Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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Yuan Shao remained silent, his fingers tightening slightly on the armrest of his throne. Yuan Shang stepped forward, his voice tinged with desperation. ”Father, staying here is madness! If we flee now, we can regroup and reclaim what we’ve lost. There’s no shame in retreating to fight another day, we have done that before, we could do it again.”

For a long moment, Yuan Shao said nothing. The silence was deafening, the tension in the room palpable. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, ”And what of your second brother? What of Yuan Xi?”

Yuan Tan and Yuan Shang exchanged uneasy glances, neither wanting to be the first to answer. After an uncomfortable pause, Yuan Shang spoke hesitantly. ”Second Brother... he has chosen to stay behind. He’s leading the remnants of our forces to hold off Lie Fan’s army and buy us time to... make our decision.”

Yuan Shao’s weary eyes widened slightly, a flicker of emotion breaking through his exhaustion. The thought of Yuan Xi sacrificing himself for the family, while his eldest and youngest sons pleaded for escape, ignited a spark of anger within him. His hand clenched the armrest of his throne as he forced himself upright, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and sorrow.

”My second son fights to protect our name, our honor, while you two...” He trailed off, his voice breaking. Yuan Tan and Yuan Shang flinched under his gaze, but he lacked the energy to berate them further. His shoulders sagged, and he waved a hand dismissively. ”Do whatever you want. Go. Flee, if that is all you can offer.”

Yuan Tan and Yuan Shang hesitated for a moment before bowing their heads. Without another word, they turned and left the hall, their departure a tacit admission of their cowardice. The advisors and officials, too, fell silent, their earlier fervor replaced by a somber realization of their lord’s despair.

As the castle descended into an uneasy quiet, Yuan Shao leaned back on his throne, his mind drifting to memories of better days. He thought of his once-mighty army, the respect and fear his name had commanded, and the dreams he had held for his sons. Now, all of it seemed like a distant, fading dream.

Outside the castle, the Qilin Army’s advance was relentless. Lie Fan and Lu Lingqi led their troops through the streets of Zhongshan, their movements swift and decisive.

The city’s defenders, already demoralized by starvation and internal unrest, offered little resistance. Fires burned in several districts, the smoke mingling with the cries of surrender and the clash of steel.

Lie Fan paused at an intersection, his halberd resting on his shoulder as he surveyed the battlefield. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, his mind racing to ensure that no detail was overlooked. Beside him, Lu Lingqi stood with her weapon at the ready, her gaze sharp and focused.

”The southern district is secure, my lord,” reported Zhao Yun, his armor stained with blood. ”The Baihu Army’s efforts have caused significant unrest among the populace. Many of the defenders are laying down their arms.”

”Good,” Lie Fan replied. ”Press forward and secure the northern gate. We cannot allow Yuan Shao or his family to escape.”

Zhao Yun nodded and rode off to carry out the orders. Meanwhile, Zhang Liao approached, his expression grim but determined. ”My Lord, the Yuan forces are retreating to the castle. Their resistance is weakening. It’s only a matter of time before the city is fully under our control.”

Lie Fan nodded, his grip tightening on his halberd. ”No mercy for those who continue to resist. Ensure that the people know we fight for their freedom, not their destruction.”

Within the governor’s castle, the sounds of battle grew closer. Yuan Xi, battered and bloodied, stood atop the walls, his halberd heavy in his hands. His remaining soldiers fought valiantly, but their numbers were dwindling rapidly. Despite the hopelessness of their situation, Yuan Xi refused to abandon his post.

”Hold the line!” he roared, his voice hoarse. ”We fight for our family, for our honor!”

The soldiers rallied around him, their determination rekindled by his presence. Arrows rained down, and the clash of steel rang out as the defenders made their final stand. Yuan Xi fought with the ferocity of a cornered tiger, his every strike a testament to his unwavering resolve.

But the inevitable could not be delayed forever. The Qilin Army breached the castle gates, their disciplined ranks flooding into the courtyard. Lie Fan led the charge, his halberd sweeping aside the last vestiges of resistance. He locked eyes with Yuan Xi, the two men recognizing the end that had come.

Yuan Xi straightened, his expression one of defiance rather than fear. ”So, it has come to this,” he said, his voice steady. ”If I am to fall, I will do so with honor.”

Lie Fan nodded, a rare moment of respect passing between them. ”You fought well, Yuan Xi. But this battle was lost long before we crossed swords.”

The air crackled with anticipation as Lie Fan and Yuan Xi squared off. The scent of blood hung heavy, a grim testament to the carnage that had unfolded. Yuan Xi, despite the grim reality, exuded an aura of quiet resolve. His eyes, though narrowed, held a flicker of admiration for his opponent.

Lie Fan moved first, a blur of motion as he lunged. His halberd, a fearsome weapon of war, descended with the force of a thunderbolt. Yuan Xi, agile despite his armor, barely managed to deflect the blow, the impact sending tremors through his arms. He retaliated with a swift thrust of his sword, but Lie Fan, with a flick of his wrist, parried the attack effortlessly.

