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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The sky darkening Hwachas were wheeled to the flanks. With a deafening, shrieking roar, thousands of rocket propelled arrows were launched simultaneously. They arced high into the island sky, trailing thick gray smoke, before plunging down into the dense concentrations of native defenders. The explosive payloads detonated upon impact, completely blanketing the samurai formations in blinding fire and jagged iron shrapnel.
Entire companies of brave warriors were vaporized in a matter of seconds, their ancestral banners burning to ash before they even hit the muddy ground.
When the local warlords attempted to hole up in their elevated wooden fortresses, relying on their deep dry moats and thick timber walls for protection, the mainlanders simply brought forward the heavy artillery. The deafening heavy Cannons, cast from pure iron and belching black powder, roared to life. Their massive iron balls shattered the thickest wooden gates into millions of lethal splinters.
Alongside them, the massive armor piercing Ballistas launched steel tipped bolts the size of small trees, pinning fully armored samurai to the walls of their own keeps. The towering Trebuchets, assembled on site by the combat engineers, hurled massive payloads of flaming pitch and heavy boulders, crushing the thatched roofs and collapsing the watchtowers with terrifying ease.
But it was the close quarters horrors that truly broke the spirit of the islanders. In the narrow mountain passes where the heavy artillery could not reach, the Hengyuan vanguards deployed the terrifying Fierce Fire Oil Cabinet. Yamato Warriors waiting in ambush were suddenly engulfed in unquenchable liquid fire that stuck to their armor and burned right through to the bone.
The screams of burning men echoed through the valleys, a sound that would haunt the survivors for the rest of their lives. And near the river crossings, the bone crushing Water Dragon pressure pumps were used to literally wash away defensive formations, the highly concentrated, incredibly fast streams of water snapping limbs and shattering ribs with sheer kinetic force.
These are horrifying, god like weapons they have never seen before in their isolated history. The Yamato warriors had spent centuries perfecting the art of the sword, believing that martial skill and a pure spirit determined the victor of any battle. Facing this mechanized, industrialized slaughter inflicted huge, lasting psychological trauma upon the island's warriors. Their worldview was violently torn apart. They realized that their courage meant absolutely nothing against a cannonball.
Seeing the sheer, absolute futility of the slaughter, many of them also wisely chose to drop their weapons and surrender on the battlefield.
It was a deeply humiliating act, completely contrary to their warrior code, but the instinct to survive overpowered their honor. Entire battalions of samurai, covered in the soot of explosive rockets and the blood of their comrades, fell to their knees in the mud, throwing their curved swords away and bowing their heads to the advancing columns of black-armored mainlanders.
The surrendered Yamato warriors, whose ranks ranged from the lowest, terrified peasant footmen up to some highly experienced, battle scarred middle level commanders, were immediately bound, disarmed, and dragged to the rear of the Hengyuan formations. They were not executed. Instead, they were swiftly interrogated by the bilingual Goguryeo scholars within the heavily guarded command pavilions.
The native commanders, completely broken by the apocalyptic firepower they had just witnessed, offered no resistance. Believing they had been conquered by literal demons sent from the underworld, they spilled their secrets willingly, giving incredibly good, highly detailed military intelligence to their captors.
Standing before Sima Yi, Guo Jia, Xi Zhicai, and Jia Kui, a captured mid level Yamato commander pointed a trembling, bruised finger at a sprawling, hand drawn map of the archipelago on the table.
Through the calm, efficient translation of the Goguryeo scholars, they revealed to their captors that the Yamato kingdom actually has powerful, deeply entrenched allies to the north.
"They say that this island, Kyushu, is only the beginning, my Lords," the translator explained, relaying the captive's frantic words. "The true breadth of their allies lies across the northern straits, in the massive, sprawling island of Honshu."
The strategists leaned in, their eyes scanning the blank spaces on their own imperial maps.
"Honshu is a chaotic, vast land," the translator continued, pointing to the northeast. "It currently still has many fractured kingdoms, rogue warlords, and fierce native tribes constantly fighting over territory. But despite their infighting, they are heavily tied by blood and ancient alliances to the Yamato King. The captive says that if pushed to the absolute brink, if this capital in the northeast of Kyushu falls, the Yamato royal family could possibly move and flee there."
Sima Yi's eyes narrowed into cold, calculating slits. "An evacuation. They would abandon their ancestral seat to survive."
"Exactly, Lord Sima," the translator confirmed. "They would use the treacherous naval currents of the straits to cover their retreat, and establish a long term, mountainous resistance deep within the impenetrable valleys of Honshu. It would be a war of attrition that could last for decades."
But the captive commander was not finished. Desperate to prove his worth and perhaps spare his own life, he disclosed another, far more crucial piece of geopolitical information that completely changed the landscape of the invasion.
