Chapter Fifty-Two: The Gathering of the Eighteen Warlords

After Emperor Ling’s death, the imperial court fell into deeper chaos by the day. The former General of the Front and Governor of Xiliang, Dong Zhuo, having failed in suppressing the Yellow Turbans, was to be prosecuted by the court. But Dong Zhuo was no mere upstart—he commanded two hundred thousand troops from the Western Provinces. Mobilizing his army, he left his son-in-law, Colonel Niu Fu, to guard Shaanxi, and marched toward the capital.

In the autumn of 190 AD, Dong Zhuo enthroned a new emperor and murdered the deposed Empress Dowager’s son. When Liu Bian, the deposed Emperor, escaped from Luoyang, he ordered Xun You to compose a proclamation of condemnation against Dong Zhuo, to be spread throughout the land:

“Examining the records, from all ages, none have surpassed Dong Zhuo in treachery and brutality—rebellious, unscrupulous, greedy, and cruel. The imperial forces muster a million strong, with countless fierce cavalry, and valiant archers at the ready. Let all commanderies and provinces ready their arms, array their troops, and await the signal to march, so that we may save the dynasty from collapse, restore order, and establish a noble reputation. Thus decreed by law!”

Hearing this, warlords across the realm rose up one after another to campaign against Dong Zhuo.

In the military camp, Zifan too received the proclamation from Guo Jia.

First, as Governor of Youzhou and a high minister of the court, Zifan was duty-bound to rescue the Emperor and restore peace to the capital. Second, with the young Liu Bian deposed and made Prince of Hongnong, the nine-year-old Emperor Xian had ascended the throne. All the regional lords began to raise troops in preparation for war.

Among them, Cao Cao of Chenliu spent his entire fortune, recruiting soldiers and issuing a call to arms, inviting heroes from across the land to join him in opposing the traitor Dong Zhuo.

Sun Jian, Marquis of Wucheng and Governor of Changsha, finished reading the proclamation, looked around, and declared, “Dong Zhuo is a scourge to the realm and must be eliminated! We too shall rise in arms, appointing Sun Ce as vanguard to lead fifty thousand men.”

Yuan Shu, Rear General and Governor of Nanyang, and Yuan Shao, Marquis of Qixiang and Governor of Bohai—brothers both—likewise raised their banners. The Yuan family’s legacy spanned four generations, their students and former officials scattered throughout the empire; gathering heroes to their cause, they became the most powerful among the Eighteen Coalition Lords.

Han Fu, Inspector of Jizhou; Liu Dai, Inspector of Yanzhou; Wang Kuang, Prefect of Henei; Tao Qian, Inspector of Xuzhou; Ma Teng, Governor of Xiliang; Gongsun Zan, Prefect of Beiping… all responded in turn.

Within a short time, forces from all directions converged on the capital, embarking on a campaign to rescue the Emperor.

Of all these lords, the most powerful was Yuan Shao. As Marquis of Qixiang, he commanded over one hundred thousand seasoned troops, with many famous generals—Yan Liang and Wen Chou, who would later fall to Guan Yu’s blade, yet were still formidable; and strategists such as Tian Feng, Xu You, and Feng Ji.

Within a few days, the various warlords raised their armies. Among the Eighteen Coalition Lords were: Yuan Shu, Rear General and Governor of Nanyang; Han Fu, Governor of Jizhou; Kong Zhou, Inspector of Yuzhou; Liu Dai, Inspector of Yanzhou; Wang Kuang, Prefect of Henei; Zhang Miao, Prefect of Chenliu; Qiao Mao, Prefect of Dongjun; Yuan Yi, Prefect of Shanyang; Bao Xin, Chancellor of Jibei; Kong Rong, Prefect of Beihai; Zhang Chao, Prefect of Guangling; Gongsun Zan, Prefect of Beiping; Zhang Yang, Prefect of Shangdang; Sun Jian, Marquis of Wucheng and Governor of Changsha; Yuan Shao, Marquis of Qixiang and Governor of Bohai; Cao Cao, Colonel of Cavalry; Ma Teng, Governor of Xiliang; and Wu Zifan, Governor of Youzhou.

The assembly of the Eighteen Coalition Lords was a grand and awe-inspiring sight. One contingent after another passed the gates; the drums thundered, battle banners fluttered, the air was thick with dust, and the horses’ hooves echoed across the plains.

Zifan, clad in black armor, rode the Night-Lit Jade Kirin. In his hand was a tiger-headed spear. His sword-like brows slanted heroically, his long, sharp black eyes gleamed, and his lips, thin and pressed, set off the angular lines of his face. Tall and slender, yet not rugged, he resembled a solitary eagle in the darkness—aloof and proud, exuding an aura of dominance that seemed to disdain the very heavens.

The Youzhou army, with banners snapping and war drums booming, was truly a force of tigers and wolves. The soldiers marched in perfect step, singing loudly as they advanced.

The Black Cavalry formed the vanguard, each soldier armed with a long spear and mounted on a mighty horse of Xiliang. Their eyes were as keen as hawks, ever alert for battle, drawing the attention of many.

Gongsun Zan, Prefect of Beiping, led fifteen thousand elite troops, advancing from a distance. At his side stood a man in a long yellow robe, seven and a half feet tall, with ears that reached his shoulders and hands that hung below his knees. His eyes seemed almost to glimpse his own ears; his face was as fair as jade, his lips as red as cinnabar. Beside him rode two burly men, one with a black face, the other with a red.

