“Seeing those yellow banners on the horizon yesterday seriously took half a year off my life,” Jo Fan grumbled, rubbing his still-sore chest. Luckily, the appearance of the remnant Yellow Turban banners in the distance wasn't a direct threat. Using the last of their energy from the caramelized sweet potatoes, Liu Bei's contingent had force-marched through the night to avoid conflict. Now, under the scorching midday sun, they had finally reached their destination. A dilapidated wooden sign, its calligraphy faded, hung crookedly over the city gate. Two characters were written on it: Pingyuan. Jo Fan stared at the scene before him, his mouth half-open. His expectations of a "provincial government center" were instantly crushed. Pingyuan looked more like a landfill than a city. Its earthen walls were cracked and crumbling in several places. The wooden gate was riddled wit

“Dig deeper! The trench isn’t wide enough! Do you all want to become an afternoon snack for a horde of starving rebels?!” Jo Fan’s shrill voice, amplified by his borrowed mini-megaphone, echoed under the scorching Pingyuan sun. The pale-faced young man stood on the dilapidated city wall, yelling at hundreds of sweat-drenched Shu-Han soldiers and local militiamen. Three days. That was the estimated time Guan Yu’s intelligence had given them before the wave of three hundred thousand Yellow Turban refugees washed over their city. Pingyuan had officially been turned into a frenzied construction site. Outside the northern gate, wide, U-shaped trenches were being dug with desperate speed, creating a deadly kill-channel leading directly to the city entrance. Meanwhile, on top of the walls and along the trenches, Zhang Fei was leading soldiers to transport something that looked nothing like a weapon

Close-quarters combat finally erupted uncontrollably at the northern gate of Pingyuan. It wasn't because of a brilliant enemy tactic or sophisticated siege equipment. There were no stone-throwing towers or iron battering rams. What shattered the Shu-Han forces' initial barricade was the sheer, raw weight of tens of thousands of human bodies piling on top of each other, creating a gruesome Ramp of Death. They climbed the corpses of their own comrades. Thin, dry hands with peeling skin gripped the edge of the brick wall. When the spears of the Pingyuan soldiers pierced their chests, they didn't fall. They pulled their own bodies deeper onto the spearheads, just so the person behind them could crawl over their shoulders. “Hold the line! DO NOT FALL BACK!” the Pingyuan militia captain screamed, his voice breaking with absolute panic. In the courtyard just behind the northern gate wall, a pile of starving

The air in front of the northern gate of Pingyuan vanished. Not figuratively, but literally sucked away. The shockwave from the wheat dust explosion didn't produce the sharp, deafening blast of gunpowder. Instead, it sounded like a giant's intake of breath from the depths of the earth. WHOOOOOSSSSHHH! Followed by a blast of superheated air moving at supersonic speed. On the city wall, Jo Fan held on tightly to the stonework. An incredible heat washed over his face, singeing the tips of his bangs. In the courtyard below, Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei were thrown back by the gust of hot wind that burst through the broken gate. Then, a strange silence fell over the trap trench. “Ugh… my ears are ringing…” Zhang Fei grumbled, forcing himself up from the dusty ground. The giant gripped his Serpent Spear, preparing to face the human sea

CRASH! The weathered wooden table in the middle of the Pingyuan Town Hall finally shattered into pieces. A massive blow from Zhang Fei’s fist reduced the wood to splinters that scattered across the room. “COWARDLY SCUM!” Zhang Fei roared, his voice thundering so loudly it made the rickety town hall roof shake and drop dust. The veins on his dark neck bulged like tree roots. “How dare he hide behind the cries of women and children?! Let me go there right now, Brother! I’ll tear Guan Hai’s mouth from ear to ear!” Guan Yu stood frozen by the window, his sharp, narrowed eyes radiating a blood-chilling killing intent. However, the God of War did not draw his guandao. His hands were just clenched tightly behind his back. “Calm yourself, Third Brother. Your anger will not extinguish the fire surrounding those five thousand hostages,” Guan Yu said in a he