"There is another power, greater than the fractured tribes of Honshu," the translator said, his own voice dropping to a hushed, reverent tone as he listened to the captive. "The Yamatai."
Guo Jia, swirling a cup of warm wine, stopped entirely. "The Shaman Queen."
"Yes," the translator nodded rapidly. "The captive reveals that the Yamatai, which could actually be the strongest, most prosperous, and most heavily populated kingdom currently existing in the Wa archipelago, are not located on Honshu."
The captive commander pointed to a different, massive landmass to the east of Kyushu, situated beneath the belly of Honshu.
"They are securely located on the eastern island of Shikoku," the translator explained. "They are protected by treacherous whirlpools and a massive, fanatically loyal fleet. And right now... they are simply watching the war unfold. Queen Himiko has not sent a single warrior to aid the Yamato King. She is waiting to see if the mainland demons bleed, or if they conquer."
Receiving this highly valuable, game changing intelligence, the four brilliant strategists dismissed the captive with a wave of their hands. As the guards dragged the Yamato commander away, the four men immediately gathered around their sprawling maps.
The parameters of the invasion had just radically shifted. They were no longer just marching in a straight line; they were playing a three dimensional game of geopolitical Go across an entire archipelago.
"If the Yamato King escapes to Honshu, we will be fighting ghosts in the mountains for ten years," Xi Zhicai stated, his mind rapidly calculating the logistical nightmare of a protracted guerrilla war. "We cannot allow the royal family to cross that strait."
"Then we cut the head off the snake before it can slither away," Sima Yi declared, picking up a red ink brush and drawing a thick circle around the northern coast of Kyushu. "We order Admirals Zhou Yu and Gan Ning to take the steam ships. We bypass the coastal skirmishes and send the fleet directly to the northern straits. We blockade the crossing. We trap the King on this island, and we crush him against our advancing infantry."
"And what of the Shaman Queen?" Jia Kui asked, looking at the eastern island of Shikoku. "If Yamatai is truly the most prosperous kingdom, they have the manpower to flank us while we are dealing with the Honshu remnants."
Guo Jia let out a chaotic, delighted laugh, coughing slightly into his sleeve. "Oh, we don't fight the Shaman Queen. Not yet. We send an envoy. A heavily armed envoy, perhaps. We let her watch us burn the Yamato King to ashes. We show her that her gods are powerless against our cannons. Once Yamato falls, Yamatai will realize that isolation is no longer an option. She will either submit to the Dragon Throne willingly, or we will turn her prosperous island into a testing ground for the new weapons."
They began to come up with completely new, grand tactical ideas, rapidly drafting orders for Zhang Liao to redirect the heavy cavalry, and sending fast rider messengers back to the newly built docks to coordinate with the returning naval fleets.
They were going to seamlessly handle all of this shifting island warfare, weave a net around Kyushu, and entirely prevent the enemy from escaping.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away from the blood soaked mud, the screaming rockets, and the dense bamboo forests of Yamato, the heart of the Hengyuan Dynasty beat with a completely different kind of rhythm.
Back on the mainland, at the bustling, infinitely wealthy Capital of Xiapi, the atmosphere was not one of destruction, but of triumphant, world altering creation. The sky above the sprawling city was clear, save for the thick, continuous plumes of dark smoke rising from the massive industrial sector on the outskirts of the city.
Lie Fan, having temporarily set aside the towering stacks of agricultural reports regarding the northern steppes integration, was currently standing deep inside the heavily guarded, scorching confines of the Imperial Workshop.
The heat inside the massive stone facility was oppressive, vibrating with the continuous roar of blast furnaces and the rhythmic, deafening striking of massive, steam-powered trip hammers shaping red hot steel. But Lie Fan didn't mind the heat or the sweat soaking through his dark, informal silk robes. He was eagerly meeting with the brilliant engineering quartet who had been the true architects of his empire's technological supremacy.
Standing before him, their faces smudged with black soot and grease, but their eyes shining with an absolute, manic pride, Huang Yue Ying, Huang Chengyan, Liu Ye, and Zhuge Liang.
Lie Fan had rushed there directly from his quiet palace study, completely abandoning a meeting with Lu Su the Minister of Rites. He had done so because he was happily informed by a breathless, soot stained Oriole messenger that a monumental milestone had finally been achieved.
"Your Majesty," Huang Yue Ying began, stepping forward and wiping a streak of oil from her forehead with the back of her heavy leather glove. She looked exhausted, having clearly not slept properly in days, but her smile was radiant.
"We have done it," she announced, her voice ringing clear over the background noise of the foundries.
After countless explosive prototypes that had sent lethal shrapnel flying across the testing pits, and after months of rigorous, incredibly dangerous testing phases that had pushed the era's understanding of metallurgy to its absolute breaking point, the handheld flintlocks and the devastating infantry blunderbuss have finally been perfected.
