Chapter 371: Capture the Flag

Before dawn, the Central Command Tent was already brightly lit.

Zhu Yong stood before the sand table, his finger pointing to the location of the Maricha River Valley.

Three days earlier, in that battle, twenty thousand Longxiang Army burned the allied forces' grain and fodder, Lazar knelt and surrendered, and forty thousand European reinforcements scattered. Yet the fight was not over.

"Your Highness, the Ottomans still have several strongholds on the Balkans that have not been eliminated."

Zhang Wu pointed to several marked cities on the sand table and said, "Sofia, Niš, Skopje—each city has a few thousand defenders.

If these cities are not taken, the Balkans cannot be pacified."

Zhu Yong nodded.

These cities are scattered along the key passes of the Balkans Mountains, blocking the route from Constantinople to Central Europe.

If they are not seized, endless trouble will follow.

"Send the orders: after sunrise, split the troops into three routes. Zhang Wu, you take five thousand men north to capture Niš; Chen Heng, you take five thousand men west to capture Sofia.

I will lead ten thousand men southwest to take Skopje; Yan Wang will keep the Yan army to guard Constantinople, watch the captives, and stabilize the city's civilians."

"Yes!"

The tent curtain was drawn back, and Zhu Qiong Jiong walked in.

The eleven-year-old boy wore a half-worn iron armor, a Wolf Fang Club slung over his shoulder, its head still stained with blood that hadn't been wiped clean.

"Father, I also want to go to Skopje."

Zhu Yong gave his son a glance.

This child, three days earlier on the battlefield, had slain over a hundred enemies, emerged blood-soaked from the wall's passage, his eyes shining terrifyingly.

At that moment he recalled his own past, when at fourteen he stood beneath Kaiping City, also drenched in blood at a breach.

"You may go, stay by my side, and don't stray far."

Zhu Qiong Jiong grinned, exposing a mouth missing a front tooth.

At daybreak, the great army set out.

Zhu Yong led ten thousand Longxiang Army southwest, following an ancient Roman military road, crossing the Thracian Plain and entering a branch of the Balkans Mountains.

The mountains were not high, but ravines crisscrossed, the roads were rugged, and the army did not move quickly.

After two days, scouts reported, "Your Highness, Skopje lies fifty li ahead, its garrison about three thousand, and the walls mount a dozen or so old cannons."

"Three thousand men, a dozen old cannons—send the order, accelerate forward, and capture Skopje today," Zhu Yong said with a slight curl at the corner of his mouth.

At noon, the army arrived outside Skopje.

The city was not large, but its walls were thick; it was an important Ottoman stronghold in the southwestern Balkans.

The walls were lined with soldiers; archers drew their bows and nocked arrows, and artillerymen held torches.

Zhu Yong halted his horse, squinted for a moment, then dismounted, taking two bronze hammers from the saddle.

"Zhu Qiong Jiong..."

"Here!" the boy rode out from the ranks, the Wolf Fang Club slung over his shoulder.

"Follow me."

Father and son walked side by side toward the city gate, with five hundred elite Longxiang Army troops tightly following behind.

On the walls, the Ottoman garrison saw the two approach and the archers began to fire arrows.

Arrows rained down toward Zhu Yong.

He neither dodged nor evaded; the arrows struck his iron armor with a clanging burst.

A few arrows headed for Zhu Qiong Jiong; the boy swung his Wolf Fang Club, smashing two away, while a third skimmed his ear, leaving a bloody slash. He said nothing and stayed tightly behind his father.

Reaching the edge of the ditch, Zhu Yong halted.

The ditch was narrow, about two zhang wide, with sharpened Wooden Stakes planted inside.

He stepped back a few paces, then grabbed a hammer and charged, leapt across the ditch, and landed steadily at the base of the wall.

On the wall, the Ottoman defenders' expressions changed.

They had never seen such men—two hammers larger than a human head, carried as if toys, clearing a ditch over a meter wide in a single leap.

Zhu Yong raised the hammer in his right hand and struck the wall.

The first blow made the wall tremble, and the mortar in the brick joints fell away.

The second hammer shattered several bricks, exposing the layer of rubble inside.

The third strike dented a pit into the wall, sending fragments of stone scattering.

He ran along the wall, found a section that seemed long neglected, delivered three blows, and the brick wall collapsed with a crash, revealing a five-foot square opening.

