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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"Captured," Cao Cao said, his voice breaking. He forced his eyes open, looking into his wife's terrified face. "He has been captured by Lie Fan. The Hengyuan forces overran our rear guard at the pass. And it was not just him. Xu Chu... Cao Ren... Cao Hong. All of them. Taken by the enemy."
The names fell into the room like executioner's blades. Xu Chu, the invincible bodyguard. Cao Ren, the steadfast defender. Cao Hong, the loyal kinsman. And Cao Ang, the beloved heir. The sheer scale of the loss was incomprehensible. It wasn't just a defeat, it was a dismemberment of the Wei Dynasty's core.
"What did you just say, husband?" Empress Ding breathed, her face turning the color of bleached parchment. Her hands shook violently against Cao Cao's robes. "Captured? In enemy hands? That demon Lie Fan has my son?"
Cao Cao could only sigh again, a sound of utter defeat. He lowered his head, unable to bear the sight of a mother's world shattering before his eyes.
At that moment, the rustle of heavy fabric sounded loudly as Cao Pi threw himself to the floor. He dropped hard onto both knees, the impact echoing in the hall. He bowed his head until his forehead touched the cold stone, his shoulders trembling.
"Imperial Mother... please forgive me," Cao Pi cried out, his voice thick with tears, whether of genuine grief, survivors' guilt, or calculated theater, even he might not have fully known in that moment. "It is my fault all of this happening! Please punish me!"
Empress Ding looked down at him, her breathing becoming shallow and erratic. "Pi... wh... what happened? How could your elder brother be captured?!"
"Eldest Brother... Eldest Brother was captured because he chose to stay behind," Cao Pi choked out, his words tumbling over one another in a rush of desperate confession. "The Hengyuan cavalry was upon us. It was a sea of monsters. The demonic generals were cutting through our lines. Eldest Brother saw that that our horses could not outrun them. He gave me his horse. He rallied the remaining guards. He... he bought the time necessary to allow me to escape. He stayed back and held off the pursuing Hengyuan soldiers with his own body so that I could escape safely."
She turned back to Cao Cao, and now the tears began to form, though they did not fall. Cao Cao reached for her, but she stepped back. "Ding... I swear to you, I will get him back. When this is over, when we have defended Chang'an, I will negotiate—"
"Negotiate?" Empress Ding's voice rose, and now the tears spilled over, running down her cheeks in silent streams. "With what? With what army? With what leverage? You came back with half your men! Tong Pass is lost! The west is cut off! What do you have to negotiate with, Cao Mengde?!"
The use of his personal name, not his title, struck him like a blow. She had not called him that in years, not since the early days, when they were young and the future was unwritten.
Meanwhile the thought of her noble, brave boy, standing alone against a tide of Hengyuan cavalry, overwhelmed Empress Ding's senses. The air in the room seemed to vanish. The faces of the concubines blurred into a swirling mosaic of pity and horror.
Her frantic, gasping breaths culminated in a sharp, sudden silence. Her eyes rolled back, and the last of the strength left her legs. She collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.
"My Lady!" Cao Cao shouted, his reflexes briefly overriding his exhaustion as he lunged forward, catching her limp body just before she struck the stone floor. "Physician! Get the Imperial Physician immediately!"
The inner palace erupted into chaos, a microcosm of the collapsing dynasty, filled with weeping women and the frantic shouts for medical aid.
While Cao Cao was submerged in the devastating drama and grief of his family, outside the palace walls, the cold, mechanical reality of war demanded attention. There was no time for the strategists of Wei to mourn, if they paused to grieve, they would all surely die.
Inside the grand military pavilion set up in the city's central plaza, the greatest minds of the Wei Dynasty were gathered around a massive map of Chang'An and its surrounding topography. The air was thick with the dust of old scrolls and the sharp tang of cheap wine used to keep exhaustion at bay.
Xun Yu stood at the head of the table. Dark bags hung heavily beneath his eyes, and his usually immaculate robes were rumpled. Beside him stood the brilliant Guo Jia, rounding out the council were Xi Zhicai, Jia Kui, the ruthless Cheng Yu, the stubborn Tian Feng, and the opportunistic Xu You.
They were tasked with the impossible, reorganizing a shattered army, incorporating the terrified local Chang'An garrison into the veteran ranks, and constructing a defense capable of repelling an enemy that had just broken the unbreakable Tong Pass.
"The 'Hedgehog Plan' must be accelerated," Xun Yu was saying, his voice a steady, authoritative drone that belied his internal despair. "We cannot match Lie Fan in an open walls siege. Not anymore. We must turn Chang'An into a fortress of spikes. Every street must have a barricade. Every roof must have archers. We make the city swallow them."
"We are bleeding commanders," Tian Feng pointed out gruffly, tapping a wooden baton against the table. "Cao Ren was the anchor of our defensive lines. With him captured in the east, the men are terrified."
"I will anchor the lines."
The voice came from the entrance of the pavilion. The strategists turned as Xiahou Dun strode in. The veteran general was a terrifying sight. He was covered in dried blood and road dust, and the patch over his missing eye seemed to glower with a dark, vengeful intensity. Since Cao Ren's capture, the mantle of Supreme Marshal of the Army had fallen heavily upon his broad shoulders.
"General Xiahou Dun," Xun Yu greeted him with a respectful bow. "Are the garrison troops integrated?"
