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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”No,” Yan Xing said, tracing a line on the map with a calloused finger. ”His Majesty is not a fool. He does not ask us to retake Tianshui. He orders us to bypass it.”

He moved his finger north, away from the main road, tracing a jagged route through the rougher terrain. ”We are to march immediately to Canluan and Linjing. From there, we are to commandeer every vessel capable of floating, fishing skiffs, grain barges, rafts, and utilize the Wei River.”

”The river?” Mang Xing scoffed, crossing his massive arms. ”To sail to Chang’an?”

”To sail directly into the capital’s docks,” Yan Xing confirmed. ”Avoiding the road entirely. Bypassing Fa Zheng’s ambush points.”

Silence descended on the room, heavy and oppressive. The five commanders looked at the blue line of the Wei River on the map. It looked so simple in ink. In reality, it was a logistical nightmare of epic proportions.

”Two hundred thousand men,” Cheng Li muttered, breaking the silence. He began to pace the length of the hall, his spurs jingling with an irritating rhythm. ”Plus horses. Plus fodder. Plus weaponry. Do you have any idea how many boats that requires, Commander?”

”I can count,” Yan Xing snapped, though his heart wasn’t in the rebuke.

”It would take months,” Cheng Li continued, his voice rising in pitch. ”We would have to split the army into ten, maybe twenty groups. The first group sails, disembarks at Chang’an, and then the boats have to sail back upstream, against the current, mind you, to pick up the next group. By the time the third group arrives, the first group will likely already be dead, crushed by Lie Fan’s vanguard.”

Yang Qiu, who had been studying the map intently, looked up. ”And consider the flank. If we move to Canluan, we are exposing our side to Tianshui. Do you think Fa Zheng sits blind in his fortress? As soon as we move toward the river, he will know. He will send cavalry, light, fast raiders, to burn the boats and harass our embarkation points. We will be trying to load horses onto rafts while under arrow fire.”

​”It is a desperate plan,” Lu Kan agreed, shaking his head. ”A plan born of panic. If we go down that river, we are not an army. We are ducks in a row. And if Lie Fan reaches Chang’An before the last of us arrive? We are just feeding meat into a grinder, piecemeal.”

​Yan Xing slammed his fist onto the table, making the wine cups jump. ”I know! Do you think I don’t know this? But what is the alternative? To disobey is treason. To stay here is to be isolated. If we do nothing, Lie Fan will finish with Cao Cao and then turn his eyes toward us.”

​The room fell into a sullen quiet again. The candles flickered, casting long, dancing shadows against the stone walls. Outside, the muffled roar of the encampment, two hundred thousand men waiting for orders, sounded like a distant ocean.

​Then, Cheng Li stopped pacing. He stood at the far end of the table, his face half hidden in shadow. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously soft.

​”You ask what the alternative is,” Cheng Li said. ”I have a question first.”

​He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze piercing. ”Why?”

​Yan Xing frowned. ”Why what?”

​”Why are we doing this?” Cheng Li walked slowly back to the table. ”Why are we breaking our backs, risking our lives, and marching two hundred thousand sons of the northwest into a death trap? To save Cao Cao? For what? Even if we miraculously get all two hundred thousand men to Chang’an... does it change the outcome?”

​He gestured violently toward the east. ”Tong Pass has fallen. The ’Impenetrable Barrier’ is gone. Lie Fan has an army of monsters, siege weapons that shatter walls like glass, and generals who are veritable gods of war. And now, he has the momentum of Heaven itself. Can our two hundred thousand men stop that? Or will we just be adding our bodies to the pyre?”

​”Watch your tongue, Cheng Li,” Yan Xing warned, though his hand did not move toward his sword. ”You speak of the Emperor.”

​”I speak of a sinking ship!” Cheng Li shot back, slamming his hand onto the map. ”And I am asking why we should chain ourselves to the mast!”

​The silence that followed was different this time. It wasn’t the silence of contemplation; it was the silence of a dam beginning to crack.

​Cheng Li leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ”We are not central plainsmen anymore. We are now men of the borderlands. Our loyalty has always been... pragmatic. And look at our situation. Usually, when a general goes to war, his family is kept in the capital. Hostages, to ensure good behavior. That is Cao Cao’s way.”

​He paused, looking meaningfully at Li Kan. ”Where is your wife, General Lu?”

​Lu Kan swallowed hard. ”She is... in the guest wing of this castle. With my sons.”

​”And yours, General Mang?”

​”Here,” Mang Xing grunted. ”In the city.”

​”Exactly,” Cheng Li hissed. ”Because we are the Western Garrisons. We are the shield against the barbarians. We move as clans. Our families are here. With us. Cao Cao has no leverage. He has no knife at our children’s throats in Chang’An. We are free men, holding swords, standing on our own land.”

