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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The Hengyuan generals were pressing the attack, their strikes growing heavier, their smiles growing wider. They could taste the victory. The dam was cracking. The Wei defense was bending to the absolute breaking point. No top tier general had fallen yet, but the air was thick with the inevitable promise that soon, the blood of legends would stain the ancient stones of Chang'an.
The air atop the inner fortress wall was a suffocating miasma of pulverized stone, burning pitch, and the coppery stench of spilled blood. The battle had devolved from a grand tactical siege into a terrifyingly intimate, claustrophobic meat grinder.
The cacophony of war, the screaming of dying men, the splintering of wooden shields, the metallic screech of tearing armor, and the relentless, rhythmic thud of Hengyuan boots advancing, created a symphony of absolute destruction.
For the Wei generals, every second felt like an eternity of agonizing exertion. Their muscles burned with the buildup of lactic acid, their lungs heaved desperately for oxygen that tasted of ash, and their hands were slick with sweat and gore inside their gauntlets.
They were the finest martial talents Cao Cao had ever assembled, men who had conquered the northern plains and broken countless rebellions. But today, they were fighting against an unstoppable tide, a pantheon of martial gods who seemed entirely immune to fatigue.
The Hengyuan generals were pressing the attack with a joyous, terrifying ferocity. The surplus of legends under Lie Fan's banner meant that while the Wei generals were forced to fight flawlessly just to survive the next breath, their opponents could afford to take risks, to press their overwhelming advantage, to smile as they swung their weapons.
The dam, which had been groaning under the immense pressure, finally began to crack.
The first to fall were Gao Lan and Yu Jin. They had been fighting a desperate, localized war of attrition against Gao Shun and his silent, terrifying Camp Crushers.
The Hengyuan elite heavy infantry did not fight as individuals, they moved as a single, multi headed beast of iron and spiked shields. Yu Jin, a master tactician, screamed orders until his throat was raw, trying to find a weak point, a seam in the advancing phalanx. But there were no seams.
Gao Shun, his face an emotionless mask of cold duty, recognized the exhaustion in the Wei commanders. With a sharp, guttural bark, he ordered the 'Crushing Vise' maneuver. The Camp Crushers suddenly surged forward, stepping in perfect unison. A massive, iron banded tower shield slammed directly into Gao Lan's chest, the sheer kinetic force lifting the veteran spearman off his feet.
As Gao Lan stumbled backward, gasping for air, two Hengyuan swordsmen stepped out from behind the shield wall. One struck the shaft of Gao Lan's spear, shattering the wood, while the other drove the heavy pommel of his sword into the side of Gao Lan's helmet.
Gao Lan's eyes rolled back, his consciousness scattering into the dark. He collapsed to the blood-slicked stones, entirely incapacitated.
"Gao Lan!" Yu Jin roared, abandoning his defensive posture to rush to his comrade's aid. It was a fatal mistake. By breaking his stance, he exposed his flank. Gao Shun himself stepped into the breach, sweeping his heavy, curved blade in a low arc that bit deeply into the unarmored back of Yu Jin's knee.
Yu Jin let out a cry of agony, his leg buckling beneath him. Before he could even attempt to raise his broadsword from his kneeling position, the Camp Crushers swarmed over him.
Heavy iron boots stepped on his wrists, pinning his arms to the ground, while rough hands stripped the weapon from his grasp. In a matter of seconds, two of Wei's most seasoned commanders were disarmed, bound with thick hemp ropes, and dragged unceremoniously to the rear of the Hengyuan lines as prisoners of war.
The collapse of their sector sent a shockwave of panic down the Wei defensive line.
A few dozen yards away, the situation was equally catastrophic for the Cao kinsmen. Cao Xiu and Cao Chun, the proud commanders of the Tiger and Leopard Cavalry, were being systematically dismantled by Taishi Ci and Chen Dao.
The Wei cousins fought with the desperate, synchronized fury of cornered wolves, their swords weaving a desperate net of steel. But Taishi Ci was simply too fast.
Wielding his twin rod hammers, Taishi Ci fought with a fluid, blinding rhythm that defied anticipation. He didn't just parry their strikes, he guided them, forcing Cao Xiu and Cao Chun to overextend.
"You fight well for cavalrymen," Taishi Ci noted coldly, sidestepping a frantic lunge from Cao Xiu. "But you belong in the saddle, not on a wall."
With a flick of his wrists, Taishi Ci hooked the crossguard of Cao Xiu's sword with the head of his left rod hammer, wrenching the weapon downward with unnatural strength. Simultaneously, he spun, bringing his right rod hammer around in a devastating, blurring arc.
He didn't aim for the head or the chest, he aimed for the weapon arm. The heavy iron head of the hammer smashed into Cao Xiu's forearm, shattering the radius and ulna bones with a sickening crunch.
Cao Xiu screamed, his sword dropping from his useless, mangled hand. He fell to his knees, clutching his shattered arm to his chest.
Seeing his cousin fall, Cao Chun roared in pure, unadulterated grief and rage. He abandoned all defense, raising his sword for a suicidal, two handed downward strike aimed at Taishi Ci's skull. But he had forgotten about Chen Dao.
Chen Dao, ever the disciplined, opportunistic predator, stepped smoothly into the massive opening Cao Chun had just created. He drove the butt of his heavy spear directly into Cao Chun's solar plexus, expelling the air from the Wei commander's lungs in a violent rush. As Cao Chun doubled over, gagging for breath, Chen Dao swept the man's legs out from under him.
