Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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Amidst the celebration, an older sergeant, his face lined with scars and soot, stepped forward. He bowed respectfully. ”Lieutenant! We thank you! But... where is the General? And the captains? Should they not be giving these orders?” The Lieutenant’s expression hardened. This was the moment. He had to unite them, not divide them further.

”The General and the captains,” he announced, his voice carrying clearly over the din, ”have been relieved of command.” The cheers faltered, replaced by a nervous murmur. ”I have taken them into custody. They refused to see reason. They refused to retreat. They wished to continue this siege, to throw what is left of our brothers—” he gestured again to the emaciated, wounded men ”—against these walls until not a single one of us remained. They valued pride over your lives.”

For a heartbeat, silence. Then, murmurs began to ripple, first in confusion, then in outrage, not at the lieutenant, but at the revelation.

”They wanted to keep going?” one man shouted, his voice trembling with disbelief.

”After all we’ve lost?” another spat, pounding his fist into the earth.

”My brother... my brother died out there!” a young soldier cried. ”And for what? For the general’s and those captain’s stubbornness?”

The anger grew, but not toward the lieutenant. When they looked at him now, they saw not a traitor but a savior. He had done what none of them dared, what none of them could. The Lieutenant’s words confirmed their deepest, unspoken suspicions.

”I could not let that happen!” the Lieutenant shouted, his own voice filling with passion. ”I could not stand by and watch them sacrifice you all! So I acted. I took control so that I might save you! So that I might bring you home!”

The anger transformed. It was no longer a diffuse cloud of misery, it was now a directed loyalty. The man who had saved them was standing right before them. The cheers returned, louder and more fervent than before, now mixed with shouts of his name. He was no longer just a lieutenant, he was their savior.

The lieutenant lowered his head, hiding the flicker of pain in his eyes. He knew that history would call him traitor, perhaps even murderer. But to these men, to the families who would greet them alive rather than receive their ashes, he would be remembered as the one who had turned them from death’s maw.

By his orders, the men began to gather what little remained of their supplies. Horses, food rations, weapons, and armor, all dragged to the center of the camp to be sorted and redistributed for the march. The work was frantic but joyous. Men who had been too weary to rise from their blankets two days ago now moved with renewed vigor, as if life itself had been poured back into them.

Yet when the lieutenant came to inspect the gathered stock, his heart sank.

The pile of food was pitifully small, barely enough for half the men for a week. The horses were thin, many limping, some collapsing where they stood. Much of the armor was broken beyond repair, shields split, spears splintered. The siege had devoured not only lives but their very capacity to fight.

His face darkened. He knew this march home would not be easy. Still, he straightened and called out, ”Eat what rations you have now. Fill your stomachs before the journey. Once we march, we will endure hunger together. But at least we march toward home, not away from it.”

The soldiers, hungry as wolves, fell upon the meager food with grateful fervor. Some tore dried fish with their teeth, others broke hard bread in half to share with comrades. For a moment, even in scarcity, there was joy.

What the lieutenant did not realize, however, was that every cheer, every movement of supplies, every fire rekindled in the once dead camp was watched from above.

On the fortress wall, Shi Xin stood tall, his arms folded as he gazed down at the enemy encampment below. His brothers, Shi Zhi and Shi Hui, flanked him, their eyes equally sharp.

The sudden shift had not escaped them. Only yesterday, the Champa camp had been silent, desolate, like a graveyard of the living. Men slumped in despair, their fires dim, their voices absent. Now, activity thrummed like a hive.

”Something has happened,” Shi Xin murmured, his tone calm but edged with curiosity. His eyes narrowed as he studied the sight of soldiers gathering supplies in the center of camp. ”They are moving with purpose. Not the movements of men preparing for another assault... no. This is something else.”

Shi Hui, the youngest, tilted his head in confusion. ”Big brother, how can you be so sure? Could they not be preparing for another attack? Look, they are gathering weapons as well.”

Shi Xin shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. ”If it were for an attack, their faces would be grim, their steps heavy. But look closely, Shi Hui. Do you see their expressions? They are smiling. Laughing, even. Their spirits have risen, not sunk. That only happens when men hear what they most wish to hear. And for these men, there is only one thing that could bring such joy.”

”Retreat,” Shi Zhi said softly, his tone carrying both clarity and a touch of admiration for his elder brother’s perception. He glanced at Shi Hui, who still looked skeptical. ”The change in morale tells us everything. Men who wish to attack do not cheer. Men who are told they will live to see their families again, those are the ones who cheer.”

