Hijacking the Three Kingdoms with My System

Chapter 14: The Price of a Prophecy at Bian River

A thick fog shrouded the trees like a giant burial shroud. The dusk air around the Bian River valley felt damp, cold, and smelled of moss. Liu Bei’s small army moved like a line of shadows, their horses’ steps muffled by the muddy ground and decaying leaves.

At the very front of the column, Jo Fan suddenly pulled his reins.

“Stop. Everyone stop!” Jo Fan hissed sharply, raising his right hand.

Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei, who were right behind him, reflexively reined in their horses. The sound of scraping leather armor and the heavy breathing of horses broke the silence for a moment before the three-thousand-man formation behind them froze as well.

“What is it, Master Jo?” Liu Bei asked in a hushed voice. His eyes scanned the fog ahead, searching for a threat, but he saw nothing. “Do you sense something?”

Jo Fan didn’t answer immediately. His eyes, red from sleep deprivation and the espresso sachet, were staring blankly into the air. Of course, to the Three Brothers, he looked like he was being possessed by an ancestral spirit. In reality, Jo Fan was glaring at a blue holographic screen flashing aggressively in front of his face.

On his 3D system map, the topography of the valley ahead formed a very narrow ‘U’ shape. And on the cliffs flanking the path, hundreds of red dots glowed brightly, blinking like a sea of demonic eyes waiting for their prey.

“Boss… we can’t go through the valley floor,” Jo Fan finally said, his voice low but filled with absolute tension. He turned to Liu Bei. “There’s a narrow valley up ahead. Steep cliffs on the left and right. And on top of those cliffs, there are tens of thousands of men hanging out with bows and rocks.”

Guan Yu frowned, stroking his long beard suspiciously. “How can you know that? Our scouts haven’t even returned from their reconnaissance of the front line.”

“You don’t need scouts when you have radar… I mean, a heavenly instinct, General Guan,” Jo Fan replied quickly, scrambling for an excuse that would sound plausible to ancient ears. “The air ahead is too quiet. No crickets, no birds. The killing intent is so thick it’s giving me goosebumps.”

Zhang Fei snorted, his dark face impatient. “So what if there’s an ambush? Let’s just charge through! My spear is hungry!”

“You want to ram your head into a cliff, Master Zhang?!” Jo Fan snapped, rolling his eyes. “This isn’t a marketplace brawl. This is a fishnet tactic. Once you’re in, you’ll be showered with arrows from above until your body looks like a porcupine!”

“But, Master Jo,” Liu Bei interjected, his expression turning to one of panic. “If the path ahead is a death trap… what about the Wei Army? Cao Cao just took this route a few hours ago!”

Jo Fan fell silent. He looked at the trail of Cao Cao’s cavalry on his system map, which led straight into the center of the swarm of red dots.

Suddenly, a strong night wind blew from the direction of the valley, momentarily clearing the fog. And with that wind came a terrifying sound.

WHOOSH! THWANG! THWANG! AAAAAARGH!

Faint, yet unmistakably clear. The sounds of clashing steel, panicked horses, and the screams of thousands of men being slaughtered echoed off the cliffs of Bian River.

Zhang Fei’s bored expression instantly brightened. His eyes widened with excitement. “Brother! Do you hear that?! The sound of a massacre! That arrogant little runt really walked into a trap!”

“Cao Mengde…” Guan Yu murmured, narrowing his eyes toward the fog. “His arrogance overcame his caution. He was in too much of a hurry to chase Dong Zhuo and forgot to secure the high ground.”

Liu Bei immediately drew his twin swords, his face radiating pure, knightly resolve. “We can’t just stand by! Cao Cao is our ally in the Coalition. Thousands of Han soldiers are being slaughtered down there. Army! Prepare to—"

“WAIT!” Jo Fan yelled, cutting off Liu Bei’s command harshly.

“What is it now, Advisor?!” Zhang Fei roared, the veins on his neck bulging. “You’re the one who said we were going to be ‘Elite Scavengers’ and save his life to make him indebted to us! Now is the time to go down!”

“Go down where?! Into the valley to die with him?!” Jo Fan shot back, just as fiercely. He looked at the three giants in turn. “Listen to me carefully, the ones slaughtering Cao Cao down there aren’t your average grunts. The system… I mean, my calculations say it must be the elite Xiliang army led by Xu Rong. Dong Zhuo’s most sadistic veteran general!”

Jo Fan bit his lower lip, his mind working at maximum speed. A dark thought suddenly crossed his mind. A thought that made his own blood run cold.

What if I just let Cao Cao die here?

He knew history. Cao Cao would become the greatest tyrant of this era. He was Liu Bei’s future nemesis, the man who would slaughter millions in Xuzhou, and the greatest threat to the Shu-Han faction.

If Jo Fan did nothing and let history take a different turn today… Cao Cao dies. The biggest threat is gone. The state of Wei would never be formed. Liu Bei might have a much easier path to becoming Emperor.

The blue system screen suddenly flashed in the corner of his eye.

[Warning: Host is evaluating the 'Assassination by Omission' option.]

[Host's morality has plummeted to the level of a corrupt politician.]

[Analyzing 'Butterfly Effect' Calculation: If Cao Cao dies today, Yuan Shao's faction will monopolize Northern China without opposition. Worse, Lu Bu and Dong Zhuo will have no worthy adversary to weaken them. Liu Bei's faction, currently categorized as 'Homeless and Broke,' will be crushed in less than two years.]

Jo Fan swallowed hard. The damn system’s analysis was right.