​The realization rippled through the room. It was a thought they had all suppressed, a forbidden fruit they hadn’t dared to taste until now.

​Yan Xing looked down at the map, at the vast territories they controlled. ”You are suggesting... independence.”

​”I am suggesting survival,” Cheng Li corrected. ”And not just survival, power.”

​He grabbed a dagger from the table and stabbed it into the map, right into Xingping. ”We have two hundred thousand men. We have the entire northwest, Gansu, Qinghai, Wuwei, and Xiping. This is a kingdom in all but name. Why should we march to Chang’an to die for a failing dynasty? Why not stay? Why not fortify? Why not let Cao Cao and Lie Fan tear each other apart, while we rule our own lands like kings?”

​Lu Kan looked at Mang Xing, then at Yan Xing. The fear in his eyes was being replaced by a glimmer of ambition. ”A League,” Lu Kan murmured. ”A coalition of the Northwest.”

​”Yes,” Cheng Li pressed, sensing the tide turning. ”A League of Lords. We divide the territory. General Yan, you hold the largest force, you keep Xiping and the central command. Lu Kan and I split the Gansu Corridor. Mang Xing takes the Qinghai Plateau. Yang Qiu, you keep Wuwei. We govern our own capitals. We support each other. If Lie Fan comes, he faces a united front on his own terrain, mountains and deserts where his cavalry cannot sweep as easily as on the plains. But if we go to Chang’An... we lose everything.”

​Yan Xing stared at the dagger quivering in the map. He thought of his grandson, playing in the courtyard just outside this hall. If he marched to Chang’an, that boy would likely be an orphan before the winter snows melted.

​”It makes sense,” Mang Xing rumbled, his deep voice filling the room. ”We hold the land. We hold the army. We hold our families. Why throw it away?”

​”I agree,” Lu Kan said quickly. ”The terrain favors us here. We can defend the passes. We can negotiate with Lie Fan from a position of strength later, or simply remain independent if he is weakened by the siege of Chang’An.”

​Three of them were in. The gaze of the room turned to the last man.

​Yang Qiu stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in a deep, painful frown. He was looking at the seal of Cao Cao on the discarded scroll.

​”And what of honor?” Yang Qiu asked quietly. ”What of the past?”

​The others stiffened.

​”Lord Cao Cao treated us with kindness,” Yang Qiu said, his voice struggling with the weight of his conscience. ”He trusted us to guard his back against the Qiang in the past. He treated us generals of the Han as his own and even promoted us to each our position now, not as barbarian warlords. To turn on him now... when he is at his most desperate... is that the act of honorable men?”

​Cheng Li opened his mouth to retort, likely with a cynical barb, but Yan Xing held up a hand to stop him.

​The old commander looked at Yang Qiu with a mixture of pity and resolve. He walked over to the younger general and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

​”General Yang,” Yan Xing said, his voice weary but firm. ”You are a good man. Loyalty is a virtue. But ask yourself... to whom do you owe the greater loyalty? To a distant Emperor who views us as pawns to be sacrificed to delay his enemy? Or to the men outside who look to you for their lives? To your wife? To your children?”

​Yan Xing walked back to the head of the table and picked up Cao Cao’s order. He held it up to the torchlight.

​”Cao Cao’s kindness was real,” Yan Xing acknowledged. ”And we have repaid it. For several years in the past, we have bled to keep the Qiang tribes off his back. We have consolidated the entire Gansu and Qinghai regions under his banner. We have sent him tribute, taxes, and horses. We have bought our titles with the blood of our soldiers.”

​He lowered the scroll, his eyes hardening. ”The debt is paid. The contract is fulfilled. What he asks for now, the destruction of our army and the abandonment of our families, is not duty. It is suicide. And I will not order sixty five thousand fathers and sons to die for a cause that is already lost.”

​Yan Xing looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each man. ”It is not about right or wrong anymore, Yang Qiu. It is about survival. If we go, we die, and our families are enslaved. If we stay, we live, and we rule.”

​Yang Qiu closed his eyes. He stood there for a long moment, the internal battle playing out across his face. He thought of the letter he had written to his wife just this morning, promising he would return. He thought of the cold waters of the Wei River.

​Finally, he exhaled a long, shuddering breath. He opened his eyes and looked at Yan Xing.

​”For our families,” Yang Qiu whispered.

​”For our families,” Yan Xing affirmed.

​He took the scroll with Cao Cao’s orders and held it over the flame of the central candle. The silk curled and blackened, catching fire. They watched in silence as the vermilion seal of the Wei Emperor turned to ash and crumbled onto the map of the lands they now claimed as their own.

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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