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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Stepping out of the Serenity Inn, accompanied by his Yellow Ghost Bodyguard, Zhang Mancheng, Lie Fan breathed in the crisp morning air. The smell of burning wood still lingered, a grim reminder of yesterday’s violence.

He marched directly through the awakening streets toward the massive, multi story building they had commandeered as the central command post. The city was a hive of terrifyingly quiet, disciplined activity. The Hengyuan soldiers were already in formation, their armor gleaming in the early light, their eyes fixed on the towering grey walls of the Wei inner fortress that loomed over the city center.

When Lie Fan ascended the stairs and stepped out onto the grand, expansive balcony of the command post, his entire brain trust was already present. Sima Yi, Fa Zheng, Pang Tong, Chen Deng, and the others were gathered around the railing, holding telescopes and pointing down at the streets below.

​”Your Majesty!” the advisors chorused, immediately bowing as the Emperor’s armored boots rang out on the balcony tiles.

​”Rise,” Lie Fan commanded, stepping up to the railing and looking down.

​The sight was breathtaking in its sheer, mechanical lethality. Overnight, the Hengyuan siege engineers had performed a logistical miracle.

Utilizing the wide, paved avenues of the outer city, they had dragged the massive siege engines through the shattered gates and positioned them in a terrifying, concentrated semicircle directly facing the towering gates of the inner fortress.

​Dozens of Cannons were lined up wheel to wheel, their bronze muzzles elevated, aiming directly at the reinforced iron hinges and the thick masonry of the Wei redoubt.

Behind them, row upon row of Hwachas were primed and angled to rain fire over the parapets. Further back, situated in the city squares, the massive trebuchets were already loaded with heavy stone boulders, their throwing arms groaning under the tension.

​”The artillery is in position, Your Majesty,” Sima Yi reported, his eyes gleaming with dark anticipation. ”The firing angles have been calibrated to minimize collateral damage to the inner palace structures, while maximizing absolute devastation upon the defensive battlements and the gatehouse. We are merely awaiting your word.”

​Lie Fan rested his hands on the stone railing of the balcony, looking at the silent, imposing walls of the enemy. He could almost feel the terror radiating from the Wei soldiers trapped inside. He knew Cao Pi was in there, a boy wearing his father’s oversized armor, trying to command men who knew they were already dead.

​”Continue the final preparations,” Lie Fan said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. ”Prime the fuses. Ensure the infantry blocks are clear of the backblast zones. Soon... very soon, I will let out the order for the heavens to fall upon them.”

​The advisors scrambled to relay the final adjustments. Down in the streets, the artillery crews stood with burning slow matches, their eyes fixed on the balcony, waiting for the signal that would end an era.

​The sun crested the eastern mountains, bathing the city of Chang’An in a stark, unforgiving light. The shadows of the cannons stretched long and black across the cobblestones.

​Lie Fan took a deep, slow breath. This was it. The culmination of decades of struggle, of endless campaigns, of millions of lives lost in the chaotic churn of the fractured Han dynasty. It all came down to this final cage of stone.

​Lie Fan raised his right hand high into the morning air.

​The absolute silence that had settled over the city was suffocating. Hundreds of thousands of men held their breath.

​Lie Fan dropped his hand.

​”FIRE!” Sima Yi roared from the balcony, waving the red command flag.

​The world simply erupted.

​The synchronized discharge of dozens of Black Dragon Cannons at such close, urban range was an acoustic cataclysm. The sound did not just deafen, it hit the chest like a physical blow, a concussive shockwave that shattered the remaining glass windows in the surrounding buildings and sent a visible ripple of displaced air across the avenues.

Thick, blinding clouds of white gunpowder smoke instantly obscured the streets, illuminated only by the furious, rapid-fire flashes of the Hwachas igniting.

​Thousands of screeching rocket arrows tore into the sky, creating a terrifying, high pitched wail that sounded like the screams of the damned, plunging down over the high walls of the inner fortress to detonate among the tightly packed Wei defenders.

Above the smoke, the massive trebuchet boulders arced gracefully through the air, crashing down with sickening, earth shaking thuds against the parapets, crushing stone, timber, and bone with equal indifference.

​For the Wei soldiers trapped on the inner fortress walls, it was a descent back into the deepest circle of hell. The sheer volume of fire was incomprehensible. The heavy iron reinforced gates groaned and buckled under the direct, punishing kinetic strikes of the cannonballs.

Shrapnel from the Hwachas tore through their formations, turning the narrow walkways into slaughterhouses. They could not shoot back, to even raise their heads above the parapets meant instant death from the blistering rain of steel and fire.

​Throughout the occupied outer city, the civilian populace of Chang’An huddled deeper into their cellars, covering their ears and weeping in sheer terror. The sounds were much closer now, echoing off the buildings, amplifying the thunderous roars until it felt as though the very earth was being torn apart.

​From his vantage point on the balcony, Lie Fan watched the destruction with a cold, unwavering stare. The smoke occasionally parted to reveal the horrific damage being inflicted upon the Wei stronghold. Huge chunks of masonry were being blown away. The defensive hoardings were catching fire.

​The bombardment continued without a single moment of respite. For a full, agonizing hour, the Hengyuan artillery pounded the inner fortress, systematically dismantling the structural integrity of the gates and psychologically breaking the surviving Wei defenders.

​Finally, as the eastern inner gate began to visibly sag on its shattered hinges, Lie Fan raised his hand once more.

​”Cease fire!” he commanded.

