Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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But against Lie Fan’s sudden thunderous march, they were gnats before a storm. Worse yet, recent months had drained their numbers. The war against Liu Zhang in Yi Province had proven far bloodier than anticipated. The sieges of Jianmen Pass and now Zitong had drawn heavily from Cao Cao’s reserves.

From both Shangdang and Hulao Gate, 25,000 men had been siphoned away, sent to feed the meat-grinder in the southwest. Now, the armies left behind stared in horror as scouts returned breathless, reporting the approach of foes five, even six times their strength.

At Shangdang, commanders gripped maps with trembling fingers, realizing they would be swallowed whole by an army five times their number. At Hulao Gate, the fear was worse still, for the host advancing on them was 5.5 times their own. The cries of disbelief filled the barracks and halls. Veterans muttered that this was not war, it was execution.

Letters flew at once toward Luoyang, borne by galloping riders who risked life and limb to carry the dire tidings.

In Luoyang, the heart of Cao Cao’s dominion, In his ministerial office, Xun Yu, Cao Cao’s brilliant and steadfast Chancellor, broke the seal on the first dispatch. As he read, his normally composed features slackened with shock. He was a man renowned for composure, but as his eyes traced the characters, his hands froze. His chest tightened.

”Impossible...” he whispered at first, then read the numbers again. No, not impossible, it’s real. Lie Fan had struck like lightning, with a force no spy had forewarned them of.

Without hesitation, Xun Yu immediately commanded his aide to summoned his fellow strategists. ”Summon Cheng Yu, Jia Kui, Tian Feng, and Xu You,” he commanded his aide, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse. ”Immediately. The sky is falling.”

They arrived swiftly, their faces curious but darkened the instant they saw the pallor on Xun Yu’s face and the letters spread before him.

”Gentlemen,” Xun Yu said, voice clipped with urgency. ”Read.”

One by one, they scanned the words. Their expressions shifted from disbelief, to alarm, and to grim realization. When the last parchment was set down, silence weighed heavy.

Cheng Yu broke it first, his voice low. ”So. The Hengyuan Emperor has unsheathed his sword at last. Lie Fan... he has moved his entire chessboard while our eyes were fixed on Zitong.”

”It is worse than that,” Tian Feng said, his tone grim. ”He has unsheathed it and already driven it at our throat.”

Xu You muttered curses under his breath, pacing like a trapped animal. ”750,000 men! Where in Heaven’s name did he gather such force so swiftly? Did our spies sleep? Or did he weave this in shadows while we looked west?”

”The latter,” Xun Yu admitted. ”Lie Fan always plans in silence. While we bled against Liu Zhang, he sharpened his blade.”

”It is too timely,” Jia Kui added, his mind racing. ”He has waited for our forces to be fully committed, for our reserves to be earmarked for the south, and now he strikes at our heart.”

They spoke first of what was obvious. All five men agreed: the Emperor must be informed at once. Letters were penned, sealed, and sent with the fastest riders. But beyond that, the question loomed: what to do now?

Here, division cracked the room.

Jia Kui, stern and upright, voiced his stance firmly. ”We must recall our strength. Halt the campaign in Yi. To win Jianmen and Zitong at the cost of losing Shangdang and Hulao is folly. These gates are our foundation, our shield. Without them, Luoyang itself will lie exposed. We cannot gamble our heart for the sake of peripheral conquest. Recall the troops. Send what remains of the reserves at once to reinforce both fronts.”

Xun Yu nodded gravely. ”I concur. We must consolidate, fall back, and defend our core territories. To continue the siege of Zitong now is strategic suicide. To lose Hulao Gate and possibly our capital as well is to lose access to an entry way to the Central Plains.”

But Cheng Yu shook his head sharply, eyes glittering. ”No. To retreat from Yi now is to waste the blood already spilled. Zitong is near to falling. Liu Zhang is weak. If we press, we gain all of Yi. That is a granary, a fortress, a base from which to strike Hengyuan in the south and west alike. Abandoning it now is short sighted. The Emperor must not pull back his blade when it is already at the enemy’s heart.”

Tian Feng, usually dour and cautious, surprised them by siding with Cheng Yu. ”Master Cheng Yu speaks truly. Yes, Hengyuan strikes hard, but to abandon Yi is to admit weakness. It will embolden Lie Fan, and every wavering mayor in the provinces will flock to him. Better we secure Yi, then turn with renewed strength.”

Xu You, ever pragmatic, nodded. ”If we cannot hold Shangdang and Hulao, then we must be prepared for the worst. We should beg His Majesty for an edict allowing evacuation of Luoyang if the walls cannot hold. Move the court to Chang’an. It is farther west, defensible, and closer to the supplies of Guanzhong. If we lose Luoyang but preserve the court, we can fight another day.”

