Chapter 328: Siege

……

At noon, a Horn Sound came from outside the city.

In the southeast direction, Ao Ma Er's army moved.

The black, pressing army, like a mass of dark clouds, surged toward Sa Ma Er Han.

Eighty thousand people, covering the heavens and earth.

On the city wall, the soldiers of the Longxiang Army watched that army, and not a single one spoke.

They have seen too many enemies.

On the watchtower, Zhu Yong squinted his eyes, gazing at the army drawing ever nearer.

"Heavy cannons, prepare."

The order was passed down.

Three hundred heavy cannons adjusted their angles, aiming toward the southeast.

Five li.

Four li.

Three li.

"Fire!"

"Boom boom boom..."

The three hundred heavy cannons fired simultaneously.

Cluster bombs fell into the crowd, exploding into patches of blood mist.

Screams of agony and horse whinnies blended together.

But eighty thousand men were too many.

Those in front fell, while those behind kept charging.

Second volley, third volley…

By the time they charged within a li, several thousand were already dead.

But the remaining over seventy thousand still charged.

"Explosives, prepare..."

The engineers in the sappers' camp crouched in the trench, holding fuses in their hands.

Five Hundred Steps.

Four Hundred Steps.

Three Hundred Steps.

"Pull!"

"Boom boom boom!"

The buried explosives detonated simultaneously.

The few thousand at the front were instantly blown skyward.

The warhorses behind were startled, running wildly in all directions.

Formation broke.

But Ao Ma Er had long been prepared.

"Infantry dismount, fight on foot!"

Over seventy thousand dismounted, formed ranks, and continued to advance.

Flintlock Guns began firing.

"Bang bang bang..."

Rows upon rows of Tie Mu Er soldiers fell.

But those behind kept charging.

Arrows rained down toward the city wall.

But they could not pierce the plate armor.

Those iron‑armored soldiers stood there, firing shot after shot.

Each shot brought down a person.

When over seventy thousand charged within two hundred steps of the wall, another five or six thousand died.

But they finally erected a Ladder.

"Onto the wall!"

Tie Mu Er soldiers began climbing the Ladder.

On the city wall, the Longxiang Army soldiers set down their Flintlock Guns, picking up spears and sabers.

"Kill!"

Blade flashes and sword shadows, flesh and blood flew everywhere.

A Tie Mu Er soldier who had just climbed the wall was pierced by a spear.

Another who just stuck his head out was cut down by a sword.

But there were too many people.

One fell, two came up.

Two fell, four came up.

Gaps began to appear on the city wall.

Zhu Yong stood on the watchtower, watching this scene, and frowned slightly.

"Zhang Wu, lead the men up."

"Yes!"

Zhang Wu charged forward with a squad of Longxiang Army, sealing the breach.

When the sword broke, use the fists.

When the fists grew weary, kick with the feet.

Those Tie Mu Er soldiers were smashed down one by one.

But more people kept climbing up.

Zhu Yong turned and looked at Wang Gui.

"Wang Gui, go bring those conscripts up and tell them to hold the wall; each will receive ten taels of silver."

"Yes..."

Wang Gui ran down the city tower.

A moment later, A Qizi led the conscripts up the wall.

They bore curved blades, following the Longxiang Army, helping to slash the climbing Tie Mu Er soldiers.

A Qizi swung a sword to fell one, then glanced up at the outside of the city.

A black mass of people, like ants, still surged toward this side.

He shivered.

But the knife in his hand did not stop.

It could not stop.

If it stopped, it meant death.

……

An hour later, Ao Ma Er finally ordered a retreat.

Over 70,000 men, more than 10,000 dead, over 20,000 wounded, withdrew.

The city wall was littered with corpses everywhere.

Both Tie Mu Er soldiers and Longxiang Army troops lay there.

A Qizi leaned against a bastion, gasping heavily.

His body was soaked in blood, his own and others'.

But he was still alive.

He lifted his head and looked toward the city tower.

The prince in dark-colored clothes still stood there.

From start to finish, he had not moved a step.

A Qizi suddenly laughed.

With someone like that present, they could not die.

……

To the northwest, Mi Lan Sha's forces also began the siege.

The same artillery, the same explosives, the same Flintlock Guns.

The same disastrous defeat.

Fifty thousand men, more than half killed or wounded, withdrew.

In the west, Tu He Lu Ke's troops were the same.

Sixty thousand men, over twenty thousand casualties, withdrew.

Within a day, three armies, 190,000 men, suffered over 50,000 casualties.

The remaining 140,000 fell back beyond safe distance, never daring to attack lightly again.

……

At night, inside Samarhan City, the lights shone brightly.

Longxiang Army soldiers stood guard on the wall, ready at any moment to meet a night raid.

The conscripts rested at the foot of the city, gnawing Dry Rations and drinking water.

A Qizi crouched in a corner of the wall, holding a piece of flatbread, chewing slowly.

The young conscript beside him shuffled over again.

"A Qizi, we won."

A Qizi glanced at him and said, "We won."

The young conscript grinned, "Winning is good, winning is good."

A Qizi said nothing, continuing to chew the flatbread.

So what if we won?

Outside there were still tens of thousands of people.

They would come again tomorrow.

And the day after tomorrow as well.

They would keep coming until the city fell, or they withdrew.

He lifted his head and looked toward the city tower.

The prince in dark-colored clothes still stood there.