​Sima Yi signaled the drums. The deafening roar of the cannons abruptly stopped, leaving a ringing, eerie silence in its wake, broken only by the crackle of burning timber and the faint, distant screams of the wounded.

​The smoke began to clear, revealing the shattered, ruined facade of the Wei inner fortress. The gates were broken, the walls were crumbling, and the pathway to the imperial palace was open.

​Lie Fan turned to his advisors and the relay runners waiting behind him.

​”Sound the advance,” Lie Fan ordered, his voice echoing in the sudden quiet. ”Tell Zhang Liao, Taishi Ci, Dian Wei, and the others to lead the charge. They are to breach the inner sanctum and capture the palace.”

​Sima Yi looked slightly surprised. ”Your Majesty? You will not be leading the vanguard personally, as you did on the outer walls?”

​Lie Fan looked down at his heavenly halberd, then back out at the burning fortress. He smiled a small, deeply contented smile.

​”No, Zhongda,” Lie Fan said softly, leaning his hands on the balcony railing. ”I am the Emperor. My place is here, overseeing the final victory of my empire from the high ground. I have shed enough blood to secure this throne. Let the generals win their glory today. I will watch Cao Pi’s dynasty fall from right here.”

​The war drums beat a new, rapid cadence. Below, the massive, rested infantry blocks of the Hengyuan army let out a deafening roar that shook the heavens.

With Zhang Liao and the vanguard commanders at their head, the black tide surged forward, charging through the smoke and over the rubble, pouring into the breached inner fortress to deliver the final, killing blow to the Wei Dynasty.

​As the Hengyuan war machine lurched forward, an awe inspiring, terrifying mass of black iron and unsheathed steel, the atmosphere upon the battlements of the Wei inner fortress was one of suffocating, apocalyptic dread.

The defenders had just survived an hour of the most intense, earth shattering bombardment the ancient world had ever witnessed. Their ears were bleeding, their lungs were choked with pulverized stone and white gunpowder smoke, and their minds were frayed to the breaking point.

​Standing within the partially ruined central command post atop the main gatehouse, Xiahou Dun watched the approaching nightmare. Through the swirling dust, he could see the colossal silhouettes of the Climbing Tigers rolling inexorably forward, their massive wooden wheels crushing the debris of the outer city.

He saw the shimmering, endless sea of Hengyuan infantry surging behind the siege engines, their battle cries blending into a singular, continuous roar of impending doom.

​Xiahou Dun turned away from the parapet, his singular eye locking onto Cao Pi. The young acting Emperor stood rigid, his hands gripping the hilt of a ceremonial sword, his face pale as the moon beneath the soot.

Surrounding the prince were the brilliant but physically frail architects of the Wei state, Xun Yu, Guo Jia, Cheng Yu, Xi Zhicai, Tian Feng, Jia Kui, and Xu You. They were men of intellect, not men of the sword, and the violent reality of the front line was rapidly overwhelming their domain.

​”Your Highness,” Xiahou Dun barked, his voice a harsh, grating rasp that cut through the panic in the room. He stepped forward, grabbing Cao Pi by the heavy iron scales of his shoulder pauldron. ”This wall is no longer a command post. In five minutes, it will be a slaughterhouse. If you die here, the dynasty dies with you.”

​Cao Pi’s jaw tightened. ”I cannot abandon the men, Uncle. I swore I would stand with them.”

​”And you will stand with them by remaining alive to lead them!” Xiahou Dun roared, shaking the young prince slightly to break him out of his shock. ”A dead prince issues no orders! You and the masters of the council must retreat immediately. Fall back to the Great Hall of the Imperial Palace. Establish a secure perimeter there. Coordinate the reserves and prepare for the ultimate fallback if this wall cracks. Go! Now!”

​Xun Yu stepped forward, placing a gentle but firm hand on Cao Pi’s arm. ”The Grand Marshal speaks the truth, Your Highness. Our presence here only divides their attention. We must govern the survival of the state from a secure location.”

​Recognizing the brutal logic, Cao Pi finally nodded, his chest heaving. ”Hold the line, Lord Marshal. We are relying on you.”

​”I will hold it until my blood runs dry,” Xiahou Dun promised grimly.

​With the Royal Guards forming a tight, protective wedge around them, Cao Pi and the seven great advisors hurried down the rear stone staircases of the gatehouse, their silk robes dragging through the ash and blood, retreating deeper into the sprawling, labyrinthine complex of the imperial palace, leaving the brutal, mechanical reality of war to the generals.

​As the heavy doors to the lower courtyard slammed shut behind the retreating command staff, a resounding, earth shaking CRASH vibrated through the very foundations of the inner wall.

​The first of the Climbing Tigers had struck the masonry.

​The massive, iron-reinforced wooden drawbridges of the siege towers dropped forward with sickening force, their spiked steel teeth biting deep into the stone parapets of the Wei defenses.

The bridges slammed down directly upon the screaming ranks of the Wei spearmen who had been unlucky enough to be positioned at the impact zones, crushing them instantly beneath tons of timber.

​Before the dust of the impact could even begin to settle, the vanguard of Hengyuan poured out from the shadowed maws of the siege towers like a torrent of vengeful demons.

Leading the charge on the central bridge was Dian Wei. The monstrous warrior did not bother with the protection of a shield. He roared, a sound that vibrated in the chests of the men facing him, and hurled himself directly into the thickest concentration of Wei defenders.

Wielding his twin, impossibly heavy iron halberds, Dian Wei became a localized hurricane of blunt force trauma. He swung his weapons in massive, horizontal arcs, physically smashing through the raised wooden shields of the Wei infantry.

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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