Chapter 369: Charging Ahead with My Own Forces

The 19th year of Hongwu, May 17.

Outside Constantinople, the smoke of gunpowder has not yet cleared.

Three days ago, in that siege, Zhu Yong and his son together smashed open the city wall that had never fallen in a thousand years.

When Baye Jide knelt before Hagia Sophia and uttered the word "surrender," the heart of the entire Ottoman Empire had already changed hands.

But the battle has not yet finished.

Forty thousand reinforcements from the European direction have already crossed the Danube and are pressing toward Constantinople.

When the news reached the city, Zhu Yong was standing beneath the dome of Hagia Sophia, looking up at the massive mosaic.

The Holy Mother cradles the Holy Son, golden light flashing, a thousand years of history beneath his feet.

"Your Highness, the Serbians, Bulgarians and Wallachians, a combined force of forty thousand, the vanguard has already reached Adrian Fortress, less than three hundred li away," Zhang Wu strode in, lowering his voice.

Zhu Yong withdrew his gaze and said lightly, "Baye Jide has been captured; are they still coming to die?"

"I hear the commander is the Serbian Duke Lazar; he is highly respected in the Balkans, his cavalry elite, and hopes to seize Constantinople while our foothold is still unstable."

Zhu Yong's mouth twitched slightly, "Unstable foothold… then let them see whether Great Ming is steady or not."

He turned and walked out of the cathedral, with Zhang Wu following behind.

On the street, soldiers of the Longxiang Army were clearing the battlefield, collecting weapons, and treating the wounded.

The Ottoman corpses had already been carried away, but the bloodstains remained on the stone pavement, a large swath of dark red.

Zhu Qiong Jiong crouched by the street, using a rag to wipe the blood from his Wolf Fang Club.

The iron rod, taller than him, had a layer of dark red material on its head; after wiping for a long time it still wasn't clean.

"Father!" Seeing Zhu Yong emerge, he stood up and slung the Wolf Fang Club over his shoulder.

Zhu Yong gave his son a once-over.

The eleven‑year‑old boy was drenched in blood, his face splattered as well, yet his eyes shone terrifyingly bright.

That kid, two days ago followed him through the wall's side passage, cutting through the entire defense line; when they counted, they'd killed sixty to seventy.

Zhu Di came from another street, and upon seeing the father and son, his steps halted.

He recalled the time under Kaiping City, when Second Prince did the same, bloodied all over, emerging from the breach of the city gate, blood dripping from his hammer, a smile on his face.

Back then he didn't understand; later he did, realizing it was the exhilaration of a tiger entering a flock of sheep.

"Second Prince, have you heard about the forty thousand reinforcements over in Europe?" Zhu Di asked.

"I know; what do you think?"

Zhu Di thought for a moment and said, "Forty thousand men aren't many, but they travel far, and Grain and Fodder supplies must pass through the Balkan terrain, stretching the supply line.

We can wait leisurely beneath Constantinople; even if they choose not to fight, they will have to."

Zhu Yong shook his head, "Don't wait. If we wait until they reach the city walls, the battle will drag on; we should strike proactively, intercept them near Adrian Fortress, and decide the outcome in one battle."

Zhu Di's eyes brightened, "Shall I lead the troops?"

"No, you guard the city; Constantinople has just been taken, someone must watch it. I'll take twenty thousand Longxiang Army there."

"Only twenty thousand against forty thousand, plus the Balkan terrain is complicated…" Zhu Di grew anxious.

"Enough… back then I fought ten thousand with three thousand, and we still took it, didn't we?" Zhu Yong cut him off.

Zhu Di opened his mouth, then fell silent.

He recalled the 16th year of Hongwu, when Second Prince took Samarkand with three thousand, and repelled Tie Mu Er's hundred‑thousand army with three thousand.

At that time he was still young; hearing the news in the Western Regions, he was so excited he didn't sleep a night.

Twenty thousand versus forty thousand, in Second Prince's eyes, it was like a game.

"Father, I'm going too!" Zhu Qiong Jiong rushed forward, gripping his Wolf Fang Club tightly.

Zhu Yong looked down at his son, silent for a moment.

"You may go, follow me, and don't stray far."

"Yes!"

May 19, before dawn, twenty thousand Longxiang Army marched out of Constantinople's Xi Men.

