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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The curses, the insults, and the raw, unadulterated words of absolute anguish washed over Lie Fan like a torrential, freezing rain. He did not push them away. He did not summon the guards to drag them off. He simply stood there, an unmovable pillar of stone, absorbing the full, horrific emotional consequence of his own decree.

He remembered them from years ago. He remembered meeting Empress Ding and Lady Bian back when he and Cao Cao were still cordial allies, long before the ambition of warlords had turned the continent into a slaughterhouse. They had shared polite conversations over tea, they had been gracious hostesses. To see them reduced to this broken, hysterical state was a heavy, agonizing burden to bear.

Slowly, gently, Lie Fan raised his hands and placed them softly on the trembling shoulders of the two weeping women.

”I am sorry,” Lie Fan spoke, his voice dropping to a low, incredibly gentle whisper, entirely devoid of imperial arrogance. It was the sincere, agonizing apology of a man who recognized the monstrous nature of the act he had just committed.

”There was no other way,” Lie Fan continued softly, speaking directly over their sobs. ”There was simply no other way except this path. If I left them alive, the sons would have grown into men, and the cycle of war would have started all over again. Hundreds of thousands or even millio wemore would have died.”

He looked down into Empress Ding’s tear streaked face. ”Brother Mengde knew this. He understood the rules of the board we played on. He accepted this outcome. He drank the tea knowing that it was the only way to finalize the peace.”

”Peace?” Empress Ding choked out a bitter, agonizing laugh, her grip on his robes weakening. ”You call this graveyard peace?”

”I will bury him, and I will bury your sons, with the utmost honor,” Lie Fan promised, his voice thick with solemn resolve. ”They will not be forgotten in an unmarked ditch. They will be laid to rest on the eastern hills, facing the rising sun, dressed as the royalty they were.”

He squeezed their shoulders gently, offering the only tiny sliver of comfort he could provide in a completely destroyed world. ”And when the time comes, many years from now... I will leave room in the mausoleum. So that the two of you may be buried alongside him. Your family will be together in the end.”

The two women did not respond. The sheer, overwhelming weight of the trauma, combined with the physical exhaustion of their hysterical grief, finally broke them.

Empress Ding’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed entirely, her body going limp against Lie Fan’s chest. A second later, Grand Concubine Bian let out a final, shuddering gasp and fainted beside her, dropping to the stone floor.

Lie Fan caught Empress Ding before she hit the ground, gently lowering her unconscious form to the courtyard stones.

He stood up slowly, adjusting his rumpled robes. He looked toward the nervous, hovering guards.

”Bring them back to their chambers in the inner mansion,” Lie Fan ordered quietly. ”Summon the Imperial Physicians to attend to them immediately. Give them sedatives to calm their nerves, and ensure they are treated with the absolute highest respect. They are under my direct protection.”

The guards rushed forward, carefully and respectfully lifting the unconscious matriarchs and carrying them away from the bloody reality of the courtyard.

With the sudden, emotional storm passed, the yard fell back into a grim, methodical silence. The bodies had been collected, the stretchers were moving out toward the mortuary tents. As Lie Fan stood alone in the center of the emptied execution ground, the heavy, rhythmic footsteps of his inner circle approached from behind.

Jia Xu, Xun You, Chen Qun, Mi Zhu, Chen Gong, Liu Ye, Sima Yi, Lu Su, Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, and Xu Shu, the eleven most brilliant, powerful, and ruthless minds in the entire Hengyuan Empire, stepped forward, forming a semi circle around their sovereign.

​They had watched the entire horrific exchange. They had seen the Emperor’s tear, they had seen him absorb the curses of the widows, and they understood the incredible, agonizing psychological toll the morning had taken upon him.

​”Your Imperial Majesty,” Zhuge Liang spoke softly, stepping forward, his usually serene face etched with genuine, profound concern for the man he served. ”Are you... are you alright?”

​Lie Fan looked at the circle of men who had helped him orchestrate this dark day. He let out a long, heavy breath, the cold morning air stinging his lungs. He nodded his head slowly.

​”I am okay, Kongming,” Lie Fan replied, his voice steady, though his eyes remained dark and shadowed. ”It is... heartbreaking. It is an agonizing thing to watch a family break, and to know that you are the one holding the hammer.”

