Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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(A/N: Don’t forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)

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He sidestepped the first arrow, deflected the second with the thick wooden limb of his own bow, and caught the third arrow mid air with his bare, calloused hand, the friction burning his leather glove. ”Too slow, boy!” Huang Zhong roared across the distance, tossing the captured arrow aside.

He nocked his own shaft, pulling the string back with a smooth, terrifying display of back and shoulder strength. He did not fire a volley, he fired a single, devastating shot. The arrow tore through the air, completely ignoring the chaotic crosswinds generated by the fires below.

Xiahou Yuan, standing on the sloped roof, had to throw himself backward, sliding down the ceramic tiles to avoid the shot. Huang Zhong’s arrow shattered the ornate stone dragon gargoyle that had been standing right next to Xiahou Yuan’s shoulder, showering the Wei general in razor sharp fragments of stone.

Xiahou Yuan scrambled back to his feet, his smirk replaced by a look of deadly concentration. He realized he was not fighting an old man, he was fighting a peerless monster.

The duel escalated into an intense, breathtaking display of superhuman archery. For long, grueling minutes, the sky between the siege tower and the inner watchtower was crisscrossed with deadly projectiles.

Both men fired and dodged, their bodies moving with instinctive, fluid grace. They had to calculate the distance, the elevation drop, the thermal updrafts from the burning buildings, and the unpredictable wind patterns of the storm gathering above them. It required a level of absolute, unwavering concentration that shut out the screams of the dying men just yards away.

Xiahou Yuan tried to use the geometry of the roof to his advantage, popping up from different angles to loose his shots before ducking back into cover.

Huang Zhong countered by utilizing the structural beams of the Climbing Tiger, hanging from the ropes and firing upside down, or shooting through the narrowest of gaps in the wooden hoarding.

​The physical toll was immense. Drawing war bows of such heavy poundage dozens of times in succession tore at the muscle fibers of their shoulders and backs.

Sweat poured down Xiahou Yuan’s face, stinging his eyes. His breath came in ragged gasps. He drew another arrow, his arms trembling ever so slightly with the onset of fatigue. He popped up from the roof ridge, taking aim.

​But Huang Zhong was already there.

​The old general, whose stamina seemed boundless, had anticipated the rhythm. He had noticed that Xiahou Yuan favored a specific cluster of tiles for his footing when he needed to draw fully.

​As Xiahou Yuan exposed his upper body to take his shot, Huang Zhong had already released his string.

​Xiahou Yuan saw the white-fletched arrow coming, a perfectly straight line of impending death. He tried to twist his body, tried to drop his shoulder, but the fatigue in his legs betrayed him for a fraction of a second. He slipped on a loose, blood slicked tile.

​THWACK.

​The heavy, armor piercing arrowhead drove through the thick iron scales of Xiahou Yuan’s left shoulder pauldron, burying itself deep into the meat and muscle, scraping against the collarbone.

​The kinetic impact was like being kicked by a horse. Xiahou Yuan let out a strangled cry of agony, his heavy bow slipping from his numb fingers and clattering down the roof.

The force of the blow spun him around, completely ruining his balance. He tipped backward, tumbling violently down the steep slope of the tiled roof, unable to stop his momentum.

​He plummeted off the edge of the watchtower, falling toward the stone courtyard two stories below.

​Only the frantic, desperate reactions of his personal guard saved his life. A group of Wei soldiers, seeing their commander falling, lunged forward with a thick canvas awning, catching him just before he shattered his spine on the cobblestones.

They immediately swarmed him, hoisting his bleeding, unconscious form onto their shoulders and carrying him away into the deeper, safer labyrinth of the inner palace, abandoning the sniper’s roost.

​Up on his wooden perch, Huang Zhong lowered his bow. He watched the Wei soldiers carrying their defeated general away. A deep, satisfied smirk settled onto his face. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the pleasant ache of victory in his muscles, before turning his eyes back to the immediate slaughter on the wall below.

​It was exactly at this moment that Lie Fan, having finally carved out a large enough perimeter on the main battlements, took a brief moment to wipe the crimson from his eyes and assess the wider tactical situation.

​He looked southward along the walkway and his eyes narrowed. The heavy iron banded doors of the gate control room were still closed, and his elite shock troops were actually being pushed backward, their shield wall buckling under the disciplined, organized counter attacks of the Wei heavy infantry.

​Lie Fan’s gaze locked onto the two figures orchestrating the defense. He recognized the elegant, deadly spear work of Zhang He, and he recognized the booming, authoritative voice of Yu Jin keeping the Wei soldiers in perfect formation.

The combination of peerless martial skill and flawless tactical positioning had created a chokepoint that brute force alone could not easily break.

​”They are stalling the breach!” Lie Fan shouted, his voice cutting through the din of battle. He turned his head, spotting his vanguard commanders who had just finished clearing a nearby watchtower.

​”Wenyuan! Ziyi!” Lie Fan bellowed.

​Zhang Liao and Taishi Ci instantly snapped to attention, their weapons dripping with gore.

​”The gatehouse is held by Zhang He and Yu Jin!” Lie Fan pointed his halberd down the walkway. ”They are bleeding our elites and keeping the gates shut! Go! Break their line! Rip that gatehouse open from the inside!”

​”By your command, Your Majesty!” Zhang Liao roared, a terrifying, joyous light entering his eyes.

​”Consider them dead,” Taishi Ci added, his voice a low, lethal rumble.