Zifan peered closely and thought, “Could those be Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei?” But as the drums sounded thrice, he had no time to look more closely, for the proceedings moved swiftly on.

The warlords arrived in succession and pitched their camps, more than two hundred banners flying in the wind.

In the grand hall, Yuan Shao sat atop the seat of honor, the other lords arrayed on either side.

Yuan Shao stood and said, “Since we have taken up the righteous cause, we must first appoint a coalition leader.” Glancing around at the assembled lords, his gaze settled on Cao Cao. “General Cao, would you be willing to take up this leadership?”

Cao Cao returned his gaze, rose, and replied, “You jest, Lord Yuan. I have shallow learning and little talent—hardly worthy of so great a charge. I am ashamed.”

Yuan Shao laughed. “Brother Zifan is now Governor of Youzhou, has routed the Yellow Turbans, slain their leaders, and his name is famed far and wide as a young hero. Why not let him lead the coalition and humble that old traitor’s arrogance?”

“Hmph! He’s but a mere youth—how could he possibly bear the mantle of coalition leader? Don’t overestimate yourself,” Yuan Shu sneered.

Zifan cast Yuan Shu a sidelong glance. “I am not your equal, General Yuan—how could I dare contend for the position? Moreover, the coalition leader is the commander of all our forces. In my opinion, Lord Yuan Shao is best suited for this role. He has leadership, strong armies, and loyal followers throughout the land. With Lord Yuan at the helm, we would all be content.”

“You—you—you…” Yuan Shu fumed. He had coveted the position himself, but now Zifan had given it to Yuan Shao.

All knew Yuan Shu and Yuan Shao were half-brothers—Yuan Shu being the elder, legitimate son, Yuan Shao the younger, born of a concubine. Thus Yuan Shu looked down on Yuan Shao.

Seeing this, Cao Cao rose and spoke: “Lord Yuan Shao, scion of four generations of high ministers, with countless followers, and a descendant of Han’s renowned generals—he is most worthy to be our leader.”

Yuan Shao declined repeatedly, but the assembly insisted there could be no other. At last, Yuan Shao accepted.

The next day, a three-tiered platform was erected, decked with banners, seals, and command tokens of the Five Directions. Yuan Shao, in full regalia and sword by his side, ascended solemnly. “The House of Han suffers misfortune. The traitor Dong Zhuo oppresses the Emperor and torments the people. Today, I have summoned you all to restore the Han dynasty. May Heaven and Earth bear witness!” The lords below were stirred to righteous fury.

Thunder is born of lightning, and the army’s might is proclaimed before battle. Thus, seeing lightning, one fears the coming thunder; hearing the drums, one dreads the army’s power.

The clash of arms is heralded by the drumbeat—an ancient tradition. From the earliest times, kings gave warnings in their capitals, swore oaths before their armies, and generals of old took vows at the gates of their camps.

As winter set in, the armies fought countless battles, the campaign season had begun. Let this might be displayed and the spirit of war endure forever!

A hundred battles, unfettered, taking the road ahead—each with its meaning; rooting out corruption, red cavalry galloping across the land, eager for the fray; tiger-head, winter’s chill, recalling the strength of the Warring States; iron-blooded, wind-riding generals on the battlefield, ready to shatter enemy lines; modest yet fierce, blazing gold and crimson arms, their prowess shining to the heavens!

A proclamation is a declaration—its words clear and resolute, a pledge of the army’s resolve, weapons at the ready. The fate of the army in Xiliang, heaven as witness; the general leads in person, honoring Heaven’s command; the white horse gallops in the autumn wind, the enemy will be struck with awe. The iron cavalry of Xiliang, their charge like a storm, their spirit fierce as a spear’s sweep; let their martial wrath resound, their letters reach afar. The autumn wind of the northern lands, twin powers shaking the sky.

The proclamation, four hundred strong, proclaims this time of brightness—surveying the land, weighing its strengths and weaknesses, measuring power and ambition! The Xiliang cavalry, undefeated after a hundred battles. This declaration to Heaven unites all hearts!

When the ceremony ended, Zifan clasped his fists and said, “On such a fine occasion, how can we not drink? This is my own newly brewed wine—gentlemen, enjoy it at your leisure.” All drank heartily.

After several rounds, suddenly news arrived that Hu Zhen was leading his army south. The lords were delighted, eager to seize the first victory and bolster their own prestige, and so sent forth the generals Yu She and Pan Feng to challenge Hu Zhen. Yet, within a few bouts, both fell to Hua Xiong’s blade, and the coalition lords were left stunned, whispering in confusion.

Yuan Shao murmured, “Alas, if only my great generals Yan Liang and Wen Chou were here, they would surely take Hu Zhen’s head.”

“Who among you dares to lead our forces?” he asked. When none stepped forward, Zifan shook his head, thinking, “This is the perfect chance to show my martial skill.” Rising, he saluted and said, “I am willing to take command.”

Cao Cao rejoiced, poured a cup of hot wine, and toasted him, “May my worthy brother return victorious—and take care!”

Zifan laughed, “No need for concern, elder brother. Set the wine aside—I shall return anon.”

Mounting his horse, Zifan rode out alone through the gates…