Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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Standing upon a small rise that overlooked the battlefield, Shi Xin’s eyes traced the ruined outlines of siege ladders, the corpses strewn across the moat, and the jagged silhouettes of Vijaya’s towers against the darkening sky. He exhaled slowly, his breath misting in the cooling air, and then gave the order in a voice firm but measured. ”Sound the retreat. We do not waste our men when patience will bring us victory tomorrow.”

At once, the heavy drums of withdrawal thundered, echoing across the plain. The sound was neither panicked nor desperate, it was a steady rhythm, the disciplined heartbeat of an army that knew retreat was not defeat, but simply the pause between blows.

Like clockwork, the vast soldiers of the Shi Clan Army alongside the Champa Auxiliaries Unit began to withdraw from the walls. Siege towers were rolled back, their scorched timbers groaning as oxen strained against their harnesses.

Ladders, some slick with blood, were retrieved so they would not fall into enemy hands. Even the smallest of tools, spare bundles of arrows, and coils of rope were gathered meticulously by squads of auxiliaries. This was not a rabble. This was an army forged by order, one that treated discipline as a weapon as sharp as any blade.

As twilight deepened, Po Kandar, leader of the Champa Auxiliaries, dismounted from his horse and joined Shi Xin, Shi Zhi, and Shi Hui at the command pavilion. Dust still clung to his armor, chalk white from the stones that had burst upon the walls during the day’s bombardment. His face was smeared with sweat and grime, but his eyes burned with an intensity that no exhaustion could dim.

Shi Xin regarded him keenly, folding his arms across his chest. ”Po Kandar. You and your men spoke loudly today. I would know, what effect do you think your words had on those behind the walls? Their faces were plain enough from where I stood, but you have lived as one of them. You would read their hearts better than I.”

Po Kandar wasted no time, his tone edged with certainty. ”I have seen them shaken to their core, General. Their eyes... I saw fear, yes, but more than fear. Doubt. A soldier who fears will still raise his shield if his captain commands it. But a soldier who doubts the cause he fights for, his hand will falter at the moment of truth. Their will to fight has been pierced, General. Already I would say half of them are wondering why they remain on those walls at all.”

Shi Xin nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was not a man given to boasting, but satisfaction glimmered in his gaze.

”Then you and your men have done great work. Each word you shouted today struck deeper than any arrow. You have loosened the stones in their foundation. Tomorrow or the next day, that foundation will crack, and the walls will open themselves to us. Perhaps we will not even need to batter them further. Perhaps they will surrender, and we will march through their gates as though they were opened in welcome.”

He then turned his gaze fully to Po Kandar. ”What of their command? Did you see any sign of this General Darsaka? Or the king himself?”

Po Kandar shook his head, a look of profound disgust flashing across his features. ”Nothing. Not a glimpse. And believe me, the king... Rudravarman IV... is a man you cannot miss. He is a mountain of a man, a human pig grown fat on the suffering of his people. The fact that he was not on the walls, that he did not show his face even once to rally his troops... it tells you everything. They are in their palaces, believing their own divine fiction, while their city burns.”

At this time Shi Hui, leaning on his spear, gave a short, bitter laugh. ”It would almost be merciful. To think that a kingdom could be toppled not just by steel, but by the weight of its own rotting throne. I cannot imagine living under such a king, one who hides in his chambers, gorging on food and women, while his people bleed on the walls. Even the fallen dynasty toppled by our emperor was not so decadent. This is a different kind of sickness.”

At this, Po Kandar’s lips curved into a grim smile. ”You need not imagine, General Shi Hui. I have lived it. So have these men who fight beside me. We have known his cruelty, his indifference, his greed. That is why so many of my countrymen now fight willingly at your side. This war, for us, is not conquest. It is liberation. I assure you,, this is an easily winnable war, one that will end quickly, and one that will be remembered not as the fall of Champa, but as the death of a tyrant.”

Shi Xin inclined his head at that, his eyes narrowing as if to weigh the truth in Kandar’s conviction. ”Then tomorrow will test the strength of those words. Rest your men. Let them eat, let them sleep. They have earned it.”

As the campfires of the Shi Clan army flared to life across the field, bathing the plain in a sea of flickering orange light, the invaders rested with the calm assurance of men who believed victory was not far away.

Inside Vijaya, the retreat of the enemy was met not with cheers of victory, but with a profound, exhausted silence. The defenders slumped against the battlements, their bodies aching, their minds reeling. The city they were supposed to be protecting now felt like a gilded cage. The words of the Champa Auxiliaries echoed in their minds, louder and more persistent than the memory of the siege engines.

