Chapter 363: Surround Three, Block One

The 19th year of Hongwu, 29th day of the 4th month.

Six days after the fall of Ankara City, the 80,000 Ming troops had already advanced to eighty li east of Bursa.

The Ottomans had set up three defensive lines along this stretch, each of which was easily crushed by the Longxiang Army.

Bayezid, with no retreat left, pulled all of his remaining over forty thousand troops back outside Bursa City, preparing for a final gamble.

Zhu Yong rode his horse at the front of the column, the reins loosely in his hand, with Zhang Wuhe, Chen Heng and a detachment of Longxiang Army bodyguards following behind.

The sun rose from the east, bathing the meadows of the Anatolia Plateau in a golden sheen.

"Your Highness, the scouts have returned."

Zhang Wu spurred his horse forward and said, "The Ottomans have entrenched a camp outside Bursa City, forty thousand men, divided into front and rear formations. The front consists of heavy infantry, twenty thousand; the rear is cavalry, a little over ten thousand; and there are a few thousand archers on the walls."

Zhu Yong nodded.

Bayezid this time proved clever, dropping the empty show; a solid forty thousand men, backed against the walls, intending to fight a war of attrition.

"He still hopes for reinforcements from Europe; the Balkan vassal states together could muster fifty to sixty thousand, but they must cross the strait, and it will take more than half a month."

Zhu Yong said lightly.

"Half a month is enough; forty thousand men, we have eighty thousand, we can press them to death." Zhu Di caught up from behind and said.

Zhu Yong glanced at his younger brother.

Zhu Di's Yan army wore half‑body plate armor, unlike the Longxiang Army's full‑body plate armor; it was lighter and suited for mountain warfare.

The kid has been running back and forth these days, more active than anyone.

"No hard press." Zhu Yong reined in his horse, took a map from his chest and spread it on the horse's back.

"Bayezid placed the heavy infantry at the front to absorb our first wave, and once our vigor wanes, he'll let his cavalry flank from both sides.

Although it's an old tactic, it works very well."

Zhu Di leaned over to look at the map, "Then how shall we fight?"

"Three routes." Zhu Yong's fingers drew several lines on the map.

"I'll lead twenty thousand men to press from the front, not a charge, but a gradual push, forcing him to shift his cavalry. You take thirty thousand, swing around to the left wing; when his cavalry moves, you slip in from the rear side.

Zhang Wu takes thirty thousand, circles from the right wing to block his retreat into the city."

Zhu Di's eyes lit up, "Surround three gates one?"

"Not surround three gates one, but surround three block one, leaving him nowhere to run." Zhu Yong folded the map away and said lightly.

Zhu Di stared blankly for a moment, then grinned, "Second Prince, you intend to capture Bayezid alive."

"He has fled twice; the third time, we cannot let him escape again."

Zhu Yong turned his horse around, looking toward the massive force behind him.

Eighty thousand men, arrayed three li, their iron armor glittering in the sun, the barrels of the flintlock guns pointing skyward in a uniform row.

"Send the order: whole army form up; in one hour, commence battle."

The eighty‑thousand‑strong army began to move.

The Longxiang Army led the front, the Yan army on the left wing, and Zhang Wu's men looped around to the right wing.

Zhu Yong rode at the forefront, two Double Hammers hanging on the horse's back, swaying lightly with the warhorse's gait.

One hour later, Bursa City appeared on the horizon.

The city was not large, but its walls were thick; it was the Ottomans' old capital, a relic from the Byzantine era.

Beyond the walls, the camp stretched beyond sight, tents packed densely, war flags fluttering.

Bayezid's war flag fluttered at the city gate, a black background with gold‑thread embroidered crescent, visible from afar.

Zhu Yong reined in his horse, squinting as he watched for a while.

Forty thousand men, formation tight, the front line heavy infantry planted their shields on the ground, lances braced on the shields, like hedgehogs.

"Second Prince, this formation is hard to bite..." Zhu Di spurred his horse forward.

Zhu Yong gave no reply, flipped off his horse, took the Double Hammers from the saddle and lifted them in his hands.

