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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Cao Cao stood up slowly, the silk of his robes rustling in the quiet air. He did not look like a defeated prisoner being led to the slaughter, he stood tall, his back straight, maintaining the regal, imposing bearing of the warlord who had terrorized the central plains for decades. He turned his back to the mahogany table and took three slow steps before leaving the pavilion.

Cao Cao stood up slowly, the silk of his robes rustling in the quiet air. He did not look like a defeated prisoner being led to the slaughter, he stood tall, his back straight, maintaining the regal, imposing bearing of the warlord who had terrorized the central plains for decades. He turned his back to the mahogany table and took three slow steps before leaving the pavilion.

But then, suddenly, he stopped.

He turned around, the fading sunlight catching the silver in his hair, and called out Lie Fan’s name.

”Lie Fan.”

In which Lie Fan also turned around, standing up from his own seat, meeting the gaze of his greatest enemy one final time.

And Cao Cao, at this time, gave a piece of profound, completely unexpected advice toward Lie Fan. It was not a curse, nor a plea, but a final strategic masterclass from a dying king to a living one, detailing how he should conduct his dynasty going forward.

”You have conquered the land with the sword,” Cao Cao began, his voice echoing with eerie, prophetic clarity. ”But the sword cannot govern the court. Pay attention to the traditions that you will pass down to the next generations in the future. Look at the ashes of the Han. Do not repeat their fatal errors.”

Cao Cao took a step back toward the pavilion, his dark eyes burning with intensity. ”Limit the power of the inner court, Lie Fan. Do not let the anyone have control over flow of information to your heirs. The moment a servant dictates what the Emperor hears, the throne is already lost. And beware the consort kin. When you marry your sons to the daughters of powerful generals to secure their loyalty, you are simply inviting wolves into the imperial bedchamber. The empress’s family will always seek to usurp the imperial blood.”

He pointed a finger at Lie Fan, delivering his final, greatest warning. ”And lastly, the military governors. I built my power because the Han gave me the authority to raise armies and collect taxes in my own province. Do not allow your regional commanders to hold both military and civil authority. Rotate your generals. Strip them of local ties. If you allow them to put down roots, they will grow into warlords.”

Cao Cao lowered his hand, his expression softening into a grim, knowing smile. ”Ensure these laws are carved into the very foundation of your imperial edicts. So that what happened at the Han Dynasty wouldn’t happen to your dynasty, as another chaos would surely rain down upon the land. If you fail to build a cage for your own court, the Hengyuan Dynasty will burn just as brightly, and just as briefly, as the Han.”

Lie Fan stood in absolute silence, absorbing the sheer, invaluable weight of the words. It was the ultimate parting gift. Cao Cao was handing him the architectural blueprint to prevent the collapse of his life’s work.

Lie Fan nodded his head deeply, bowing slightly at the waist in a gesture of profound respect. He would take the advice to heart as well, since it was very important, perhaps the most important strategic counsel he had received in his entire life.

”I will carve your words into the ancestral tablets, Brother Mengde,” Lie Fan promised. ”Your insight will protect this realm long after we are both dust.”

Cao Cao smiled, a genuine, peaceful expression that finally erased the lines of war from his face. ”Farewell, Emperor of Hengyuan.”

”Farewell, Emperor of Wei.”

Cao Cao turned and walked out of the pavilion, disappearing into the shadows of the estate’s heavy oak doors, flanked immediately by the silent, heavily armed guards who would escort him to his final confinement.

And after that was done, Lie Fan left the mansion. He walked out of the serene, quiet gardens, his footsteps echoing on the stone pathways. The moment he passed through the outer gates, the atmosphere shifted violently. The quiet intimacy of the pavilion was instantly replaced by the overwhelming, monumental machinery of his empire.

Hundreds of elite imperial guards dropped to their knees as he approached his massive, gold adorned carriage. Banners bearing the fearsome insignia of the Hengyuan Dynasty snapped in the wind.

Lie Fan boarded the carriage and returned back to the palace. As the heavy wooden wheels rolled over the paved avenues of the capital, his mind was entirely consumed by the grim logistics of the coming dawn. It was time to prepare for the execution tomorrow.

He stared out the window at the bustling city, his heart heavy. It would not be bloody. He had decreed that the Cao bloodline would not be subjected to the humiliation of the executioner’s blade in the public square. There would be no severed heads rolling in the dirt, no axes swinging in the sunlight.

But it will be a heinous sight nonetheless, a psychological nightmare of unimaginable proportions, since many will drink poison. Wives, sons, brothers, and nephews, dozens of people who shared Cao Cao’s blood would be gathered in the courtyards of their respective estates and handed porcelain cups filled with lethal, fast acting toxins.

It was a sterile, quiet massacre, but a massacre all the same. The absolute eradication of a noble house was a terrifying burden to order, but Lie Fan’s resolve did not waver. The peace of millions required the deaths of a few dozen.

When he reached the sprawling, magnificent complex of the imperial palace, he did not allow himself to rest. He went to his grand study, a massive room filled with towering shelves of bamboo slips and silk scrolls, and forced himself to do his daily bureaucratic work as Emperor.

It was a stark contrast to the apocalyptic decisions of life and death. He read reports on grain harvests in the southern provinces, authorized the dredging of the Yellow River canals to prevent spring flooding, and signed edicts demobilizing thousands of veteran soldiers, reallocating them to agricultural colonies to rebuild the devastated farmlands.

He buried the emotional trauma of the execution under a mountain of mundane, vital paperwork, working by the flickering light of oil lamps until his eyes burned and his fingers cramped around his calligraphy brush.

Time passed by, the long, dark hours of the night stretching agonizingly as the weight of the impending dawn pressed down on the capital.