"Follow," Zhu Yong said, thrusting his hammer into the gap; Zhu Qiong Jiong followed closely behind.

Beyond the opening lay the inner slope of the wall, where several Ottoman soldiers rushed forward brandishing spears.

Zhu Yong swung a hammer, sending five or six men flying into the wall, their brains splattering.

He climbed the slope, and with each hammer strike another enemy fell.

Zhu Qiong Jiong followed behind, sweeping his Wolf Fang Club side to side.

An Ottoman officer charged from the side, slashing at his neck with a curved blade.

The boy ducked, then smashed a hammer onto the man's knee; the sound of bone cracking rang clear, the officer let out a howl and fell to his knees, the second hammer striking the back of his head.

Another cavalryman charged, his lance thrust at the boy's chest; he sidestepped, a hammer smacking the horse's leg, the warhorse fell, the rider toppled, and the boy hammered his skull.

Father and son, one after the other, cut through the entire wall segment.

On the wall, the Ottoman defenders were utterly routed.

Some fled backward, others knelt and surrendered.

Zhu Yong stood at the highest point of the wall, his Double Hammers planted on the ground, gazing at the streets within the city.

"Send the order: the whole army into the city."

The city gate was opened from inside by the Longxiang Army, and ten thousand troops poured in in single file.

Skopje City changed hands in less than half an hour.

In the evening, Zhu Yong sat in the courtyard of the Governor's Mansion, watching the sunset.

Zhu QiongJiong squatted beside him, wiping the Wolf Fang Club with a rag.

The iron rod's head was coated with a thick layer of blood scab; even after wiping for a long time it wouldn't come clean.

"Father, why can't this thing be wiped clean?" he looked up and asked.

"Soak it in hot water; once softened, a wipe will remove it."

Zhu QiongJiong let out a small sound and continued wiping.

Zhang Wu entered from outside, clasping his fists, and said, "Prince, Nish has been taken, the garrison surrendered, news also came from Chen Heng, the garrison of Sophia abandoned the city and fled; he is in pursuit."

Zhu Yong nodded.

Within three days, all three cities were captured.

The southern Balkan Peninsula has already fallen completely into Great Ming's hands.

"Send the order down: have Zhang Wu and Chen Heng garrison their respective captured cities, round up the fleeing soldiers, pacify the populace, and when the officials sent by the Second Prince arrive, hand over."

"Yes…"

Zhang Wu turned to leave, then stopped and asked, "Prince, what shall we do with those prisoners? In total there are over ten thousand."

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "Those willing to surrender will be incorporated as auxiliary troops; those unwilling will be sent to build a road westward from Constantinople, that road must be constructed."

"Yes…"

Zhu QiongJiong set down the Wolf Fang Club, stood up and asked, "Father, where shall we fight next?"

Zhu Yong looked at his son.

The boy's eyes still held a spark; he still wanted to fight.

"No more fighting, rest first; the Balkan Peninsula must be governed slowly, we can't swallow it all at once."

Zhu QiongJiong nodded, squatted again and continued wiping the Wolf Fang Club.

Zhu Yong stood up, walked to the center of the courtyard, and gazed at the western sky.

There, the Adriatic Sea lies; further west are Italy, Rome, Frank, and England.

Too far.

This campaign ends here for now.

Meanwhile, in Constantinople, Zhu Di sat on the steps before the Hagia Sophia Cathedral, watching the sunset.

Behind him, Great Ming's banner fluttered on the dome, turning the millennial cathedral into Great Ming's most conspicuous emblem in the West.

"Prince, news from King Wu arrives: Nish, Sophia, and Skopje have all been taken." Vice General came over to report.

Zhu Di nodded.

He was not surprised at all; the Second Prince goes to war—when has he ever lost?

"What about those European prisoners? Lazar and his men."

"They are confined in the camp outside the city, and they are obedient."

Zhu Di thought for a moment and said, "Send someone to talk to Lazar, ask if he is willing to submit to Great Ming.

If he agrees, have him write letters to the monarchs of those small Balkan states, urging them to surrender."

"Yes…"

Zhu Di stood up and looked at the western sky.

The Second Prince fights in the west, while he defends the city in the east.

The two brothers are separated by hundreds of miles, yet share the same goal.

Plant Great Ming's banner in even farther places.