​He looked back toward the empty space where Cao Cao had fallen.

​”But I knew exactly what this decision entailed,” Lie Fan continued, his voice hardening back into the absolute resolve of the Emperor. ”I made the choice, and I have to live with it. The blood of the Cao clan is on my hands, but because of it, the blood of millions will not be spilled in the fields. That is the burden of the throne.”

​He turned away from the empty courtyard, facing his advisors.

​”The deed is done. The era is closed,” Lie Fan announced. ”There is nothing more for us here today.”

​With a final, sweeping glance at the Wang Estate, Lie Fan turned and began the long walk back toward the outer gates, where his heavy cavalry and his carriage waited.

​His advisors fell in line behind him in absolute, respectful silence. The Yellow Ghost Bodyguards formed their protective ring once more, their heavy boots crunching against the stone.

​They rode out from the mansion, leaving the gilded cage behind. The imperial procession wound its way back through the bustling, oblivious streets of Xiapi, returning to the towering, magnificent walls of the Imperial Palace.

​Behind them, the massive logistical machinery of the empire continued to turn. The bodies of Cao Cao, his sons, his uncles, and his nephews were brought to the mortuary tents.

The bodies of his five greatest vanguard generals, Xu Chu, Xiahou Dun, Xiahou Yuan, Cao Ren, and Cao Hong, were meticulously cleaned, their severed heads carefully reattached with fine silk thread. They were all dressed in magnificent, high quality garments that explicitly befitted their former high stations.

​They were prepared for the earth.

​And tomorrow, as the sun rose over the eastern hills, Emperor Lie Fan would ride out once more, not as an executioner, but as a sovereign, to personally preside over the final, grand burial of the Wei Dynasty.

The heavy, iron reinforced wheels of the imperial carriage rolled smoothly over the wide, impeccably paved avenues of Xiapi, leaving the grim, blood soaked silence of the Wang Estate far behind. Lie Fan sat alone within the spacious, silk lined interior, the curtains drawn tight to block out the blinding brilliance of the midday sun.

The rhythmic clatter of his elite cavalry escort echoed outside, a constant, reassuring reminder of the absolute power he commanded, yet within the carriage, there was only the suffocating weight of history.

When the towering, magnificent vermilion gates of the Imperial Palace finally swung open to receive their sovereign, Lie Fan felt a profound, almost physical exhaustion settle deep into his bones.

It was not the muscular fatigue of swinging a halberd on a chaotic battlefield, but a deep, spiritual draining that came from holding the lives of dozens of children of the Cao Clan in the palm of his hand and slowly, deliberately crushing them.

The carriage rolled to a gentle halt within the central courtyards. Lie Fan pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped out into the familiar, pristine sanctuary of his home.

He did not pause to address the hundreds of palace guards who immediately dropped to their knees in perfect reverence. He strode directly toward the inner administrative and residential wing, his dark crimson martial robes feeling unnaturally heavy, as if the fabric had absorbed the sorrow and the bitter tea of the execution yard.

As he crossed the threshold into the main antechamber of his personal quarters, a senior Imperial Maid hurried forward, bowing so deeply her forehead nearly touched the polished floorboards.

”Your Imperial Majesty,” she greeted him softly, her voice trembling slightly, acutely aware of the dark business the Emperor had just concluded.

”Summon the staff,” Lie Fan commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that betrayed his weariness. ”Have the maids and servants prepare a warm bath for me immediately. Fill the large wooden tub. Use the pine and cedar oils. I need the heat to pull the chill of that courtyard from my skin.”

”At once, Your Majesty. It shall be drawn perfectly,” the Imperial Maid replied, backing away swiftly to execute the order.

As the maid hurried off to mobilize the palace bathhouse attendants, Lie Fan turned slowly to face the formidable entourage that had followed him into the antechamber.

His inner circle of advisors, Jia Xu, Xun You, Chen Qun, Mi Zhu, Chen Gong, Liu Ye, Sima Yi, Lu Su, Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, and Xu Shu, stood in a respectful, silent semi circle. They, too, looked drained, carrying the shared psychological burden of the ruthless geopolitical calculus they had all endorsed.