The hammer weighed twelve hundred jin; he carried it as easily as two firewood sticks.

"Second Prince, you intend to charge alone again?" Zhu Di's expression changed.

"No charge; first scare them. Take two thousand men with me, stop after five hundred steps." Zhu Yong, hammer in hand, walked forward without looking back.

Zhu Di gritted his teeth, turned and shouted, "Two thousand, follow me!"

Two thousand Longxiang Army elites stepped out of the ranks, trailing Zhu Yong, their flintlock guns loaded, bayonets unsheathed.

Zhu Yong, hammer in hand, walked forward at a steady pace.

Eight hundred steps.

Seven hundred steps.

Six hundred steps.

The Ottoman formation began to stir.

The front‑line heavy infantry gripped their lances tightly, while the rear archers drew their bows and nocked arrows.

Five hundred steps.

Zhu Yong halted, raised the hammer in his right hand toward the opposing war flag, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Bayezid...."

His voice was not loud, but it carried with great force, reaching across five hundred steps to echo over the entire battlefield.

The Ottoman formation fell silent for a moment.

Then, from beneath the war flag, a figure stepped forward.

Riding a white horse, clad in Golden Armor, a great beard, it was Bayezid I.

He reined in his horse, stared at the man with the hammer five hundred steps away, his face a steel‑blue.

This is the person.

Fan City, Ankara, and the Kezile River Valley beat him three times, leaving his teeth on the ground.

Now, he holds a hammer standing five Hundred Steps away, shouting his name as if calling a dog.

"You can't run away," Zhu Yong's voice came again, as flat as saying the weather is nice today.

Baye Jide's hand trembled.

He has fought for forty years and has never feared anyone.

But at this moment, he is afraid.

It's not fear of death, it's fear of that person.

"Send the order, the whole army attack!" he shouted hoarsely.

Forty thousand men moved.

The front line heavy infantry lifted their spears and began to advance.

The cavalry on both wings trotted their horses, preparing to encircle.

On the city wall, archers drew their bows and nocked arrows.

Zhu Yong watched the black, pressing mass of troops, a slight curl at the corner of his mouth.

"Retreat."

Two thousand Longxiang Army turned and fled, withdrawing to their original Formation.

The Ottoman heavy infantry pursued two Hundred Steps, found they couldn't catch up, and stopped.

The Formation was in disorder.

The front stopped, the rear kept moving, and the middle crowded into a mass.

Zhu Yong had been waiting for this moment.

"Zhang Wu! Right Wing! Chen Heng! Left Wing!"

Twenty thousand Longxiang Army surged out from both wings, Flintlock Guns firing in unison, the Ottoman cavalry at the front fell in rows.

Zhu Di led thirty thousand men, circled around from the left side, thrust straight into the Ottomans' flank and rear.

Zhu Yong lifted the Double Hammers and vaulted onto his horse.

"The remaining men, follow this king."

Thirty thousand Longxiang Army brushed forward, straightening their backs.

Zhu Yong gripped his horse's belly, and the warhorse surged forward.

The thirty thousand army followed closely, the hoofbeats sounding like muffled thunder.

The Ottoman Formation was already in chaos.

The cavalry on both wings were tangled by Zhang Wu and Chen Heng, the flank and rear were cut off by Zhu Di, and the central twenty thousand Ottoman heavy infantry didn't know whether to advance or retreat.

Zhu Yong rushed to the front of the Formation, swinging the Double Hammers together.

One hammer struck the front line's shield, shattering it, and the soldiers behind were flung outward.

The other hammer swept across, another five or six men fell to the ground.

He alone cut a bloody path.

Behind him, thirty thousand Longxiang Army followed his trail, surged into the Formation, Flintlock Guns firing together, sabers slashing.

The Ottoman Formation was torn open with a huge gap.

Baye Jide watched from behind, his face as white as paper.

Forty thousand men, in less than half an hour, had already suffered over ten thousand casualties.

The remaining thirty thousand were divided by the Ming army into several groups, each fighting on its own.

"Retreat, withdraw into the city!" he turned his horse around, heading toward Bursa City.

But the city gate's drawbridge had already been raised.