Hengyuan halberdiers immediately rushed forward, pressing the curved blades of their weapons against the throats of the fallen Cao kinsmen. They were hauled to their feet, disarmed, and bound, their faces pale with shock and the agonizing pain of their injuries. Two more pillars of the Wei army had fallen.
The sheer density of the Hengyuan talent pool was suffocating. Further down the battlements, the majestic Guan Yu was putting on a terrifying clinic of martial supremacy against Pang De and Zhang He.
Pang De, a man whose loyalty and stubborn courage were legendary, refused to yield an inch. Even as he watched the defensive lines crumbling around him, he pressed his attack, his twin halberds striking out in a frenzy of desperate blows. But Guan Yu remained an immovable mountain.
"Your loyalty is commendable," Guan Yu intoned, his voice rumbling over the din of battle like distant thunder. He casually deflected a two handed overhead strike from Pang De, not even breaking a sweat. "But your cause is doomed. Yield, and preserve your honor."
"I would rather die a ghost of Wei than live as a dog of Hengyuan!" Pang De roared, his face purple with exertion as he launched himself forward again.
Guan Yu's eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his noble features. "Then sleep."
Instead of using the razor sharp edge of his Green Dragon Crescent Blade, Guan Yu flipped the massive polearm in his hands with terrifying speed. He sidestepped Pang De's frantic thrust and brought the flat, heavy side of the massive blade swinging around like a battering ram. The impact against the side of Pang De's iron helmet rang out like a struck bell.
The concussive force was absolute. Pang De's eyes immediately glassed over. His weapons slipped from his fingers, and he crumpled to the stone walkway like a puppet with its strings cut, entirely unconscious before he even hit the ground. Hengyuan soldiers immediately swarmed forward to secure the fallen titan.
Seeing Pang De fall, and recognizing the absolute futility of continuing the engagement against a monster like Guan Yu, Zhang He made the only tactical decision left to him. He was a survivor, a man who valued his life and his ability to fight another day over a pointless, suicidal last stand.
As Guan Yu turned his imposing gaze toward him, Zhang He executed a blindingly fast, multi thrust feint. It wasn't meant to kill, it was meant to buy a fraction of a second.
As Guan Yu raised his blade to parry the flurry, Zhang He used the momentum of his own strikes to throw himself backward. He executed a flawless, desperate backflip, landing several yards away, instantly turning and sprinting toward the inner stairs leading down to the palace courtyards.
The defensive line was in complete, catastrophic freefall.
In the center of the maelstrom, Xiahou Dun was locked in a grueling, sparks flying duel with Zhang Liao. The Grand Marshal of Wei fought with the fury of a dying star, his broadsword rising and falling in heavy, punishing arcs. But Zhang Liao was merely toying with him, parrying the exhausted strikes with predatory ease.
Through the haze of smoke and his own sweat, Xiahou Dun's singular eye caught the peripheral horrors unfolding along the wall. He saw the Camp Crushers binding Gao Lan and Yu Jin. He saw the bloodied forms of Cao Xiu and Cao Chun being dragged away. He saw Pang De fall to Guan Yu's blade, and he saw Zhang He fleeing for his life.
The realization hit Xiahou Dun with the force of a physical blow. The inner fortress wall was lost. The cream of the Wei military had just been harvested in a matter of minutes. If he stayed to fight to the death here, there would be no one left to command the remnants of the army guarding the Emperor's palace.
Xiahou Dun roared, a sound of absolute, soul crushing despair. He swung his broadsword in a massive, horizontal arc that forced Zhang Liao to finally take a full step backward.
"Fall back!" Xiahou Dun bellowed, his voice tearing at his vocal cords, desperately trying to project over the chaotic roar of the Hengyuan advance. "Abandon the walls! Fall back to the palace gates! Retreat!"
He didn't wait to see if his orders were followed. Xiahou Dun spun on his heel, his heavy armor clanking, and sprinted toward the nearest stone stairwell. Along the way, he managed to grab the exhausted, bleeding Xu Huang, who was barely holding off the combined assault of Zhang Fei and Meng Huo.
"Come on, you stubborn fool! The wall is lost!" Xiahou Dun roared, pulling Xu Huang along with him.
Together with Zhang He and a handful of terrified, surviving Royal Guards, the remnants of the Wei high command scrambled down the dark, narrow stone steps, abandoning the high ground of the inner fortress wall to the victorious roars of the Hengyuan vanguard.
The Black Dragon banners were immediately planted upon the blood soaked parapets, snapping triumphantly in the wind. The last true physical barrier protecting the heart of the Wei Dynasty had fallen.
Far below the carnage of the battlements, deep within the sprawling, opulent complex of the imperial palace, an atmosphere of suffocating dread had settled over the Great Hall.
This was the safe place where Cao Pi and his retinue of brilliant advisors had retreated to coordinate the defense.
The hall was a masterpiece of Han architecture, boasting towering lacquered pillars adorned with golden dragons, intricate jade carvings, and a ceiling painted with the constellations of the heavens. It was designed to project absolute, unshakeable power. Today, it felt like a gilded tomb.
Cao Pi paced frantically across the polished wooden floorboards, his footsteps echoing sharply in the vast, silent room. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, his knuckles white. The heavy, ceremonial armor he wore felt like a lead weight pressing down on his chest.
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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