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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Chang'An was no longer just a target. It was the center of a grand, inescapable trap. And as the dawn finally broke, painting the sky the color of spilled blood, the vanguard of Hengyuan saw the distant, towering walls of the Wei capital rising from the plains, waiting for the end.
The march from Tong Pass was a relentless, rolling tide of black iron and discipline. The dust kicked up by tens of thousands of marching boots and horses' hooves created a massive cloud that swallowed the rising sun, turning the sky a bruised, ominous purple.
Lie Fan rode Pangu at the absolute forefront of the vanguard. The great stallion's rhythmic gait ate up the miles, untiring and fierce. Flanking the Emperor were two of the most formidable pillars of his military might, Zhang Liao, the relentless, dynamic wolf of the cavalry, and Huang Zhong, the venerable tiger whose skill with a bow remained unmatched in the empire.
As they rode over a small crest, the distant, hazy silhouette of Chang'An finally materialized on the horizon, a grey smudge against the pale morning light.
Lie Fan did not take his eyes off the prize, but he raised his voice over the rhythmic clatter of armor and harness.
"Wenyuan," Lie Fan called out, addressing Zhang Liao. "Tell me. The morale of the men for this upcoming final battle. The battle to finally unify this war torn land under the banner of the Hengyuan Dynasty. How is it? Speak plainly."
Zhang Liao straightened in his saddle, his face breaking into a confident, almost fierce grin. "The morale is practically touching the heavens, Your Majesty. I have walked the lines, I have heard the sergeants talking around the campfires. They believe we will win this battle easily."
"Easily?" Lie Fan arched an eyebrow, his gaze still fixed forward. "Chang'An is a fortress city, Wenyuan. No siege is easy."
"To them, it is, Your Majesty," Zhang Liao insisted, his voice ringing with absolute conviction. "Because Your Majesty is leading them personally. They have seen what happens when the God of War takes the field. And beyond that, they know Your Majesty has brought the 'Thunder Pipes', the cannons. They believe those weapons will take down Chang'An's defenses as easily as a man kicks over a child's sandcastle."
From Lie Fan's other side, a deep, rumbling laugh erupted. Huang Zhong, his white beard whipping in the wind, slapped his armored thigh.
"What young Wenyuan says is exactly right, Your Majesty!" Huang Zhong bellowed, his voice carrying the rough, vibrant energy of a man half his age. "The soldiers are spirited. Their blood is hot! With this kind of energy, you could point them at a mountain, and they would try to cut it down with their swords!"
Lie Fan nodded slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. The belief of an army was a weapon just as potent as steel or gunpowder.
"It is good," Lie Fan mused aloud. "It is very good that the soldiers still hold such high trust in me after all these years of marching and bleeding."
"How could they not, Your Majesty?" Zhang Liao responded immediately, his tone earnest. "Since your arrival on the front lines, what have we seen? Luoyang, the ancient capital, fell. Tong Pass, the impenetrable barrier, fell. And now Chang'An will definitely fall. Because there is Your Majesty's presence, Your Majesty's unmatched strength, and Your Majesty's mind overseeing the battle himself. It is destiny, plain for all to see."
Lie Fan turned his head, looking at Zhang Liao with a mixture of amusement and mock suspicion. He let out a rich, echoing laugh.
"Wenyuan, Wenyuan," Lie Fan chuckled, shaking his head. "You have become much more slick in your praises lately. You have been learning the ways of the court while on this campaign, haven't you? Spending too much time listening to the civil officials?"
Zhang Liao's eyes widened in genuine surprise, and a slight flush crept up his neck. "No! Of course not, Your Majesty! I am a soldier. I am merely speaking the truth as I see it. I wouldn't dare flatter you with empty words."
Huang Zhong let out another booming laugh, pointing a thick, calloused finger at Zhang Liao.
"Your Majesty, do not tease the young ones like that!" Huang Zhong chided good naturedly. "Look at him, he's going to have a heart attack right here in the saddle! He thinks you're questioning his honor!"
Lie Fan shook his head, his smile widening. "Old General, you have become much more brash in your old age. You used to be quieter."
Huang Zhong offered a loud humph, adjusting his grip on his reins. "The older my age gets, Your Majesty, the more I realize I should speak my mind immediately! If I keep things bottled up, that is what will give me a heart attack. At my age, I don't have time to mince words."
Lie Fan laughed again, the sound carrying back to the nearest ranks of soldiers, who smiled to hear their Emperor in such high spirits. The camaraderie at the top was infectious, spreading confidence down through the thousands of men marching behind them.
As Lie Fan spent the time talking with his two trusted generals, trading tactical observations and good-natured jabs, the miles vanished beneath them. Time passed swiftly, and soon, the vanguard arrived at the outskirts of Chang'an.
The city was vast, an imposing behemoth of stone and packed earth. As Lie Fan drew Pangu to a halt on a small rise overlooking the eastern approach, he narrowed his eyes.
"They have been busy," Lie Fan observed quietly.
