At Sun Jian's scream, it was as though someone had flipped a switch. The city wall descended into utter chaos. The panicked, senseless soldiers no longer cared whether someone was a prince, noble, or high official; anyone who blocked their way got a blade. Scalding blood sprayed before their eyes, mingling with the icy rain in a strangely eerie beauty.
"Your Majesty, we must get you to safety!"
When Liu Bei and the others saw heads flying and severed limbs strewn across the ramp, they hurriedly shielded Liu Hong and stopped trying to force their way forward.
Liu Hong, too, was stunned by the chaos and could barely stand. Liu Bei dragged him into a relatively secluded corner, where he gasped for breath, still shaken to his core.
He had been the emperor, supreme and exalted, for so many years, yet he had never seen hundreds or thousands of people slaughtering one another in a scene like this. With everyone killing like mad, even the Son of Heaven, princes, and high ministers could take a couple of stray blows if they weren't careful!
"Your Majesty, it's over! Luoyang is lost!"
Before Liu Hong could steady himself, Grand Commandant Deng Sheng appeared before him, disheveled from head to toe. His graying beard and hair were caked in filth, his brocade robe stained with dark red blood, and he wept bitterly.
"The Moth Bandits haven't even attacked the city, and the walls are already in chaos. Luoyang can't be held!"
Liu Hong wanted nothing more than to curse him. You old dog were the one who refused to let me flee through Hongnong, insisting the Eight Passes were impregnable and Luoyang was as secure as a fortress. You absolutely had to make me stay and defend the city. And now you've got the nerve to stand before me bawling!
But seeing Deng Sheng so grief-stricken and disheveled, Liu Hong ultimately held back. He merely turned to Liu Bei. "Xuande, is there anything we can do?"
Liu Bei shook his head helplessly. "Your Majesty, the ramp is blocked. We can't even get down from the tower..."
Even though they had arranged an escape route beforehand, there was no way out!
Unless they could fly down like God Huang Tian, they had no choice but to remain on the city tower.
Liu Hong slumped helplessly against the cold, hard wall, his heart sinking into despair. "How did the vast realm come to this?"
"Damn it! I shouldn't have come to Daxia Gate at all. If only I'd forced my way out through Dongyang Gate earlier!"
Under the protection of a handful of retainers, Yuan Shao had taken shelter in a corner of the wall. Watching the chaos atop it, he couldn't help bitterly regretting his choices.
"I actually thought Luoyang could hold. What a fool! An utter fool!"
He wiped the rain from his face. "Am I, Yuan Shao, going to die in Luoyang today and be buried with the Great Han?!"
He was not resigned to it!
He came from the Yuan Clan, a family that had produced three dukes over four generations. Though he was no legitimate direct-line heir, and that brat Yuan Shu looked down on him for it, years of cultivating his reputation and striving had won him the recognition of countless people.
"The Model of the Realm," Yuan Benchu!
Bearing such a grand reputation, he had been full of ambition and confidence, determined to achieve something momentous, surpass Yuan Shu, and become the most accomplished member of the Yuan Clan in its history!
And yet...
Yuan Shao tilted his head toward the torrents of rain pouring from the sky, roaring in his heart, Heaven means to destroy me! Heaven means to destroy me!
Huang Tian had noticed the chaos atop Luoyang's walls, but he paid it no mind. Instead, he closed his eyes and silently sensed the currents of energy between Heaven and Earth.
In a certain instant, he suddenly opened his eyes. A flash of lightning seemed to flicker within them.
Orthodox Earth Thunder!
Heavenly Thunder answered his call!
He raised his right hand high. At his gesture, the thick clouds churned violently, and thunder rumbled as purple lightning tore across the sky like a spiderweb.
A "Thunder Spear" slowly took shape in the empty space above his right hand. Seen from the ground, it looked as though Huang Tian, standing atop the high platform, had gripped a blazing, brilliant spear of the Thunder God!
The spear's shaft was made of dazzling white light. Countless tiny purple lightning serpents raced and writhed along it, hissing as they crackled with a hair-raising series of sharp pops.
An utterly violent power was contained within the spear, barely ten feet long. It warped the air around it, and its searing heat even steamed the torrential rain falling from the sky.
"The Holy Venerable's power is boundless!"
"When Huang Tian descends, the Blue Heaven dies!"
"..."
Witnessing this mythic spectacle, tens of thousands of Yellow Turbans fell into a frenzy.
Meanwhile, Liu Hong and the others atop Luoyang's walls stood stunned. They could just about accept someone riding the clouds, but wielding a Thunder Spear and commanding thunder and lightning was too much for their nerves. One by one, they stared helplessly, mumbling incoherently.
The soldiers who had been hacking at one another in a frenzy also began to recover their senses beneath this awe-inspiring, godlike and demonic spectacle, only to be overcome by deep terror.
Were they really supposed to fight Immortal Gods like this?
Ignoring the fervor and fear of those around him, Huang Tian bent his elbow. The Thunder Spear, bearing the most unyielding and overwhelming power in the world, drew back slightly. Then...
His gaze crossed the distance between the high platform and Luoyang's walls, fixing on the towering ramparts.
There was no roar, no declaration.
Only a throw that poured forth every last shred of his spiritual power and will!
"BOOM—!!!"
The Thunder Spear left his hand and instantly became a blazing white meteor streaking through the torrential rain. Its brilliance nearly eclipsed every other light between Heaven and Earth. It tore through the air, leaving a peal of thunder in its wake.
In that instant, time seemed to stretch without end.
Liu Hong, Yuan Shao, Deng Sheng, He Jin, Liu Bei, and the others stared in horror as the Thunder God's spear hurtled toward the mighty city beneath their feet at a speed beyond thought.
In a flash, a blazing sphere of light exploded against the wall. The blast that followed was a deafening, mountain-shattering roar.
Stones, tiles, beams—everything crumbled as easily as sandcastles on a beach beneath the power of an Immortal God. A visible shockwave spread outward in rings, carrying dust and debris high into the sky until it became a swelling mushroom cloud.
The ancient wall, which had once stood several dozen feet tall, collapsed in a storm of thunderous light, reduced to dust.
The roar echoed on and on, pounding like a heavy hammer against everyone's heart.
When the blinding light and clouds of dust cleared, the Yellow Turban soldiers looked up. A huge breach had opened in the wall, which stretched for miles. The gap was blackened, filled with ruins, rubble, and a few surviving ministers and Han Army soldiers, nearly suffocated and driven mad.
All was silent.
Only the drizzle, slowly dying away, remained.
It pattered softly, bringing to mind the tender touch of a beauty gently caressing her lover's face.
Yet the devastation before them inspired no tenderness—only a profound, bone-deep fear.
Huang Tian, the "instigator" of all this, gazed quietly at the ancient city he had destroyed. Then, with extraordinary calm, he said:
"Enter the city!"
At his words, tens of thousands of Yellow Turbans erupted into action.
"Enter the city!"
"Enter the city!"
They brandished their weapons and surged like a tide through the breach blasted open by the Thunder Spear. Anyone who resisted was stabbed to death, though in truth, no one stood in their way. Every Han Army soldier lucky enough to survive had been scared witless; they sat collapsed on the ground, waiting to be captured by the Yellow Turbans.
Luoyang, capital of the realm.
It was settled!
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