​The two Hengyuan generals did not hesitate. They broke away from the Emperor’s perimeter, sprinting down the blood slicked stone walkway. They moved like twin torpedoes cutting through the water, shoving aside their own men to reach the front of the chokepoint.

​”Make way! Make way for the Vanguard!” Zhang Liao roared, his heavy cavalry saber held high. The Hengyuan elites, exhausted and battered, eagerly parted, allowing their champions to step to the front.

​As Zhang Liao and Taishi Ci stepped into the breach, the dynamic of the battle shifted instantly.

​Zhang He, seeing the approaching threat, recognized Zhang Liao immediately. A fierce, competitive smile graced his elegant features. He spun his spear, shaking the blood from the tip, and stepped out from behind the Wei shield wall to meet the challenge directly.

​”Zhang Wenyuan!” Zhang He called out, his voice smooth despite the chaos. ”I have heard the tales of the Wolf of Hengyuan. Let us see if your bite matches your bark!”

​”My bite will tear your throat out, Zhang Junyi!” Zhang Liao laughed, launching himself forward without any further preamble.

​The clash between Zhang Liao and Zhang He was a breathtaking display of martial artistry. It was a beautiful, deadly dance of contrasting styles. Zhang Liao fought with a manic, overwhelming aggression, his heavy saber delivering sweeping, devastating blows meant to shatter guards and sever limbs. He pressed forward relentlessly, using his momentum to crowd Zhang He.

​Zhang He, however, was a master of evasion and precision. He used the long reach of his spear to keep Zhang Liao at bay, his footwork carrying him in circles, dodging the heavy saber strikes by mere inches.

When Zhang Liao overcommitted to a heavy downward swing, Zhang He struck, his spear darting forward like a striking viper, aiming for the joints in Zhang Liao’s armor.

​Sparks flew in showers as steel rang against steel. The two generals moved so fast they were little more than blurs of iron and intent, their duel occupying the entire width of the walkway, forcing both Hengyuan and Wei soldiers to step back to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

They were fairly matched in raw skill, but Zhang Liao’s sheer, unyielding ferocity, fueled by the momentum of a conquering army, began to press Zhang He backward, inch by inch, forcing the Wei general onto the defensive.

​Meanwhile, just a few paces away, a very different kind of duel was unfolding.

​Taishi Ci, his twin hand-halberds resting easily in his grip, stepped forward to challenge Yu Jin.

​Yu Jin was a brilliant commander. He possessed a mind that could organize a retreat under fire, formulate complex supply lines, and hold a broken army together through sheer force of will.

He was a capable warrior, respected by his men, but his true strength lay in his intellect and his tactical acumen. His martial prowess, while formidable by ordinary standards, was simply not on par with the absolute monsters that Lie Fan had gathered under his banner.

​And Taishi Ci was a monster among monsters.

​”Yu Jin,” Taishi Ci said, his voice flat, devoid of the joyous battle lust that possessed Zhang Liao. ”Your formations are excellent. But a formation is only as strong as the man anchoring it.”

​Yu Jin tightened his grip on his heavy broadsword, his jaw set in a grim, determined line. He knew he was outmatched in single combat, but duty demanded he hold the line. He shouted a command, attempting to order two of his elite guards to flank Taishi Ci, trying to use numbers and tactics to bridge the gap in martial skill.

​But Taishi Ci did not allow him the time to implement a strategy.

​Taishi Ci exploded forward with terrifying, explosive speed. He didn’t just attack Yu Jin, he attacked the entire concept of the Wei formation.

As the two Wei guards stepped forward to flank him, Taishi Ci didn’t even slow down. He spun, his left halberd hooking the shield of the first guard, violently ripping it away, while his right halberd swept cleanly across the man’s exposed throat.

Without breaking his stride, he drove his knee into the chest of the second guard, shattering his ribs, and then he was upon Yu Jin.

​Yu Jin raised his broadsword, bringing it down in a desperate, two handed defensive block.

​CLANG!

​The impact was bone jarring. Taishi Ci’s twin rod hammer struck Yu Jin’s spear with the force of a falling anvil. Yu Jin’s arms buckled under the immense weight, his boots skidding backward on the stone. He realized instantly that he could not win a contest of strength. He tried to disengage, to step back into the safety of his remaining guards to reorganize the line.

​But Taishi Ci was a relentless predator. He hooked the crescent blade of his left rod hammer around the crossguard of Yu Jin’s spear, violently wrenching the weapon down and completely exposing the Wei general’s center.

With his right hand, Taishi Ci delivered a devastating, blunt force strike with the heavy iron pommel of his second halberd directly to Yu Jin’s chest plate.

​The breastplate crumpled inward. The breath was violently expelled from Yu Jin’s lungs in a bloody cough. He stumbled backward, his vision swimming, the pain in his chest agonizing.

​Seeing their commander reeling and defenseless, the morale of the Wei elite infantry shattered. The flawless formation dissolved into a chaotic, panicked mob.

​Taishi Ci stepped over a fallen body, his cold eyes fixed on the struggling Yu Jin, preparing to deliver the final, killing blow. A few feet away, Zhang He saw his comrade falling. Knowing that if Yu Jin died, the entire gatehouse defense would instantly collapse, Zhang He made a desperate, split second decision.

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty

Age: 36 (203 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 2325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 11)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 1,010 (+20)

VIT: 659 (+20)

AGI: 653 (+10)

INT: 691

CHR: 98

WIS: 569

WILL: 436

ATR Points: 0