Chang'an was noticeably more fortified than the scout reports from a week ago had indicated. He could see fresh earthworks piled at the base of the walls, secondary barricades erected just behind the main gates, and the glint of countless arrowheads along the newly reinforced battlements.
Cao Cao's attempt on creating the 'Hedgehog Plan' was visible even from this distance. The city bristled with desperate, lethal intent.
Lie Fan looked to the south, and then to the west. The plains were empty save for the morning mist.
"Our army is the first to arrive," Lie Fan noted to Zhang Liao. "There is no presence of the armies under Zhang Lu or Fa Zheng yet."
"They have rougher terrain to cross, Your Majesty," Zhang Liao reasoned. "The plank roads from Hanzhong are slow going."
"True enough," Lie Fan agreed. He raised his hand, signaling the standardbearers. "Halt the advance. Order the army to begin building their encampments just out of trebuchet range. Have the men get some rest, eat a hot meal, and tend to their gear. We wait for the time for the siege to start, and we wait for the jaws of the trap to close. I want Fa Zheng and Zhang Lu in position before we strike the first blow."
As the orders rippled out and the massive logistical undertaking of erecting a siege camp for a hundred thousand men began, Lie Fan remained on his horse. For a long time, he just sat there, looking deeply at Chang'an's walls, studying the angles, the weak points, calculating the blood it would cost to breach them.
Time passed again. The sun climbed higher, burning off the morning haze.
Around midday, a massive cloud of dust appeared on the southern horizon. Slowly, the banners of Hanzhong materialized. It was Zhang Lu's army, a force of fifty thousand men, heavily composed of zealous infantry who followed the Celestial Master's teachings.
They marched with a fanatic's discipline, taking up positions to the south of Chang'an and immediately beginning the construction of their own fortified encampment, cutting off any escape route toward the southern mountains.
Moments later, an even larger dust cloud swallowed the western horizon. This was the hammer Fa Zheng had forged in Tianshui. More than one hundred and fifty thousand menz a mix of seasoned Shu veterans, mountain warriors, and integrated surrendered troops, poured onto the plains. They deployed with frightening efficiency to the west of Chang'an, their camp sprawling out like a vast, ordered city of tents.
The trap was now fully sprung. Chang'An was surrounded on three sides by a combined force that vastly outnumbered its defenders, with the Wei River acting as a natural barrier to the north.
While the two newly arrived armies were busy digging latrines, pitching tents, and setting up watchtowers, their commanding generals and chief advisors did not rest.
Leaving their subordinates in charge of the camp construction, a small, elite delegation rode swiftly east, heading directly toward the massive, black and gold command tent of Lie Fan, which had been erected on the highest point of the eastern encampment.
Inside that command tent, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the dust and noise outside. It was a haven of quiet, intense intellectual focus.
Lie Fan stood at the head of a massive table, a detailed topographical map of Chang'an spread before him. Surrounding him were the architects of his empire, Sima Yi, Chen Deng, Zang Hong, Pang Tong, and Xu Shu.
They were deep into the granular details of the siege strategy, debating the optimal placement for the artillery batteries and the sequence of the infantry assaults.
Suddenly, the heavy flap of the tent was pulled back slightly, and a heavily armored Imperial Guard stepped inside, bowing deeply.
"Excuse the interruption, Your Majesty," the guard reported respectfully. "Master Fa Zheng, Master Meng Da, and Master Yan Pu... alongside General Yan Yan, General Zhang Ren, King Meng Huo, General Zhang Wei, and General Yang Ang have arrived. They seek an audience with Your Majesty."
Lie Fan looked up from the map, a smile breaking across his face. The final pieces of the board had arrived.
"Allow them to enter immediately," Lie Fan ordered, stepping away from the table.
Sima Yi and the other advisors straightened up, moving to the sides to clear the center of the tent.
A moment later, the heavy tent flap was thrown wide open. Eight men stepped into the dim, incense-scented interior of the command tent. They brought with them the smell of sweat, leather, and the dust of a long, hard march.
The three civilian advisors, Fa Zheng, Meng Da, and Yan Pu, stepped forward first. Without hesitation, they brought their hands together, cupped their fists in front of their chests, and bowed deeply from the waist.
Behind them, the five military commanders, the stoic Zhang Ren, the white bearded Yan Yan, the massive, wild-haired Meng Huo, and Zhang Lu's generals, Zhang Wei and Yang Ang, did not merely bow.
The armor plates on their legs clattered loudly as all five men dropped heavily onto one knee. They cupped their hands, bowing their heads low.
"We greet Your Imperial Majesty!" the eight men chorused, their voices a mixture of deep respect, awe, and martial discipline. "Long live the Emperor!"
For these eight men, the moment held a profound weight. They had fought for different lords, they had surrendered to his armies, and they had executed his orders from afar. But this was the very first time they were laying eyes on the Emperor of Hengyuan, the man they had pledged their absolute allegiance to, the man who was about to conquer the world.
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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