Under Moonlight, his silhouette appeared especially towering.

A Qizi suddenly recalled the events of the day.

That prince, from beginning to end, didn't move a single step.

Outside, tens of thousands were besieging the city, and he just stood there.

Watching.

As if watching a play.

Aziz shivered, lowered his head, and continued gnawing on the flatbread.

……

On the city tower, Zhu Yong gazed at the distant camp tents.

Those three armies retreated, but did not withdraw.

They were still waiting.

Waiting for an opportunity.

Or waiting for reinforcements.

Zhang Wu walked over and knelt on one knee.

"Prince, the casualty report is ready: Longxiang Army suffered 137 killed in action, 62 seriously wounded, and over two hundred lightly wounded."

"On the surrendered troops side, more than 500 were killed, and over a thousand injured."

Zhu Yong nodded.

The 137 Longxiang Army were replaced by tens of thousands of Tie Mu Er soldiers.

It was worth it.

But it was still not enough.

Outside there were still tens of thousands.

"Treat the wounded as soon as possible; for the fallen brothers, keep their bodies, and after the battle bring them back to Great Ming for burial."

"Yes!"

Zhang Wu took the order and left.

Zhu Yong continued to stare into the distance.

Under Moonlight, those camp tents resembled silent beasts, sprawled on the ground.

They were still breathing.

They would pounce again.

But he was not afraid.

He had never been afraid.

……

Three days later, Omar, Milansa, and Tuheuluk attacked the city again simultaneously.

The same artillery barrage, the same explosives, the same Flintlock Gun.

The same crushing defeat.

Another tens of thousands died.

One hundred forty thousand became one hundred thousand.

Three more days passed, the third siege.

One hundred thousand became sixty thousand.

The commanders of the three armies finally could not sit still.

They gathered together to discuss strategies.

"We can't make headway; those Ming troops' weapons are too powerful," Omar's face turned ashen.

Milansa, with a grim face, said, "If we keep fighting like this, all our men will be wiped out."

Tuheuluk, a veteran in his fifties, had fought alongside Tie Mu Er for thirty years and had never encountered such a situation.

He sighed and said, "We must think of another way."

"What method?"

Tuheuluk paused briefly and said, "Lay siege, starve them to death."

Omar and Milansa exchanged a glance.

Siege.

It is the most foolish method, but perhaps the only one.

The people inside the city need food and water.

They only had three thousand, plus fewer than ten thousand surrendered troops.

How long can the city's provisions last?

One month?

Two months?

With sixty thousand people, they could endure a six‑month siege.

After half a year, the city's inhabitants would starve to death.

"Then that's the plan," Omar said.

……

Outside the city, a sixty‑thousand‑strong army began digging trenches and building fortifications.

They stopped assaulting and switched to siege.

On the city tower, Zhu Yong watched the scene, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Siege...

He smiled.

"Zhang Wu."

"Here!"

"Have someone inventory the city's grain to see how long it will last."

"Yes!"

After one hour, Zhang Wu returned to report.

"Prince, the city's grain is enough for the whole city for three months."

Zhu Yong nodded.

Three months.

That's enough.

He turned and walked down the city tower.

Behind him, Zhang Wu and the others were stunned.

"Prince, this is…"

"Where are you going?"

…

In the side hall where Tie Mu Er is imprisoned.

The door opened.

Zhu Yong walked in.

Tie Mu Er lifted his head and looked at him.

He hadn't seen him for a few days, and the young man still looked the same: clean clothes, little expression on his face.

"You know about the war outside, right?" Zhu Yong asked.

Tie Mu Er nodded.

He knows.

People come to tell him every day.

Ao Ma Er fell, Mi Lan Sha fell, Tu He Lu Ke fell.

Over a hundred thousand people died.

Now they are besieging the city.

Zhu Yong sat opposite him, watching him.

"Tie Mu Er, tell me, how long can they hold the siege?"

Tie Mu Er was silent for a moment and said, "I don't know."

Zhu Yong smiled.

"I know, they can't hold it long; in a few more days, my men will arrive."

Tie Mu Er was stunned.

"Your men?"

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "You think I only have these three thousand men. I've sent a messenger back to Great Ming; my elder brother will send troops, fifty thousand, a hundred thousand—enough anyway."

Tie Mu Er's complexion changed.

He forgot.

Great Ming has more than three thousand people.

Great Ming has several million troops.

Those troops, like the three thousand, have iron armor, fire‑spitting weapons, and things that can explode people.

If they all come…

"You…" Tie Mu Er opened his mouth but could not speak.

Zhu Yong stood up and walked to the window.

"Tie Mu Er, I tell you, your defeat is not unjust; Great Ming is not what you can imagine. The three thousand I brought are just the most ordinary unit of the Great Ming army."

He turned around, looking at Tie Mu Er.

"When my elder brother's troops arrive, none of your sixty thousand will escape; then the whole Timur Empire will belong to Great Ming."

Tie Mu Er slumped in his chair, his face like ash.

Zhu Yong walked to the doorway, suddenly stopped, and looked back at him.

"Live well; my Imperial Father is very eager to meet you."

The door closed.

Tie Mu Er sat in the darkness, unmoving for a long time.

…

Outside the city, a sixty‑thousand army is still digging trenches.

They don't know, a greater storm is closing in on them.

On the distant horizon, faint smoke can be seen.

Those are Great Ming's reinforcements, marching day and night.