Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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The sudden shift was seismic. Xu Chu and Zhang He, locked in their intricate rhythm with Lie Fan, were caught off balance. Lie Fan himself took a swift step back, his mind instantly processing the change. A flare of irritation, this was his fight, his answer to Cao Cao’s challenge, was instantly smothered by the iron discipline of a supreme commander. This was not the time for prideful duels. This was the time to win the wall.

His eyes, sweeping the scene, immediately went to the weakest point in his line, the struggling two Yellow Ghost Bodyguards. In three long strides, he was across the contested ground, his halberd a dark blur.

Cao Hong and Cao Ren, sensing a shift in pressure, had redoubled their efforts to finish the Yellow Ghost Bodyguards. Cao Hong’s spear lanced toward a Ghost’s exposed side. It never landed.

Lie Fan’s halberd hooked the spear shaft, yanking it violently aside. With the same motion, he pivoted, the butt of his weapon slamming into Cao Hong’s chest plate with a dull, resonating THUD. The general staggered back, breath exploding from his lungs.

Cao Ren shouted a warning and swung his heavy blade at Lie Fan’s head. Lie Fan didn’t even fully turn. He dropped into a crouch, the blade whistling over him, and lashed out with a leg sweep that cracked against Cao Ren’s armored shin, buckling his stance.

The dynamic had utterly reversed. Where the two Yellow Ghost Bodyguards had been cornered prey, they now became the anvil to Lie Fan’s hammer. He moved between them, his attacks not the flurry of his duel with Xu Chu and Zhang He, but short, devastating bursts of power meant to overwhelm and disable.

”Surrender,” Lie Fan said, his voice cutting through their gasps for air. He wasn’t shoutingz it was a cold, factual statement.

He blocked Cao Hong’s desperate stab, twisted the spear away, and slammed an armored fist into his helmet, dazing him. ”You are isolated. Your comrades are occupied. No one is coming for you. Lay down your arms and be taken prisoner. Your lives have value.”

Cao Ren, struggling to his feet, spat blood. ”We are of the Cao clan! We do not yield to usurpers!” he shouted, loyalty and defiance warring with the dawning realization of their hopeless position.

”Cousin!” Xiahou Dun’s enraged roar cut across the wall. He tried to disengage from Zhang Liao, but the stalwart general redoubled his attacks, his shield slamming into Xiahou Dun to keep him penned. ”Men! To the Cao generals! Surround him!”

Taishi Ci did the same to Xiahou Yuan, forcing him back with a savage grin. ”Your fight is with us,” Taishi Ci said. ”Not with ghosts.”

The order sparked a chaotic ripple. Wei soldiers, seeing their high ranking clansmen in dire straits, tried to surge forward. But the Hengyuan troops, emboldened by their emperor’s intervention and the arrival of their own champions, pushed back with equal ferocity.

The dueling ground became a seething, shouting press of bodies, a deadlock of sheer mass and momentum around the island where Lie Fan fought.

Lie Fan saw it all, the attempted rescue alongside the brewing melee. His mind, colder now than in the heat of his personal duel, saw an opportunity far greater than two captives.

Cao Hong was a capable, aggressive field commander. Cao Ren was arguably the defensive heart of the Wei army, a marshal in all but name. Their capture wouldn’t just be a tactical victory, it would be a symbolic evisceration, a blow to the very family core of Cao Cao’s resistance.

”Now!” he barked at the two Yellow Ghosts. They understood instantly. As Lie Fan feigned a massive overhead chop at Cao Ren, forcing both Cao cousins to raise their weapons in a unified block, the Yellow Ghosts moved.

Not to attack from the front, but to flank with brutal efficiency. One dropped low, sweeping Cao Hong’s legs out from under him. The other drove a shield edge into the back of Cao Ren’s knee the moment his block met Lie Fan’s halberd.

Both men crumpled. Lie Fan didn’t hesitate. He reversed his grip on his halberd and brought the weighted pommel down in two swift, precise strikes, thok, thok, to the back of their helmed heads. The sounds were sickeningly final. The defiant light in their eyes extinguished, replaced by blank unconsciousness.

”Take them,” Lie Fan ordered the two Yellow Ghosts, his voice leaving no room for question. ”Back to the encampment. Now.”

The two massive bodyguards hoisted the limp forms of the Cao generals with startling ease, turned, and began fighting their way back through the Hengyuan lines toward the ladders, a living fortress retreating with priceless prizes.

The loss was a physical shockwave through the Wei forces on the wall. Xiahou Dun let out a roar of pure anguish. Xiahou Yuan’s attacks became recklessly furious. Even Xu Huang and the now engaged Xu Chu and Zhang He felt the shift, a vital piece of their world had just been ripped away.

”FALL BACK!” Xiahou Dun’s voice was a ragged scream of tactical necessity over personal fury. ”DISENGAGE! BACK TO THE SECONDARY LINE!”

The Wei generals, though seething, were professionals. Xu Chu traded one last earth-shaking blow with Dian Wei before grunting and retreating, Zhang He disengaging from Ji Ling with a graceful, frustrated flourish.