Lie Fan looked at the brilliant minds that formed the structural steel of the Hengyuan Dynasty. He offered them a slow, weary nod of immense gratitude.

”You are all dismissed,” Lie Fan announced, his tone shifting from the supreme executioner back to the pragmatic ruler. ”The dark work of the morning is concluded. You may return to your respective ministries and attend to the duties and obligations you set aside to bear witness today. The empire does not pause to mourn, and our logistics must not suffer. Go, and find some peace in your work.”

The eleven advisors immediately brought their hands together, cupping them in a gesture of profound, unified respect. They bowed deeply, acknowledging the dismissal.

However, before the group could entirely disperse into the corridors, Chancellor Jia Xu broke the silence. The spymaster stepped forward, his dark, unreadable eyes locking onto the Emperor.

”Your Imperial Majesty,” Jia Xu spoke, his voice a dry, rasping whisper that cut through the rustling of silk robes. ”If it pleases the throne, I would humbly request an audience with you after you have taken your bath and refreshed yourself. I have a highly important matter of state security to report, one that requires your immediate attention.”

Lie Fan paused, looking at his Chancellor. He knew Jia Xu well enough to understand that the man never wasted the Emperor’s time with trivialities, especially not after a morning of such profound psychological strain. If Jia Xu was asking for a meeting now, it meant the shadow war was moving at a rapid pace.

Lie Fan nodded his head slowly. ”You may, Wenhe. I will not be long. Wait for me in my private study.”

”I thank Your Majesty,” Jia Xu bowed once more, before turning on his heel and taking his leave.

With the Chancellor’s departure, the rest of the advisors followed suit, their footsteps echoing softly as they dispersed back into the labyrinthine political wings of the palace to resume the gargantuan task of governing a unified continent.

Lie Fan turned and walked toward his private bathing chambers.

The room was already filled with thick, fragrant steam. The massive, circular wooden tub, carved from a single, ancient cedar tree, was filled to the brim with steaming, perfectly heated water.

The scent of crushed pine needles and soothing herbal oils hung heavily in the humid air, a sharp, clean contrast to the smell of blood and damp earth that seemed permanently etched into his nostrils.

Two attendant maids stepped forward to carefully remove his heavy, dark robes, folding the garments away as if handling poisonous artifacts. Lie Fan dismissed them with a gentle wave of his hand, desiring absolute solitude.

He stepped up to the edge of the tub and slowly lowered his large, scarred frame into the hot water.

A long, shuddering groan of pure physical relief escaped his lips as the heat immediately began to work its magic. He sank lower, letting the water rise to his chin, and closed his eyes.

The profound, enveloping warmth seeped deep into his aching muscles, systematically untying the tight, agonizing knots of tension that had formed in his back and shoulders over the past forty eight hours.

For a long time, the only sound in the chamber was the soft lapping of the water against the wooden rim.

Lie Fan allowed his mind to go entirely blank, forcefully pushing the faces of Cao Ang, Cao Pi, Cao Zhi, and the weeping boys from his immediate consciousness. He had made his peace with the decision; dwelling on the cruelty of it now would only poison his own soul. He focused entirely on the physical sensation of the water, the scent of the pine, and the steady, rhythmic beating of his own heart.

As the relaxing, meditative silence stretched on, the heavy fog of exhaustion began to lift from his mind. And as the fog cleared, the innate, unstoppable machinery of the supreme conqueror began to turn once more.

An idea suddenly popped into his mind, striking him with the clarity of a lightning bolt.

*The West,* Lie Fan thought, his eyes snapping open beneath the steam.

With the central plains completely pacified, the east secured, the south vassalized, and the naval preparations for Yamatai already underway, there was only one glaring, massive vulnerability left on the continental map.

The League of Northwestern Lords.

They controlled the rugged, arid, and highly defensible expanse of Liang Province. It was a treacherous coalition of warlords, bandits, and tribal chieftains who had banded together in the hope to stand as a new power, separating themselves from Cao Cao.

They were a chaotic, unpredictable force sitting directly upon the vital Silk Road, a dagger constantly pointed at the newly secured western gates of Chang’An.

Lie Fan had deliberately ignored them during the campaign against Wei, viewing them as a secondary threat that could be dealt with later. But now, with the board wiped clean, they required his absolute, undivided attention.

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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