"They are crying for their mothers, but they are holding spears," Xiahou Dun grunted, stepping up to the map. "I have placed the veterans behind the conscripts. Anyone who runs will be cut down by our own blades before Lie Fan's halberds can reach them. The hedgehog is forming. But Master Xun Yu... even a hedgehog can be crushed if a rock is heavy enough. We need the numbers. We need the west."
Guo Jia, leaning heavily against the table, looked up. His eyes, usually bright with mischievous intellect, were clouded with a deep, unsettling anxiety.
"Xun Yu," Guo Jia said, his voice low. "Has there been any word? Have the Western Garrisons sent their letter indicating when the first batch of their troops will arrive through the Wei River?"
Xun Yu frowned, shuffling through a stack of dispatches on the corner of the table. "Not yet. We received word that they acknowledged the Emperor's command to abandon the Tianshui route and take the river from Canluan. But since then... silence."
"Silence," Guo Jia repeated, the word tasting sour in his mouth. He took a sip of warm water, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.
"Do not panic, Fengxiao," Xun Yu said reasonably, applying his trademark logical analysis to the situation. "Moving two hundred thousand men, securing the boats, organizing the logistics of a river transport... it is a monumental task. They must be entirely preoccupied with executing the maneuvers. To do it fast and steady, they likely immediately began the embarkation and simply forgot, or lacked the couriers, to send progress reports. We will see their vanguard sails on the horizon within the week."
It was a perfectly rational explanation. It made logistical sense. It was the kind of solid reasoning that had won Wei a dozen campaigns in the past.
But Guo Jia slowly shook his head. He looked at the blue line of the Wei River painted on the map, and a cold shiver ran down his spine that had nothing to do with his illness.
"I hope so, Wenruo," Guo Jia whispered, clutching his chest. "By the heavens, I hope your logic is sound. Because I have been having a feeling... a dark, terrible feeling about the west."
He looked around the table at the faces of his colleagues, men who had engineered miracles, now looking like trapped animals.
"I only hope it is just a bad feeling brought on by the damp air," Guo Jia muttered, wiping his brow. "And nothing else. Because if the west fails us... there is no strategy left on this table that can save us."
Unbeknownst to the brilliant minds gathered in that pavilion, their logic was already obsolete. They were calculating the defense of an empire using pieces that had already walked off the board.
They were preparing a hedgehog to fight a dragon, desperately waiting for a shield that had already been forged into a different master's crown. The phantom army of the west would never arrive, and the shadows over Chang'An were only growing darker.
The shadow that had fallen over Chang'an deepened with every passing hour, a creeping frost that chilled the marrow of its defenders.
But while Wei suffocated under the weight of impending doom, a different atmosphere entirely reigned one hundred and fifty miles to the east.
At Tong Pass, the morning sun broke over the jagged peaks of the Qinling Mountains, casting long, golden rays across the conquered fortress. The air here was not thick with despair, but electric with anticipation.
The blood of the recent battle had been washed from the stones, and the groans of the wounded had been replaced by the sharp, metallic symphony of an army preparing for the final kill.
Lie Fan stood atop the highest watchtower of the western gate, his dark cloak billowing in the crisp mountain wind. Below him, the valley was a sea of disciplined motion. Hundreds of thousands of Hengyuan soldiers, veterans of a numerous campaigns, clad in black iron and hardened leather, were breaking camp.
He leaned against the cold stone crenelations, his eyes scanning the intricate dance of logistics.
Supply wagons were being loaded with fresh grain, armorers were striking their hammers against anvils, hammering out the last dents from the fighting, cavalrymen were checking the shoes of their warhorses.
The army was more than well rested. They were a coiled spring, vibrating with the aggressive energy of total victory.
Tong Pass itself was still scarred. Masonry teams were swarming the damaged sections of the outer walls, patching the breaches made by Hengyuan's own siege engines just days prior. But Lie Fan felt no desire to linger until the mortar dried.
"We do not need to waste another hour here," Lie Fan murmured to himself, his gaze fixed on the western horizon, toward the invisible silhouette of Chang'an. "A fortress is only a tool. The real prize is the head of the serpent."
He turned away from the edge and looked toward the stairs. Sima Yi and Zhang Liao, his two most trusted instruments of war, were waiting respectfully a few paces away. Sima Yi looked as immaculate as ever, his mind clearly already racing through the supply routes, while Zhang Liao stood tall, his hand resting casually on the pommel of his sword, practically vibrating with the desire to march.
"Zhongda. Wenyuan," Lie Fan called out, his voice carrying the effortless authority of a man who held the mandate of heaven.
The two men stepped forward instantly, bowing in unison.
"Relay my orders to the entire host," Lie Fan commanded, his eyes gleaming. "The time for rest is over. Tell the quartermasters to finalize the grain distribution by noon. Tell the vanguard commanders to have their men in marching order before sunset. We break camp tonight."
Sima Yi raised an eyebrow slightly. "Tonight, Your Majesty? A night march through the valley?"
"We begin the march toward Chang'an tomorrow, before the dawn breaks," Lie Fan clarified, a predatory smile touching his lips. "I want the vanguard within sight of Chang'An's walls by mid morning. We will arrive while the dew is still on the grass. We will give the men a brief moment to catch their breath, to eat a hot meal just out of bowshot of their walls, and then... we begin the siege. I do not want Cao Cao to have another sunset to prepare his 'hedgehog'."
"Understood, Your Majesty," Zhang Liao said, a fierce grin mirroring his Emperor's. "The men are hungry for it. I will ensure the vanguard is ready to move at the third watch." As Sima Yi and Zhang Liao turned to descend the tower and execute his will, Lie Fan turned back to the vista of his army. The machine was in motion.
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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