Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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Xun Yu turned his gaze toward the window, where the faint outline of Hulao’s distant mountains was barely visible through the haze. ”When Shangdang fell, it was not just a city we lost. It was our signal fire, the last beacon tying the north to the heartland. Without it... we are blind.”

He paused, his eyes narrowing. ”But perhaps we are not yet beaten. Tell the men to hold their resolve. I will write to His Majesty myself.”

On the other hand, by midday, the word of Shangdang’s fall reached Hulao Gate.

The fortress, built between sheer cliffs and flanked by steep ravines, shook under the thunder of siege weapons. From the ramparts, smoke curled into the air, mingling with the roar of war drums and the screams of battle.

In the command tower, Wu Ze, commander of the gate, gripped the parapet tightly as another round of fireballs smashed into the outer wall. His face was streaked with soot and sweat, his armor dented and cracked from long days of siege.

”General!” cried one of his aides, running breathlessly up the stairs. ”Urgent report from Luoyang, Shangdang has fallen!”

Wu Ze froze when he heard the news. ”...Say that again.”

”Shangdang, sir. It fell last night. The Hengyuan army under Huang Zhong has taken it.”

The general’s expression hardened into despair. His mind raced, if Shangdang was gone, then the enemy would soon pour south through the passes. He now stood as the last wall between Luoyang and the Hengyuan advance.

He turned toward his officers. ”Signal all units, double the watch on the eastern and northern approaches. The enemy will know by now. They will press us harder.”

Even as he spoke, the horns of the Hengyuan army blared from beyond the valley.

On the opposite cliffs, Sima Yi stood beside the siege platform, the wind tugging at his robes as he gazed toward the battered walls of Hulao. His expression, as ever, was calm, but a faint smile played on his lips as a scout knelt before him, reporting the latest news.

”So it is true,” Sima Yi said quietly. ”Shangdang has fallen.”

Zhang Liao stood beside him, his massive halberd resting against his shoulder. ”That means Luoyang’s northern defenses are exposed. Wu Ze will fight harder, but his morale will falter. He knows now that no aid can come from the north.”

Taishi Ci, ever the soldier, nodded. ”Then we strike while the iron is hot.”

Zang Hong, his voice carrying the authority of a young seasoned general, agreed. ”Indeed. If we keep pressure through the night, the defenders will not last. I suggest we unleash the trebuchets without pause. Fire every stone we have. Let the Hwachas and Bee Nests sweep the ramparts. If they retreat from the outer wall, we move in before dawn.”

Sima Yi’s eyes glinted with cold intelligence. ”Good. And I will add this, order the engineers to prepare the tunnel teams again. Let the enemy think we attack from the front while our miners weaken their gate foundations. The moment they waver, we strike from both above and below.”

Taishi Ci frowned slightly. ”Such tactics demand precision. If the timing fails—”

”It will not,” Sima Yi interrupted smoothly. ”I will personally oversee it. Victory here will open the road to Luoyang. Cao Cao & the Wei’s capital will fall within the month if we succeed.”

Zhang Liao gave a rare smile. ”Then let us make it so.”

On the frontline, the clash of blades and the roar of fire drowned out all other sound.

Guan Yu and Zhang Fei led the assault personally, two titans of war carving a path through the chaos. Guan Yu’s blade, the Green Dragon Crescent Moon, gleamed with terrible grace, each swing cutting down men as though fate itself guided his hand.

Zhang Fei, wild and unstoppable, roared his defiance from atop the ladders, smashing through defenders with sheer strength. ”Come on, you dogs of Wei! I’ll tear down your walls myself!”

The Wei archers tried to concentrate fire on him, but Zhao Yun appeared beside him, his silver spear flashing in the sunlight as he struck arrow after arrow from the air before driving forward, slaying three men in a single charge.

”Brother Zhang Fei,” Zhao Yun called amid the din, ”save your breath, there’ll be plenty more to kill once we’re inside!”

Zhang Fei bellowed with laughter, even as he cleaved another soldier from shoulder to waist. ”Ha! Spoken like a man after my own heart!”

Below them, the ranks of Hengyuan soldiers surged forward, urged on by the Chao brothers, Ji Ling, Fan Chou, Xu Rong, Fang Yue, Cheng Lian, Zang Ba, and many more generals. The coordinated rhythm of their advance, ladders raised, shields interlocked, fire lances flaring, created a relentless tide that even the mighty Hulao walls struggled to withstand.

Everywhere, the weapons of the new age screamed, the Hwachas spat volleys of flaming arrows, the Bee Nests showered bolts that turned the battlements into slaughterhouses, and the mighty trebuchets hurled stones the size of oxen, crushing towers and parapets.

From the command post, Sima Yi watched it all unfold with an unblinking gaze. ”The time approaches,” he murmured. ”Once the western wall cracks, Wu Ze will have no choice but to pull his reserves inward. Then we strike the eastern gate directly.”

