The moment Sun Jian's army began to move, Chang'an was already no longer a city of order.
It had become a furnace.
From the southern gate to the eastern walls, flames rose in layers—like the city itself was shedding its skin.
Steel clashed against steel.
Shouts overlapped with screams.
And the once-imposing capital of the Han dynasty… was breaking apart from within.
Sun Jian stood on the watchtower, his grip tightening on his Ancient Ingot Blade.
His eyes widened as he stared into the chaos.
"…This isn't a siege anymore."
General Huang Gai didn't answer immediately.
Even he—seasoned through countless battles—felt a rare tightening in his chest.
Because what they were seeing…
was not an assault from outside.
It was collapse from inside.
A messenger arrived breathless.
"Lord! Marquis Xuanwei has already entered the city!"
Sun Jian froze.
Then—
his expression twisted between disbelief and exhilaration.
"He's already in?!"
He slammed his fist into the railing.
"Why didn't he tell me?! Am I Sun Jian or some idle spectator?!"
Huang Gai sighed. "My lord…"
But Sun Jian wasn't truly angry.
His eyes burned instead with something far more intense.
Excitement.
"Fine," he said suddenly, turning sharply. "If he's already inside…"
He raised his blade.
"Then we won't be left behind!"
At the eastern and northern districts of Chang'an—
the situation had already spiraled beyond control.
The West Garden Army rushed in confusion.
The Northern Army tried to form ranks—but found enemies already among them.
And the defenders of Chang'an, once disciplined under Dong Zhuo's authority…
were now fighting shadows in every direction.
"Rebellion!"
"No—it's an invasion!"
"Where is the commander?!"
"South gate is lost!"
"East gate is burning!"
The city, once unified under iron rule, had fractured into isolated islands of resistance.
And every island… was drowning.
Inside Chang'an's streets, Yu Jin's formation pressed forward like a grinding wheel.
Xu He's Qingzhou soldiers followed, tightening the noose.
On the walls, Zhao Yun's cavalry had already cut off retreat routes, turning streets into traps.
And in the south—
Dian Wei moved like a storm given form.
No formation.
No hesitation.
Only destruction.
Zhang Xin stood at the center of it all, unmoving.
The sound of war surrounded him, but his expression remained calm—almost detached.
Yang Yi stood slightly behind him, fists clenched.
"This city…" Yang Yi whispered, almost in disbelief, "is really falling…"
Zhang Xin did not answer immediately.
Then he spoke softly:
"Not falling."
A pause.
"Being taken apart."
Another wave of shouting surged from the distance.
A part of the Northern Army broke entirely, fleeing into burning streets.
Sun Jian's troops finally entered from the east.
Huang Gai's forces followed closely.
The moment they stepped into Chang'an proper—
they understood.
This was no longer a coordinated campaign.
It was a collapse.
A chain reaction of fear, confusion, and overwhelming force.
Sun Jian laughed suddenly.
"Good!"
He raised his blade high.
"So this is Chang'an!"
Then his expression sharpened.
"Brothers! Follow me—don't let Zhang Xin take all the glory!"
The battlefield surged again.
But by now—
it was no longer about defense.
It was about survival.
At the northern gate, flames lit the sky red.
At the eastern gate, formations crumbled.
At the southern gate, Zhang Xin's forces advanced like a tide that could no longer be held back.
And in the imperial heart of Chang'an—
the sound of shouting finally reached the palace walls.
Emperor Xian stood frozen in the corridor, his hands trembling.
Outside—
the world he had never controlled…
was finally breaking open.
And as the night deepened—
Chang'an, the capital that had stood for generations…
was no longer resisting.
It was being conquered.