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 was not a warrior, his hands were Callused from writing poetry and gripping calligraphy brushes, not from the brutal, bone jarring impact of the battlefield. Yet, as he stared down the monsters who had broken his father’s empire, a sudden, desperate fire ignited in his chest. He would not die cowering under a table.

Seeing their young prince draw his steel, the great intellectual pillars of Wei discarded the last vestiges of their courtly dignity. They were scholars, strategists, and administrators, men whose physical strength was negligible, but their loyalty to the clan that had elevated them was absolute.

​Xun Yu, his immaculate robes now stained with dust, stepped directly in front of Cao Pi, spreading his arms wide in a futile, heartbreaking gesture of protection. Guo Jia, on the other hand, moved to the prince’s right flank, drawing a small, ornate dagger from his sleeve, a pathetic weapon against the heavily armored behemoths before them, but drawn nonetheless.

Cheng Yu, Xi Zhicai, Tian Feng, Jia Kui, and even the trembling Xu You huddled tightly around Cao Pi, forming a desperate human shield of silk and frail bones.

​Zhang Liao stepped forward, his heavy cavalry saber resting casually against his shoulder. His face was streaked with soot and blood, but his eyes held no immediate malice. He looked at the trembling circle of scholars trying to protect a boy, and a flicker of professional respect crossed his features.

​”Put away the steel, Your Highness,” Zhang Liao said, his voice a low, resonant baritone that easily carried across the vast room. ”The outer walls are gone. The inner fortress is breached. Your army bleeds out in the courtyards. There is no shame left in this defeat. The Heavens have clearly chosen their victor.”

​Zhang Liao lowered his saber, pointing its bloody tip toward the ground in a gesture of parley. ”I speak with the absolute authority of the Emperor of Hengyuan. Surrender now. Lay down your weapons, and order your remaining guards to stand down. If you do this, you have His Majesty’s word that no harm shall come to you. You, and the great minds shielding you, will be spared. You will be treated with the utmost dignity as noble prisoners of war.”

​Zhang Liao paused, letting the silence hang for a moment to let the offer sink in. He locked eyes with the young prince. ”Do not throw your life away for a shattered crown. Look to your own kin. Prince Cao Ang, the mighty Xu Chu, General Cao Ren, General Cao Hong, Li Dian, and Yue Jin... they all fought with the ferocity of tigers, yet they recognized when the tide had irrevocably turned. They are currently alive, treated with honor and respect in our camps. Surrender, Cao Pi, and join your brother.”

​The names fell upon the room like physical blows. The confirmation that the greatest heroes of Wei were sitting in Hengyuan chains was a bitter, agonizing pill to swallow. Xun Yu looked back at Cao Pi, his eyes silently begging the young man to take the offer. It was the only logical path left.

​But Cao Pi’s grip on his sword only tightened. The mention of his elder brother, the golden child, the perfect heir who was now a captive, did not bring comfort. It brought a surge of wounded pride and desperate defiance.

​Cao Pi stepped out from behind Xun Yu’s protective arm, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with a manic, terrified courage.

​”I am a man of Clan Cao!” Cao Pi shouted, his voice cracking slightly before finding its angry, resonant center. ”The blood of Cao Mengde flows in my veins! We are the conquerors of the north, the tamers of chaos! I will not bow my head to a usurper! I will not surrender to Lie Fan, nor to his hunting dogs!”

​He raised his sword, pointing the trembling tip directly at Zhang Liao’s face. ”If you want this palace, you will have to step over my corpse to take it! You will either incapacitate me, or you will kill me if you wish to drag my body to your Emperor! But I will never, ever kneel!”

​Dian Wei let out a low, guttural growl, his massive hands tightening around the hafts of his iron halberds. Taishi Ci shifted his stance, his cold eyes calculating the quickest, least lethal way to disarm the prince. Guan Yu merely stroked his long beard, a look of profound pity crossing his majestic face.

​Zhang Liao sighed, a sound of genuine regret. He raised his saber once more. ”Then you leave us no choice, little prince. Secure them!”

​But before Zhang Liao could take a single step forward, before Dian Wei could unleash his monstrous strength upon the frail scholars, the very foundations of the antechamber behind them seemed to explode.

​A blood curdling, terrifying roar of absolute, suicidal fury echoed from the corridor outside the Great Hall.

​”DIE, HENGYUAN DOGS!”

​The densely packed ranks of the Hengyuan elite infantry standing in the doorway were suddenly and violently thrown forward, their shield wall buckling from an immense, unexpected impact from the rear.

​Through the chaos of falling bodies and shattering armor, a terrifying apparition carved his way into the light of the Great Hall. It was Xiahou Dun. The Grand Marshal of Wei looked like a demon clawing its way out of the underworld. His armor was a ruined, shredded mess of iron and leather, entirely coated in gore. His single eye blazed with a terrifying, absolute madness.

​And he was not alone.

​Following in his bloody wake, their weapons rising and falling with desperate, exhausted perfection, were Xu Huang and Zhang He. They had not fled into the night. They had rallied the absolute last remnants of the Wei elite heavy infantry, the most fanatically loyal veterans of Cao Cao’s inner guard, and launched a suicidal rear guard assault directly into the backs of the Hengyuan vanguard.

​”For the Emperor! For Wei!” Xu Huang roared, his great axe cleaving a Hengyuan soldier cleanly in half, the sheer momentum of the strike clearing a wide path through the doorway.