Xiahou Dun and Xiahou Yuan gave ground reluctantly, still parrying the relentless attacks of Zhang Liao and Taishi Ci. Xu Huang gave a final, respectful nod to Huang Zhong before melting back into the ranks of his retreating soldiers.

Zhang Liao, Taishi Ci, Dian Wei, and Ji Ling instinctively moved to pursue, bloodlust and momentum urging them forward.

”HOLD!” Lie Fan’s command cracked like a whip, freezing them in their tracks. He stood, bloodied and breathing heavily, his halberd planted firmly on the stone. ”Let them go.”

Ji Ling turned, confusion on his face. ”Your Majesty! We have them on the run! We could press the advantage—”

”The advantage,” Lie Fan interrupted, his gaze sweeping the wall they now firmly held, then looking deeper into the city, where new barricades were being hastily erected, ”is here. We have taken the outer wall. We have captured two of their pillars. To chase them into prepared killing grounds in the narrow streets is to trade our victory for a slaughter.”

He wiped blood and sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. ”A deep blow has been struck. Now, we secure what we have won. Reinforce this position. Bring up the engineers to secure the gate mechanism. Tend to the wounded.”

He looked at each of his generals, the passionate Taishi Ci, the steadfast Zhang Liao, the furious Dian Wei, the cold Ji Ling, the weary but unbroken Huang Zhong. ”The siege continues. But now, it continues from inside their first wall. The noose tightens. Today is a victory.”

His words, calm and authoritative, doused the flame of reckless pursuit. They saw the wisdom. The blood soaked section of wall was theirs. The breach was secured. And in their camp, two of Cao Cao’s own kin lay as trophies and bargaining chips of immense value.

As the orders were relayed and the Hengyuan soldiers began the grim work of fortifying their new foothold, Lie Fan walked to the inner edge of the parapet. He looked down into the smoking, chaotic streets of Hongnong, then up toward the distant watchtower where he knew Cao Cao was watching. He raised his halberd, not in challenge, but in grim acknowledgment.

The message was clear, Your move, Cao Mengde.

The duel of champions was over. The slow, grinding strangulation of the city had entered a new, and for the Wei, a far more desperate phase. The God of War had reclaimed his wall, and in doing so, had stolen a piece of his rival’s soul.

In the watchtower, Cao Cao saw it all.

He saw Xu Chu forced back by Dian Wei. He saw Zhang He disengaging under Ji Ling’s pressure. And most painfully, he saw Cao Hong and Cao Ren being carried away, limp, alive, but captured.

His hands tightened behind his back.

Guo Jia exhaled slowly. ”So... he chose not to overextend,” he murmured. ”Prudent. Annoyingly prudent.”

Xun Yu’s expression was grim. ”Losing both General Cao Hong and Cao Ren is... significant.”

”Yes,” Cao Cao replied quietly. ”It is.”

There was no explosion of rage. No shouted curses. Only a deep, measured breath.

”He took what he came for,” Cao Cao continued. ”And he withdrew before the blade could turn.”

A pause.

”That,” he said, ”is why he is dangerous.”

Back at the Hengyuan command post, Sima Yi lowered his telescope at last.

”They’ve disengaged,” he said, tension easing from his shoulders. ”His Majesty chose correctly.”

Around him, Chen Deng, Xu Shu, Pang Tong, and Zang Hong released breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding.

Muchen stood very still.

He had watched it all, every clash, every retreat, every decision. His heart still hammered in his chest, but beneath the fear, something else had taken root.

Understanding.

This was command.

Not glory alone. Not fury alone. But knowing when to stop.

When Zhao Yun glanced down at him, he saw not just fear in the Crown Prince’s eyes, but something harder, sharper.

Resolve.

The battle dragged on beneath a sky that had begun to lose its morning clarity, the sun sliding westward and staining the haze above Hongnong with dull amber light.

The sun began its weary descent, casting long, distorted shadows from the broken battlements of Hongnong. The initial, frenetic energy of the assault had bled away, replaced by the grinding, exhausting reality of attrition.

From his vantage point on the newly secured but precarious section of the outer wall, Lie Fan could read the battle’s pulse with the instinct of a lifetime at war.

The momentum, that precious, fleeting tide that had carried them over the wall and allowed the capture of the Cao cousins, had finally spent itself.

The Wei defenders, stung and furious, had solidified their secondary lines in the narrow streets and inner courtyards with a desperate, cornered efficiency. Every alleyway was a potential death trap, every rooftop a nest for archers.

His soldiers, though buoyed by the day’s symbolic victory, were reaching the limits of their endurance. The fierce light in their eyes was now glazed with fatigue, their movements growing sluggish. To push further now would be to feed good men into a meat grinder for scraps of ground they could not hope to hold before nightfall.

He watched a squad of his own heavy infantry try to press forward into a market square, only to be met with a hail of crossbow bolts from hidden positions and a sudden, vicious counter charge led by a grim faced Xu Huang. They were beaten back, leaving three of their number on the cobblestones.

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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