Killing Cao Cao now was like unleashing other, far more uncontrollable monsters. The history of the Three Kingdoms was a giant, self-balancing chessboard. If one king died too early, small pawns like Liu Bei’s faction would be instantly trampled. He needed Cao Cao alive to be the ‘tank’ that would absorb the aggression of Lu Bu and Yuan Shao in the future.

Jo Fan’s mindset instantly shifted. He was no longer thinking like a college student trying to survive day by day. He was starting to think like a Grand Strategist. He was playing chess with the gods of history.

“Master Jo? Why are you so quiet?” Liu Bei asked, noticing his advisor had zoned out with a pale face. “Are we helping him or retreating?”

“We’re helping him, Boss,” Jo Fan finally answered, his voice heavy and cold.

Zhang Fei spat on the muddy ground. “Hmph! What for?! Just let that red-robed bastard die! He’s always insulting us! If he dies, that’s one less rival for Brother!”

“Are you thinking with your muscles or your kneecaps, Master Zhang?!” Jo Fan retorted fiercely, poking Zhang Fei in the chest. “Do you think if Cao Cao dies, Dong Zhuo will just stop? No! They’ll turn around and crush our three thousand men! And Yuan Shao? He’ll be overjoyed that his biggest rival is gone, and then he’ll declare himself emperor!”

Jo Fan turned to Liu Bei, who was listening intently.

“Boss, in this broken world, the enemy of our enemy is our friend,” Jo Fan explained, his tone low but piercing. “Cao Cao is a devil. Yes, I know that. But he’s the devil we need to fight bigger monsters. If we let him die here, the balance of the heavens is destroyed. We’ll be ganged up on and killed by all the other crazy nobles.”

Guan Yu nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing in appreciation. “Your thinking is profound. You are not looking at today’s battle, but the war ten years from now. I agree with Advisor Jo.”

“Then what is your plan?” Liu Bei asked, completely surrendering command to Jo Fan. “If we cannot attack from below, how do we save him?”

Jo Fan gave a crooked, cynical smile that was quickly becoming his trademark. “We cheat, Boss. We’re not going down into the valley. We’re going up the cliff.”

“To the enemy’s position?!” Zhang Fei was shocked.

“Exactly,” Jo Fan nodded. “The enemy is busy having a slaughter party aimed downwards. Their backs on top of the cliff must be wide open. We’ll crawl up there, find their blind spot, and give them a surprise attack.”

Without wasting another moment, Liu Bei gave a hand signal. The small force left their noisy horses tied up among the trees and began to climb the steep, forested slope on foot.

Jo Fan, with his pathetic stamina, had to be dragged by the collar of his shirt by Zhang Fei just to keep up with the Three Brothers. Jo Fan’s breathing sounded like a broken whistle, and his lungs felt like they were about to explode.

“I… swear… after this… I’m claiming health insurance from the system,” Jo Fan cursed between ragged breaths.

After half an hour of climbing in the fog-shrouded darkness, they finally reached the cliff’s edge. The smell of fresh blood immediately assaulted their nostrils, so thick it nearly made Jo Fan vomit up the espresso he’d just drunk.

Liu Bei, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Jo Fan crawled on their bellies, close to the rocky ground. They peeked from behind the bushes growing at the edge of the steep cliff.

The scene below was not a battle. It was a giant slaughterhouse.

The Bian River valley was illuminated by thousands of torches and flaming arrows launched from the opposite cliff. Xu Rong’s ambush force was executing their task perfectly.

At the bottom of the narrow, muddy valley, the elite Wei cavalry, who had been so proud when they left the Coalition camp, were now trapped, unable to move forward or backward. Piles of dead horses and soldiers blocked the path. Blood flowed freely, mixing with the murky river water to become a blackish red.

Wei soldiers screamed in agony as arrows pierced their armor. Some tried to climb the cliffs to retaliate, only to be crushed by head-sized boulders rolled down from above, shattering their spines and skulls instantly.

“Horrifying…” Liu Bei whispered, his eyes reflecting the firelight from the valley. “This isn’t war… this is pure butchery. Cao Mengde was truly blinded by his own ambition.”

Guan Yu squinted, his gaze piercing through the thick smoke and darkness. “There. In the middle of that vortex.”

Jo Fan followed Guan Yu’s line of sight. In the heart of the worst chaos, where the rain of arrows was thickest, stood the tattered and partially burned banner of the Wei army.

And beneath that banner, a man in a maroon robe was fighting for his life.

Cao Cao.

His usually neat hair was now a mess. His face, always adorned with a cunning smile, was now covered in dust, blood, and despair. He swung his sword brutally, trying to protect himself and the remnants of his guards from the assault of enemy spearmen who were beginning to descend the lower slopes.

At that exact second, from the shadows on the opposite slope, an enemy marksman released a single black arrow that flew silently through the air.

THWACK!

The arrow pierced the neck of Cao Cao’s beloved black warhorse. The horse let out a long, heart-wrenching neigh before its front knees buckled and its massive body collapsed forward.

The momentum threw Cao Cao from his saddle. The future tyrant’s body was violently flung into the air, spun around, and slammed into the sea of bloody mud below with a sickening thud. His sword was ripped from his grasp, landing far away in a pool of water.

“He’s down!” Zhang Fei exclaimed, his voice a mixture of horror and satisfaction.

Cao Cao lay sprawled in the mud, helpless and unarmed. Meanwhile, from out of the fog, a line of executioners with long spears from Dong Zhuo’s army began to approach him with triumphant sneers, ready to drive their steel into the body of the Wei hero.

Jo Fan swallowed, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. The time for playing chess was over. Now, it was time to change history with his own hands.