The debate that followed was brief but fierce, a clash of fundamental philosophies. Xun Yu and Jia Kui argued for the defense of the realm’s heart at all costs. Cheng Yu, Tian Feng, and Xu You argued for the preservation of the state’s power and the acceptance of a tactical, if devastating, retreat.

In the end, Xun Yu’s authority and the sheer weight of his argument, the unthinkable nature of abandoning Luoyang, prevailed, but not without a concession to the grim pragmatism of the others.

”We will not waste more time. Master Cheng Yu, Tian Feng, Xu You, you argue for glory at the risk of ruin. That is unacceptable. Our Emperor is already strained by illness and war. I will not send him a proposal that smacks of recklessness. We will follow the path of stability.”

He looked to Jia Kui. ”You and I are agreed. Reinforce Shangdang and Hulao at once. Send what reserves we can. And—” his eyes flickered, ”—yes, we shall request an edict granting permission to evacuate Luoyang if fate demands it, and relocate the capital to Chang’an, should the defense of Luoyang become impossible. But first, we fight to hold.”

Reluctantly, Cheng Yu and Tian Feng lowered their heads. Xu You shrugged, though relief flickered in his eyes that his evacuation proposal had at least found a foothold.

Xun Yu wasted no time. Orders were written, stamped, dispatched. Messengers sped from Luoyang like arrows loosed from taut strings, racing to Shangdang, to Hulao Gate, and toward the Emperor himself in the south.

But even as the ink dried, Xun Yu knew. Lie Fan’s blow had been timed with ruthless precision. Hengyuan’s armies were already at their gates. Reinforcements, even if sent at once, might not arrive in time.

The room lingered in silence after the orders were sent. The four men stared at the maps, where enemy banners seemed already to overshadow their own. Xun Yu’s hand rested upon the table, his knuckles pale. ”May Heaven grant us time,” he whispered.

The two messengers from Luoyang, riding lathered horses and fueled by desperation, were the first to complete their grim errands. When they staggered into the command posts at Shangdang and Hulao Gate, the relief on the faces of the garrison commanders was palpable, a physical unclenching of muscles held taut for days.

At Shangdang, the commander, a grizzled veteran named Tang Hao, snatched the scroll from the messenger’s trembling hand. His eyes, shadowed by sleepless nights, scanned the characters.

”50,000,” he breathed out, the words a prayer. ”By the heavens, 50,000.” It would bring his force to a total of 100,000 men. Still outnumbered five to one by the approaching Northern Command, but it was no longer a hopeless, suicidal stand. It was a fighting chance. A chance to hold the line, to dig in, to make the Hengyuan dogs pay for every inch of ground until Cao Cao’s main army could disengage from Zitong and race north.

A similar scene played out at Hulao Gate. The commander, Cao Hong, felt a wave of cold resolve wash over him as he read Xun Yu’s orders.

50,000 reinforcements would give him 150,000 men to defend the most formidable fortress in the land. The math was still terrifying, he would be facing over half a million enemy troops, but the sheer defensibility of Hulao Gate, combined with the fresh troops, kindled a flicker of hope. They could hold. They had to hold.

Immediately, both commanders began a frenzy of activity. Orders echoed across the battlements. Engineers were set to reinforcing weak points in the walls. Stockpiles of arrows, stones, and boiling oil were checked and redistributed.

Scouts were sent out in relentless relays to track the enemy’s precise advance. The garrisons, which had been gripped by a fatalistic dread, now stirred with a new, grim purpose. They were no longer just waiting to die; they were preparing to sell their lives as dearly as possible, to buy the one thing their empire needed most, time.

Meanwhile, the third messenger, bearing Xun Yu’s most urgent letter, addressed directly to the Emperor, rode harder than either of his peers. He was a seasoned courier of Cao Cao’s inner circle, a man used to perilous journeys, but this one tested even his endurance.

He slept only when his horse nearly collapsed beneath him, ate only when hunger threatened to rob his focus, and rode through storm and night alike.

For five days and nights he pressed on, his cloak torn by wind and rain, eyes burning with exhaustion. Each sunrise brought darker tidings, the fires of battle visible in distant hills where Shangdang and Hulao were already under siege.

By the fifth dawn, his horse stumbled for the last time at the edge of Zitong, where Cao Cao’s great encampment loomed like a city of banners. Siege engines stood in rows, their iron mouths facing the walled city that had defied him for weeks. The smell of powder and pitch hung thick in the air.

The messenger half fell from his horse, his legs trembling as he staggered toward the gate. ”Message!” he croaked out to the startled guards. ”Urgent letter... from Chancellor Xun Yu... for His Majesty!”

The guards caught him before he collapsed. One of them quickly snatched the sealed letter, eyes widening at the official sigil. ”From the Chancellor himself? Gods, bring water! Hurry! Get this to His Majesty!”

The half conscious messenger nodded weakly. ”Give it... to His Majesty... urgent... Luoyang...” He didn’t finish. His head slumped forward, and he fainted dead away from exhaustion.

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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