Shi Hui’s eyes widened in realization, then slowly he nodded. ”So... they are going home.”

”Exactly,” Shi Xin affirmed. His eyes gleamed with the cold sharpness of a strategist who had just glimpsed opportunity. ”And that makes this the perfect moment for us. A retreating army is vulnerable, scattered in thought and discipline. If we strike them now, we will not only shatter what remains of their force, but we may take many alive. Prisoners, who can serve us in ways more valuable than corpses.”

He turned to his brothers, his voice lowering with gravity. ”Zhou Yu himself instructed us, use this chance to swell our ranks with auxiliaries. These men, once broken of their loyalty to Champa, can be turned. They will aid us as Funan’s captives now do. They will give us knowledge, labor, and, with time, even spears against their own kin.”

Shi Hui’s brow furrowed. ”But will they not resist us, brother? These men have lost everything. Why would they fight for us?”

Shi Zhi answered before Shi Xin could. ”Because hunger and defeat are powerful teachers, little brother. A man who has lost hope for his homeland will find new hope where he can. Offer him bread and a place in the ranks, and he will march beneath another banner.”

Shi Xin nodded approvingly. ”Well said. Now, let us prepare. We strike at dawn, when they are weakest, full from their last meal, yet not yet on the march. We shall descend upon them like a hammer, but not to crush completely. No, we will trap, encircle, and take as many as possible alive. This is how we will break Champa, not merely with steel, but with their own men turned against them.”

He turned away from the wall, his voice shifting into the clear, ringing tone of a commander issuing a battle order.

”Ready the men! Light cavalry to harry their flanks and funnel them! Infantry to follow and overwhelm them! I want prisoners, not corpses! Move! Now is the time to show them that the war is not over, it has simply entered a new, and for them, a far more hopeless, phase!”

After giving out the order, the twenty thousand light cavalry under the Shi Clan Army began to mobilize at the center ground of the fortress. The sound of hooves striking stone and dirt echoed like thunder, shaking even the walls themselves.

Dust rose in the morning air, mingling with the cries of riders calling out to one another as ranks were formed. The sun had barely begun to pierce the horizon, a pale light casting long shadows across the courtyard, but the soldiers felt the fire of battle already burning in their chests.

At the forefront, mounted upon a towering stallion with a coat as dark as ink, Shi Zhi himself sat straight backed and grim, his scarred face lit with the hardened determination of a man who understood both the weight and the glory of the task before him. He would personally lead this charge, no commander’s pride, but necessity.

To strike at the retreating foe in this moment was no mere skirmish, it was the blow that might decide the war. His presence, visible and commanding at the head of twenty thousand, was a message to his men: their leader bled with them, fought with them, triumphed with them.

He raised his spear high, its polished steel tip flashing in the newborn sunlight. ”Today, brothers, we carve victory into their bones! Today we take what is ours!” His voice carried like a clarion call, and the army answered him with a roar that shook the very earth.

Meanwhile, upon the walls, Shi Hui, his eyes sharp despite his youth, watched every movement below with hawk like precision. His task was not glory but timing.

When the scouts returned, reporting that what was left of the Champa Army had begun to abandon their camp in earnest, the banners folding, the fires left to smolder unattended, he knew the moment had come. With a single, cutting gesture, he gave the order.

The gates of the fortress groaned as their heavy timbers swung outward. Light poured in, illuminating the awaiting cavalry. Shi Hui shouted for the iron bars to be lifted fully, his command carrying urgency, there could be no delay.

Shi Zhi let out a loud, thunderous shout, raising his spear once more to rouse the spirits of his men. ”Forward! For Your Majesty! For the Shi Clan! For victory!” His stallion surged, hooves striking sparks, and with that motion the tide broke free. Twenty thousand riders, a wave of living steel and horseflesh, burst forth from the fortress, pouring across the open plain like a storm descending from the heavens.

The ground trembled beneath their collective power. Banners snapped in the wind, the sigils of the Shi Clan and Hengyuan Dynasty dancing in the sunlight. From a distance, it was less an army and more a force of nature, a rolling sea of thunder.

The riders bent low over their saddles, eyes set upon the retreating foe. Behind them, Shi Xin gave the next command with the calm assurance of a master strategist. His tone was steady, but every syllable carried the gravity of inevitability. ”Release the infantry. Fifteen thousand. They will hold the field and collect what remains.”

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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