Zhu Yong rode at the front, two drum‑pot golden hammers hanging on his horse, glinting dark‑gold in the morning light.

Zhu Qiong Jiong rode a jujube‑red horse behind, the Wolf Fang Club slung over his shoulder, his back straight as a pole.

The twenty‑thousand troops, iron armor like a forest, Flintlock Guns flashing toward the west, hooves sounding like muffled thunder, shaking the very earth.

On the city wall, Zhu Di stood with his arms crossed, watching the column gradually vanish into the dawn.

Behind him, Zhang Wuhe and Chen Heng stood side by side, silent.

Having followed the Prince for over a decade, they knew this battle the Prince would not lose.

Going west from Constantinople, after crossing the Thracian Plain, lies a spur of the Balkan Mountains.

The mountains aren't high, but ravines criss‑cross and the roads are rugged.

The twenty‑thousand marched along an ancient Roman military road, covering eighty li per day.

On the evening of the third day, scouts reported: the Serbian‑Bulgarian‑Wallachian allied force of forty thousand had camped fifty li west of Adrian Fortress, and the vanguard cavalry had reached the foot of Adrian Fortress.

"Is Adrian Fortress defended?" Zhu Yong asked.

Zhang Wu replied, "Yes, the Ottoman garrison is under two thousand. Baye Jide has been captured; they don't know whose orders to follow, the gate is shut, and no one is allowed in."

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "We will camp at Adrian Fortress tonight."

"Understood."

Adrian Fortress is a key Ottoman stronghold in the Balkans; its walls aren't tall but are thick, guarding the road to Constantinople.

The garrison inside, seeing the iron‑clad army outside, were so frightened they wouldn't even fire an arrow.

Zhu Yong halted his horse outside the gate, looking up at the Ottoman soldiers on the wall, their faces the color of earth.

"Open the gate."

Two characters, the sound is not loud, but its penetrating power is extremely strong.

After a moment of silence, the city gate creaked open.

The defending commander knelt in the doorway, trembling all over.

Zhu Yong rode past him on horseback, not even turning his head.

After entering the city, Zhu Yong gathered the generals in the Central Command Tent.

The map was spread on the table, the terrain of the Barghan Mountains clear at a glance.

"The allied forces are fifty li west of Adrian Fortress, encamped along the Maricha River Valley, forty thousand men divided into three formations: the vanguard ten thousand, the central force twenty thousand, the rear force ten thousand."

"Grain and Fodder supplies are behind the rear force, overseen by the Valaqiya people."

Zhang Wu pointed at the allied forces' position on the map.

Zhu Yong looked at the map, his finger pointing at the rear force's position.

"The Valaqiya people, are they the ones herding sheep?"

"Yes, the Valaqiya people have many infantry, few cavalry, and the weakest combat power."

"Then attack their rear force, burn the Grain and Fodder, and the vanguard and central force will collapse without fighting."

Zhang Wu was startled and said, "Prince, the rear force is at the far west; we must bypass their vanguard and central force, take the mountain road, and it will be at least eighty li more."

"Eighty li can be covered in one night; send the order, the whole army rests for two hours, and departs at the hour of the Rat."

The generals obeyed and left.

Zhu QiongJiong had been crouching nearby listening, and now stood up, gripping his Wolf Fang Club tightly: "Father, can we fight tonight?"

"We can fight."

Zhu QiongJiong's eyes brightened.

At the hour of the Rat, twenty thousand Longxiang Army slipped out silently through the Xi Men of Adrian Fortress, heading west along the mountain road on the south bank of the Maricha River Valley.

The moon was hidden by clouds, the valley was pitch black, and only the rushing sound of the river could be heard.

No one lit torches, no one spoke.

Zhu Yong walked at the front, Zhu QiongJiong followed behind, clutching his Wolf Fang Club, his palms sweating.

It was not fear, but excitement.

After walking for about three hours, the horizon turned a pale fish‑belly white.

The forward scout returned and reported, "Prince, the allied rear force is only five li ahead, still sleeping."

Zhu Yong halted his horse, turned back to glance at the massive army behind.

Twenty thousand men wound through the valley for several li, their iron armor glinting a dull light in the morning.

"All troops, obey the order, charge with this king."

He drew two drum‑jar golden hammers, clamped his horse's belly, and rushed forward.