Zhuge Liang stepped forward, holding a beautifully crafted, long rectangular wooden box lined with deep red velvet. He opened it carefully, presenting the contents to the Emperor.
Inside rested the final, perfected iterations of the weapons. They were no longer crude, dangerous prototypes. The iron barrels had been replaced with heavily refined, folded steel, gleaming with a dark, oiled perfection. The flintlock mechanisms were intricate works of mechanical art, utilizing high tension, perfectly tempered steel springs that would not snap under pressure. The wooden stocks were carved from dense, shock absorbing walnut, ergonomically designed to handle the massive recoil.
"They are safely made, Your Majesty," Huang Chengyan explained, gesturing to the sleek steel barrels. "We solved the pressure ruptures. By incorporating a revolutionary sleeve forging technique Liu Ye adapted from the heavy cannons, the breeches can now withstand triple the required explosive force of the black powder. A soldier can rapid fire these weapons until the barrel glows red, and they will not burst in his hands."
Lie Fan reached out, his calloused hands gently lifting the sleek flintlock pistol from the velvet. The weapon felt incredibly balanced, a terrifying concentration of lethal power resting comfortably in his palm. He pulled back the hammer, the mechanism clicked into place with a sharp, flawlessly smooth, and deeply satisfying sound.
"It is beautiful," Lie Fan murmured, his visionary eyes seeing past the polished steel and wood, envisioning tens of thousands of his infantrymen marching in unbreakable lines, unleashing continuous, rolling volleys of lead that no armor on earth could stop.
Liu Ye, grinning widely, gestured toward the heavy, flared barrel of the blunderbuss resting next to the pistol. "The blunderbuss has been equally reinforced, Your Majesty. It can comfortably fire a payload of jagged iron scraps and lead balls that will completely shred an unarmored cavalry charge at twenty paces. It is the ultimate soldiers clearer."
With immense, justified pride, the four engineers stepped back and bowed simultaneously. They formally invited their Emperor to leave the sweltering heat of the workshop and personally see its highly anticipated, historic live fire demonstration.
"The targets have been set up in the secured proving grounds, Your Majesty," Zhuge Liang said, his eyes meeting Lie Fan's with a shared understanding of how radically the world was about to change. "We have prepared armor plates identical to the thickest lamellar worn by our soldiers, and the heavy iron chainmail of the western desert tribes."
Lie Fan smiled, a wide, predatory grin that promised the absolute subjugation of the known world. He gently placed the pistol back into the velvet box and nodded.
"Lead the way," the Emperor commanded, his voice vibrating with boundless ambition.
Lie Fan knew he was not just about to watch a simple weapons test. He was about to witness the permanent obsolescence of the sword, the spear, and the bow. This demonstration was marking a terrifying new dawn for Hengyuan's already unmatched military might.
Stepping out from the sweltering, oppressive heat of the foundries and into the highly secured, open air firing range located just behind the sprawling complex of the Imperial Workshop, Emperor Lie Fan stood alongside his brilliant engineers to witness the birth of a new era.
The proving grounds were vast, surrounded by incredibly thick earthen berms and high stone walls to prevent any stray projectiles from escaping into the capital. At the far end of the range, exactly fifty paces away, a series of terrifyingly realistic targets had been meticulously set up by the imperial guards.
There were thick wooden stakes dressed in the heavy, layered iron chainmail worn by the fierce desert tribes of the west. Next to them stood solid oak mannequins clad in overlapping, high carbon steel plates, perfectly mimicking the absolute thickest, most impenetrable lamellar armor utilized by Hengyuan's own elite heavy infantry and the Yamato warlords.
Lie Fan stood with his arms crossed behind his back, his dark silk robes fluttering in the gentle afternoon breeze. Beside him, Huang Yue Ying, Huang Chengyan, Liu Ye, and Zhuge Liang watched with bated breath as a squad of specially trained imperial guardsmen stepped up to the firing line.
The guardsmen were handed the newly perfected weapons. Five men held the sleek, polished steel flintlock pistols, while another five hoisted the massive, heavy stock blunderbusses, resting the flared iron barrels against their shoulders.
"Present arms!" Liu Ye barked the command, his voice echoing across the silent dirt field.
The guardsmen raised the weapons in perfect unison, aiming directly at the armored mannequins.
"Fire!"
What followed was a sensory overload of apocalyptic proportions. A deafening, thunderous roar erupted from the firing line, a series of sharp, overlapping cracks that sounded as though the sky itself was being violently torn in half. A brilliant, blinding flash of orange and yellow fire instantly erupted from the muzzles and the flash pans of the weapons. Almost immediately, a thick, acrid cloud of white sulfurous smoke billowed into the air, rolling across the firing line and completely obscuring the guardsmen from view.
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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