And the day turned into the next day. The sun rose over the imperial city, casting a blood red hue across the glazed tile roofs of the palace. It was a beautiful, crisp morning, a cruel contradiction to the dark business that was about to unfold.

At the edge of the city, the sprawling Wang Estate, the heavily fortified compound where the remnants of the Cao clan, including Cao Cao’s sons and extended family, had been held under tight guard, was now completely surrounded.

The Wang Estate was now full of officials. Ministers of the court, imperial censors, and high ranking bureaucratic overseers stood in the massive outer courtyard, their faces pale and drawn, whispering in hushed, nervous tones. They were the witnesses, the men required by law to document the end of the Wei bloodline and ensure the Emperor’s brutal edict was carried out to the letter.

They stood in the morning chill, shifting uncomfortably, and were waiting for Lie Fan’s arrival as the Emperor to give the final, irrevocable nod.

The heavy, suffocating tension in the courtyard broke when the distant, rhythmic thud of marching boots echoed down the avenue. The massive front gates of the estate were hauled open.

And when Lie Fan came, he did not come as a friend or a rival, he arrived as the undisputed, terrifying Sovereign of the World. He rode into the courtyard on his massive armored warhorse, flanked instantly by hundreds of his imperial guards.

These were the absolute elite, clad in heavy, dark iron armor, their faces hidden behind terrifying demon masks, holding halberds that caught the morning sun. They fanned out across the estate with ruthless, silent precision, securing every exit and every shadow.

Riding just a half step behind Lie Fan were his top inner circle advisors, the brilliant strategists and ruthless administrators who had helped him engineer this very moment. They looked upon the Wang Estate with cold, calculating eyes, ready to finalize the bloody math of their unification.

Lie Fan brought his horse to a halt in the center of the courtyard, looking up at the closed wooden doors of the main hall where the Cao family waited for their poisoned cups. The silence was absolute, heavy with the terrifying gravity of history being violently written.

With a fluid, practiced grace that defied the heavy weight of his dark, crimson embroidered martial robes, Lie Fan swung his leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground. His heavy leather boots struck the paved stones with a resounding, authoritative thud that echoed like a war drum against the high courtyard walls.

​He tossed the thick leather reins to a waiting, visibly trembling guard. As he turned to face the main hall, two figures immediately detached themselves from the tightly packed ranks of his inner circle and stepped forward to stand at his sides, their postures reflecting the grave, lethal reality of the morning’s business.

​To his left stood Chancellor Jia Xu, his dark robes seeming to absorb the morning light, his face an unreadable mask of cold, pragmatic efficiency. To his right stood Chen Gong, the Minister of Law, whose spine was as rigid as the legal codes he enforced, his expression stern and entirely uncompromising.

​Lie Fan did not look at them immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the closed wooden doors of the estate, where the remnants of a dynasty waited.

​”Report,” Lie Fan commanded softly, his voice carrying a low, resonant rumble that demanded absolute precision.

​Jia Xu bowed his head slightly, stepping just a fraction closer so his rasping whisper would not carry to the nervous officials lingering near the gates.

​”Your Imperial Majesty,” Jia Xu began, his tone entirely devoid of emotion, simply laying out the grim mathematics of the day. ”The timeline has been perfectly preserved. The time for the execution of Cao Cao, Cao Pi, Cao Ang, and the chosen male members of the direct Cao Family has not yet come. The apothecaries are making their final preparations. The poisoned beverages will be brought to their respective courtyards precisely at noon, as you decreed, allowing you the morning to finalize your peace.”

​Jia Xu paused, his dark eyes shifting toward the eastern wing of the sprawling estate. ”However, the sun has crested the walls. The designated hour for martial justice has arrived. The time for the execution of the Wei Generals has come. The yard is prepared, so Your Majesty may oversee the execution of the military command structure first, clearing the board before the final king is taken.”

​Chen Gong immediately stepped forward from Lie Fan’s right side, picking up the report with the rigid, unyielding cadence of a magistrate reading a final sentence. He bowed his head respectfully.

​”Your Majesty,” Chen Gong stated, his voice clear and sharp. ”The prisoners have been extracted from the subterranean military prisons and transported here under the cover of darkness. Xu Chu, Xiahou Dun, Xiahou Yuan, Cao Ren, and Cao Hong have all been processed, bound, and prepared for the execution block. The executioners have been carefully selected from your most veteran, steady handed heavy infantry. They are all in position, their blades are readied, and they await only Your Majesty’s presence and your final, irrevocable order for the beheading to be done.”

​Lie Fan stood in the chilly morning air, absorbing the sheer, historical gravity of the names Chen Gong had just spoken. Xu Chu, the Tiger Fool. Xiahou Dun, the Blind Wolf. Xiahou Yuan, the Swift Bow. Cao Ren, the Unmovable Fortress. Cao Hong, the Raging Fire. These were not mere men; they were the absolute pillars of an era, the martial titans who had shattered armies, burned cities, and forged the Wei Dynasty with their own hands.

To sever their heads was to definitively decapitate the spirit of the old world.

​Lie Fan slowly nodded his head, his face a mask of solemn, melancholic resolve. The ruthless pragmatism of the Emperor warred briefly with the profound respect of a fellow warrior, but the Emperor’s logic prevailed.

​”Then we shall not keep them waiting,” Lie Fan decreed, his voice heavy with the burden of his crown. ”We will proceed to the eastern yard. We shall oversee the beheading of these top-tier generals first.” He looked toward the eastern wing, his eyes narrowing slightly as he articulated the philosophical necessity of the act, speaking not just to his advisors, but to history itself.

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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