era. We need hardened men, not parade soldiers.”

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty

Age: 35 (202 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 2325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 966 (+20)

VIT: 623 (+20)

AGI: 623 (+10)

INT: 667

CHR: 98

WIS: 549

WILL: 432

ATR Points: 0