In the command pavilion, the air was still thick with the cloying scent of perfume and wine. Darsaka at last emerged from the perfumed shadows where he had spent the day indulging himself in the company of women that he have forced to serve him.

His face was flushed, his stride unsteady, but his voice rang with a hollow bravado as he bellowed to his guards. ”Take them back,” he said. ”Tell their families that General Darsaka is... very satisfied with their service.” He let out a low, lewd laugh that his guards echoed uneasily.

The women, pale and broken, were led away quickly, their eyes fixed on the ground as though ashamed even to be seen. Darsaka, meanwhile, threw back his head in a lewd laugh that rang like the braying of a beast.

When at last his lieutenant approached, the man’s hands trembled as he clutched the scroll bearing the day’s reports. Bowing low, he delivered his words carefully, as though fearing the very sound of them might ignite the general’s fury.

”Report,” Darsaka said, yawning and stretching as if he had just woken from a pleasant nap.

”General,” the lieutenant began, his voice unsteady. ”The casualties from today... they are... substantial. Many of them have light and medium wounds, but the numbers are high. We lost a full tenth of our effective force in a single day. But... but the bigger problem, sir, is morale.”

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. ”The men on the walls... they saw the traitors. They heard what they were shouting. About the king... about how he doesn’t care... about how we are dying for nothing. The words... they are spreading through the ranks like a plague.”

The words hung heavy in the perfumed air. Darsaka’s face, which had been lax with post coital contentment, hardened.

He snorted, a sound of pure derision. ”Morale? Words? You let the whimpering of a few turncoat dogs affect the mighty soldiers of Champa? The royal guards are the finest in the land! They should be inspired to greater fury! To kill more traitors!”

He waved a dismissive hand, as if swatting a fly. ”Do not worry about numbers. Tomorrow, the real strength of Vijaya will show itself. The common people, the new Divine Guard, will join the defense. They will replace every man lost today. They will be a tide of flesh that washes our enemies away.”

He yawned then, as if even the thought of death and blood bored him, and turned away with a languid stretch. ”I am weary. I will sleep now. You, lieutenant, will put these reports in order and prepare them for the king. Tomorrow I shall present them to His Divine Majesty myself.”

With that, Darsaka turned and strode away, leaving the lieutenant standing alone in the pavilion, surrounded by the detritus of the general’s debauchery.

The lieutenant looked out at the darkening city, where the sounds of mourning were now beginning to rise, mingling with the crackle of the fires started by the siege.

He thought of the determined faces of the Champa Auxiliaries, the hollow eyes of the conscripted civilians, and the utter absence of their king and commanding general.

The words that was shouted by the so called traitors Darsaka said, no longer felt like an enemy propaganda. They felt like the last, painful truth of a dying kingdom. And he knew, with a cold certainty that settled in his gut, that Darsaka’s ”tide of flesh” would not save them. It would only drown them all faster.

The night pressed in, heavy and uncertain. Tomorrow, the siege would begin anew.

Meanwhile, to the far northeast in Xiapi, the heart of the Hengyuan Dynasty’s new order, the capital stirred with a nervous energy unlike any it had known for months.

The air was crisp with the turn of autumn, the city’s great avenues still bustling with traders, scholars, and soldiers returning from distant campaigns, yet beneath that surface hum there was something taut, expectant, like the pause before a storm broke.

Lie Fan had given out the order in silence and in secrecy only days before. Three vast arms of his military machine, the Central Command, the Northern Command, and the Western Command, were to begin their march toward Shangdang and Hulao Gate. It was not a mere maneuver, not a border reinforcement, but a true mobilization, a campaign that would shake the balance of the realm.

Within the palace, however, shock reigned. For many of the middle and lower ranking court officials, the announcement of this triple mobilization had struck like a thunderclap.

There had been no long debates, no open consultations in the court. The orders had simply been carried out, as though the will of the Emperor were the will of heaven itself. To them, it was sudden, too sudden, and carried with it a weight that unsettled the fragile balance of power between crown and ministers.

And so, the very next day, the audience hall of Xiapi filled with voices. The air buzzed with discontent, courtiers bowing yet raising their protests with barely concealed urgency. Their robes swished as they pressed forward, speaking in respectful but insistent tones, their words rising until they clashed against one another like sparring blades.

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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