​Zhang He, moving with a desperate, frantic elegance, darted through the gap, his spear flashing like lightning, piercing throats and finding the unarmored joints of the Hengyuan elites.

​The sudden, vicious attack from behind instantly shattered the Hengyuan formation in the antechamber. Zhang Liao, Dian Wei, Taishi Ci, and Guan Yu were forced to violently pivot, their attention entirely ripped away from the trembling prince and his advisors.

​”Ambush in the rear!” Zhang Liao shouted, bringing his saber up to parry a desperate lunge from a Wei guardsman.

​”They don’t know when to die!” Dian Wei bellowed, his annoyance translating into a brutal, sweeping strike of his iron halberds that sent three Wei soldiers flying backward into the stone pillars.

​The Great Hall erupted into a scene of absolute, localized apocalypse. The clashing of steel was deafening, amplified by the high, vaulted ceilings.

​In the fraction of a second that the Hengyuan generals were distracted, Guo Jia’s brilliant, pragmatic mind snapped into action. He grabbed Cao Pi’s arm with surprising strength, his frail fingers digging into the prince’s armor.

​”The secret passage! Now!” Guo Jia screamed over the din of battle, physically dragging the stunned prince backward.

​Xun Yu, Cheng Yu, and the others instantly understood. Behind the massive, elevated dais that held the imperial Dragon Throne was a hidden, reinforced panel designed precisely for this kind of catastrophic scenario.

​While Xiahou Dun, Xu Huang, and Zhang He threw their lives into the meat grinder to buy them seconds, the advisors swarmed the throne. Xi Zhicai and Tian Feng frantically felt along the intricately carved wooden paneling, searching for the hidden mechanism.

​”Hurry! By the heavens, hurry!” Jia Kui shouted, looking back in terror as Guan Yu engaged Xiahou Dun in a clash of titans just a few dozen yards away.

​With a loud, grinding click, the mechanism engaged. A section of the wall behind the throne swung inward, revealing a dark, narrow stone tunnel that descended deep into the bowels of the palace.

​”Go! Your Highness, go!” Cheng Yu pushed Cao Pi toward the gaping black maw.

​Cao Pi stumbled into the darkness, his sword still gripped tightly in his hand, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The advisors scrambled in right behind him, their silk robes tearing on the rough stone. Xu You was the last one through, desperately pulling the heavy, counter weighted door shut behind them just as Taishi Ci turned around, his cold eyes catching the movement.

​With a heavy THUD, the secret door sealed shut, blending seamlessly back into the ornate wall paneling, leaving the horrific sounds of the battle muffled and distant.

​The tunnel was pitch black, smelling of damp earth and old dust. They stumbled blindly forward, guided only by the frantic feeling of the walls.

​”Where does this lead?” Cao Pi gasped, his chest heaving as he tripped over the uneven stone steps.

​”To the Harem Palace, Your Highness,” Guo Jia replied between agonizing coughs, his voice echoing in the tight space. ”It bypasses the main courtyards. We make for Grand Concubine Bian’s chambers. If the Emperor is still breathing, we secure him, and we try to find a way out through the northern servant gates. We must keep moving.”

​While the prince and his brain trust fled into the dark, the Great Hall they left behind was transforming into a monument of slaughter.

​The Hengyuan and Wei forces clashed with a ferocity that defied human endurance. This was not a battle of maneuvering armies; it was a claustrophobic, brutal brawl fought over polished marble and shattered mahogany.

The ornate, intricately carved map table was physically smashed into kindling as Dian Wei threw a fully armored Wei soldier bodily across it. Beautiful, ancient tapestries caught fire from overturned braziers, filling the high vaulted ceiling with thick, choking black smoke.

​The Wei elite guards, knowing they were marching to their deaths, fought with a terrifying, silent fanaticism. They threw themselves onto the spears of the Hengyuan infantry, using their own dying bodies to pin the enemy’s weapons so their comrades could strike.

​But sheer fanaticism could not overcome the insurmountable gap in martial supremacy.

​In the center of the room, Xu Huang was fighting the battle of his life against Dian Wei. The Wei general’s great axe was a weapon of immense power, but facing Dian Wei was like trying to chop down a mountain.

​”You are strong, Wei dog!” Dian Wei roared, laughing as he caught the haft of Xu Huang’s axe between his twin halberds. The sound of grinding iron filled the air as the two behemoths locked in a test of pure, unadulterated strength. The marble floor literally cracked beneath their boots.

​Xu Huang’s muscles bulged, his teeth gritted in absolute agony. He pushed with everything he had, but Dian Wei’s strength was supernatural. With a brutal, twisting motion, Dian Wei violently wrenched his halberds, snapping the thick, reinforced wooden haft of Xu Huang’s great axe in two.

​As Xu Huang stumbled forward, off-balance and disarmed, Dian Wei dropped his left halberd and threw a devastating, bare knuckle punch that connected flush with Xu Huang’s breastplate. The heavy iron armor crumpled inward.

Xu Huang was lifted off his feet and thrown backward, crashing heavily into a lacquered pillar. He slumped to the ground, gasping for air, ribs shattered, entirely incapacitated. Hengyuan soldiers immediately swarmed him, binding his wrists with heavy chains.

To the side, Zhang He was engaged in a dizzying, lethal dance with Taishi Ci. It was a blur of motion, spear tip flashing against twin rod hammers. Zhang He used the ornate pillars of the Great Hall to his advantage, springing off them, thrusting from impossible angles. But Taishi Ci’s cold, calculating eyes tracked every movement.

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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