Lie Fan, sensing an opening, feinted left before unleashing a powerful overhead strike. Yuan Xi, anticipating the move, rolled aside, but Lie Fan, with a surprising twist of his body, redirected the attack. The halberd’s edge grazed Yuan Xi’s shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood. Yuan Xi winced, but his grip on his sword tightened.

Lie Fan pressed the attack, his movements a symphony of deadly grace. He unleashed a flurry of blows, each one more ferocious than the last. Yuan Xi, though skilled, was overwhelmed. He was forced to retreat, desperately trying to find an opening in Lie Fan’s relentless assault.

Lie Fan, sensing Yuan Xi’s desperation, baited him into a reckless charge. As Yuan Xi lunged, Lie Fan stepped aside, then with a swift, brutal move, swept his leg out from under him. Yuan Xi crashed to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. Lie Fan stood over him, his halberd poised.

Yuan Xi, scrambling back to his feet, knew the end was near. He unleashed a desperate barrage of attacks, a whirlwind of steel that forced Lie Fan to backpedal. But it was a futile effort. Lie Fan, with a calm precision, deflected each blow, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint.

Their weapons continue to clash, the final duel playing out amid the chaos. Yuan Xi continued to fight valiantly, his movements fueled by desperation and pride, but he was no match for Lie Fan’s superior skill and strength. With a final, powerful strike, Lie Fan disarmed Yuan Xi, his halberd slicing through the other man’s weapon.

Lie Fan lowered his halberd, the point resting lightly on Yuan Xi’s direction. Yuan Xi fell to his knees, his breathing labored. He looked up at Lie Fan, his gaze unwavering with a bitter smile touched his lips. ”You are indeed a formidable opponent,” he conceded, his voice hoarse. ”Do what you must. I have no regrets. I could finally reunite with my wife on the other side.”

Lie Fan raised his halberd but hesitated for a brief moment. Then, with a swift motion, he delivered the killing blow, ending Yuan Xi’s life. The courtyard fell silent, the Qilin Army soldiers standing in solemn acknowledgment of the fallen warrior’s bravery.

After Yuan Xi’s death, the resistance against Lie Fan and his army crumbled. The remaining soldiers, demoralized and leaderless, threw down their weapons and surrendered.

With the city of Zhongshan now under his control, Lie Fan regrouped his forces. Together with Lu Lingqi, he led the soldiers from the Qilin Army, the Qinlong Army, and the Baihu Army towards the governor’s castle.

The castle, once the last symbol of Yuan Shao’s crumbling power, now stood desolate and foreboding. The gates had been battered open, the courtyards littered with debris and the remnants of a futile defense.

As they marched into the castle’s inner sanctum, Lie Fan’s soldiers moved with disciplined precision, securing every corridor and chamber. The clinking of their armor and the steady thud of boots echoed ominously through the halls.

Finally, Lie Fan and Lu Lingqi approached the grand main hall. The heavy doors were pushed open with a resounding creak, revealing a sight both somber and surreal.

The hall was nearly empty, stripped of the usual throngs of advisors, officials, and guards. Only Yuan Shao remained, seated on his throne at the far end of the room. His once-proud visage was now marked by exhaustion and despair, his elaborate robes wrinkled and stained. Yet, even in defeat, he retained an air of defiance.

The hall was silent save for the measured footsteps of Lie Fan and Lu Lingqi as they approached. Yuan Shao’s eyes flickered briefly with recognition when he saw Lie Fan.

Memories of the young man he had once underestimated during the campaigns against the Yellow Turbans and Dong Zhuo surged to the forefront of his mind.

He had never imagined that this young man would rise to such power, much less be the one to deliver his downfall. He had always assumed that if he and his clan were to fall, it would be at the hands of Cao Cao, his old rival. The irony cut deeper than any blade.

Lie Fan’s expression was unreadable, his halberd still in hand. Lu Lingqi stood by his side, her posture unwavering, her presence as imposing as ever. They advanced slowly down the length of the hall, their footsteps deliberate, until they stood just a few paces from the throne.

Yuan Shao’s gaze met Lie Fan’s. For a moment, neither man spoke. The weight of history, of decisions made and paths taken, hung heavy in the air. Finally, Yuan Shao broke the silence, his voice hoarse but steady.

”So, it has come to this,” he said, his tone devoid of anger or fear. ”You, Lie Fan. Of all the forces in this land, it is you who has triumphed over me. The heavens have a cruel sense of humor.”

Lie Fan’s grip on his halberd tightened slightly. ”It was not the heavens that brought us here, Yuan Shao. It was your choices.” His voice was calm, almost clinical. ”You had the resources, the strength, and the opportunities to unite the land. But your arrogance and indecision squandered them. Now, Zhongshan falls not because of the heavens, but because you failed to protect it.”

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains

Age: 32 (199 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 1325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 951 (+20)

VIT: 613 (+20)

AGI: 598 (+10)

INT: 617

CHR: 96

WIS: 519

WILL: 407

ATR Points: 0