Zang Hong nodded, shouting orders to the artillery captains. ”All units, maintain fire! Do not let them breathe! The Hengyuan’s Imperial Banner must rise over Hulao Gate before dawn!”

Inside the fortress, chaos reigned.

The defenders were exhausted, their once disciplined formations reduced to frantic pockets of resistance. Wu Ze moved from wall to wall, shouting encouragement, blood streaking his armor. ”Hold your ground! Luoyang stands behind us! If we fall, the capital falls with us!”

His men roared in reply, but their voices carried the hoarse desperation of the doomed.

Night fell again, and with it came the thunder of renewed assault. The Hengyuan forces lit the fields with torches and siege fires, their silhouettes flickering like phantoms in the smoke.

Sima Yi, Zhang Liao, and Taishi Ci stood together on the ridge, the flickering light dancing across their faces.

”The time has come,” Sima Yi said. ”Signal the miners.”

A low rumble echoed beneath the earth, moments later, a section of Hulao’s gatehouse shuddered, cracks snaking through the stone. Wu Ze turned sharply, eyes wide, as the realization struck him. ”They’ve tunneled beneath us!”

Before he could issue a command, a thunderous explosion rocked the base of the wall, the Hengyuan engineers had ignited barrels of gun powder packed beneath the gate foundations.

The wall split open with a huge roar of explosion, and into that breach surged Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, leading their vanguard with battle cries that seemed to shake the heavens themselves.

”Forward!” Guan Yu’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. ”For the Emperor of Hengyuan! For peace and unity!”

The Wei defenders broke. Some threw down their weapons, others fought in vain, swallowed by the wave of steel that poured through the shattered gate.

The world dissolved into a screaming, fiery chaos. The thunderous explosion that shattered Hulao Gate’s main entrance wasn’t just a sound; it was a physical force that buckled stone and shattered the last vestiges of Wei defender morale. Through the billowing dust and smoke, the silhouettes of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei appeared like demons emerging from the underworld, their war cries a promise of annihilation.

For General Wu Ze, standing amidst the pandemonium, it was the moment every commander dreads—the instant a battle plan disintegrates and survival becomes the only strategy. The sight of his main gate, a symbol of impregnable strength for generations, now a gaping, smoking maw, sent a jolt of pure, cold dread through his veins. He saw the panic in his soldiers’ eyes, the way their formations wavered, on the brink of a rout that would see them slaughtered to the last man.

But Wu Ze was a veteran, tempered in the fires of countless campaigns. Despair was a luxury he could not afford. His mind, though reeling, clawed for a solution. The outer wall was lost. The gate was gone. But Hulao Gate was not just a wall; it was a complex, a series of layered defenses. The inner fortress, a towering citadel of stone at the heart of the complex, remained.

”Sound the retreat!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the din with a forced authority that belied his own terror. ”All units! Fall back to the inner fortress! Archers, cover the withdrawal! You there!” he grabbed a nearby captain, his grip like iron. ”Take every man you can and empty the granary! Every sack of grain, every barrel of water, goes into the inner fortress! NOW!”

His officers, hearing the familiar strength in his voice, rallied themselves. One by one, they took up his orders and shouted them down the lines.

”Withdraw! Withdraw to the inner fortress! Form a rearguard at the central causeway!”

”Move the rations first! Leave nothing for the enemy!”

And though the battlefield was still drenched in terror, a sliver of discipline returned. The Wei soldiers began to regroup, battered, bloodied, but not entirely broken. The clang of swords and the thunder of boots filled the inner courtyard as the soldiers carried sacks of grain, crates of arrows, and bundles of armor toward the second line of defense.

Wu Ze’s aides clustered around him, trying to shield him from the rain of arrows. One of them cried, ”General, the Hengyuan army is pouring in from the west and south breaches! We must hurry!”

”I know,” Wu Ze said grimly. ”Tell the men on the outer wall to hold for as long as they can. Buy time for the transport units. No man leaves his post until the last wagon is through!”

Even as he gave the order, his heart sank. He knew what he was asking, it was a death sentence for those men. But if they failed to secure the supplies, the fortress would fall within days, even without another attack.

Down below, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei’s vanguard continued their furious advance. The two brothers of war cut through the defenders with unrelenting momentum. Blood and smoke clung to them like twin mantles of flame and steel.

Guan Yu’s movements were fluid, graceful even in slaughter, his crescent blade carving through armor as if it were silk. ”Do not let them regroup!” he commanded, his deep voice carrying over the roar of the battlefield. ”Press them! Every step they take back is a step closer to our victory!”

Zhang Fei was the opposite, raw chaos made flesh. He bellowed curses and challenges, smashing through lines with brute force. ”Run, cowards! There’s no fortress thick enough to hide you from Zhang Fei’s wrath!”

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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