On May 28, Zhu Yong returned to Constantinople with ten thousand Longxiang Army troops.

Zhu Di went out of the city to greet them; the brothers met at the city gate.

"Second Prince, you've worked hard," Zhu Di said with a smile.

Zhu Yong shook his head and said, "Not hard. How about you? Is the city stable?"

"It's stable. Bayezid is locked up and very obedient; those European prisoners have also stopped causing trouble. Lazar agreed to submit, wrote letters urging surrender to several small states, and they replied, saying they are willing to become vassals and pay tribute."

Zhu Yong nodded, and the two brothers walked side by side into the city.

Walking along Constantinople's Street, the street was lined with citizens—Greeks, Turks, Armenians, and Jews.

They bowed their heads, watching the iron‑armored troops pass before them.

No one dared to speak, nor to look up.

Yet in their eyes there was curiosity, awe, and a faintly concealed gratitude.

The Great Ming forces had been in the city for half a month, without burning, killing, or looting, without forcing conversion; those who should trade did trade, those who should live lived.

Aside from changing a banner, nothing else changed.

Zhu Yong rode his horse through the Street, his expression calm.

He knew what these citizens were thinking.

They cared not who was emperor, only whether they could eat and survive.

Providing them with stable days makes a good emperor.

Returning to the Central Command Tent, Zhu Yong sat before the sand table, looking at the full map of the Balkan Peninsula.

Nish, Sophia, Skopje—all three cities are under Longxiang Army control.

The route from Constantinople to the Adriatic Sea has been half opened.

"Prince, what shall we do next?" Zhang Wu asked.

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "First hold the ground, wait for big brother to send officials; these places need someone to manage them, we can't rely only on the army."

"Yes."

Zhu Qiong Jiong squatted by the sand table, looking at the marked cities, and suddenly asked, "Father, what's beyond the Adriatic Sea?"

"Italy."

"What's beyond Italy?"

"Frank, England, the Holy Roman Empire."

Zhu Qiong Jiong's eyes lit up as he asked, "Father, can we reach England in battle?"

Zhu Yong looked at his son, a slight smile curling his lips.

The child's ambition is even bigger than his own back then.

"We can, but not now; this region is too vast, we must proceed slowly."

Zhu Qiong Jiong nodded thoughtfully.

That night, Zhu Yong sat under the lamp writing a letter.

The letter was addressed to Zhu Biao, a thick stack of paper recounting the recent wars from start to finish.

From the Ottoman incursion into Tie Mu Er Fu, to the Battle of Fan Cheng, the Battle of Ankara, the Battle of Bursa, the Battle of Constantinople, and finally the pacification of the Balkan Peninsula, each event was recorded clearly.

As he wrote the final part, he paused, then added a few more lines.

"Big brother, the Balkan Peninsula has been taken, the European reinforcements have been scattered, the road west from Constantinople is half opened, from Tie Mu Er Fu to Constantinople the whole way is now Great Ming territory."

Send officials, these places need governance, and also the railway—has the line from Yingtian to Lanzhou been quickly repaired? The stretch from Lanzhou to Samarkand, and Samarkand to Constantinople also needs to be built.

Once the railway is completed, the return will be swift."

After finishing, he placed the letter in an envelope and handed it to Zhang Wu, saying, "Send someone on swift horses to deliver it back to Yingtian Prefecture."

"Understood."

Early June, Yingtian Prefecture. In Qianqing Palace, Zhu Yuanzhang sat behind the imperial desk, holding a battle report just transferred from the Western Regions.

Empress Ma sat beside him, stitching, occasionally looking up at him.

"Zhong Ba, what's the matter again?"

Zhu Yuanzhang handed the report to her, saying, "Yong Er's side fought another battle; the Balkan Peninsula has been taken, and Constantinople is also secured."

Empress Ma took the report, glanced at it a few times, her eyes slightly reddened.

"That child fights recklessly."

Zhu Yuanzhang hummed, but his mouth curled upward.

He stood up and walked to the world map hanging on the wall.

From Yingtian Prefecture westward, the map extended all the way to Constantinople.

That kid really planted Great Ming's banner on that millennial ancient city.

"Has Biao Er known?" he asked.

"He should know."

Zhu Yuanzhang nodded, saying nothing more.

Outside the window, the setting sun painted the entire Imperial City golden.

At the construction site outside Yingtian Prefecture, workers were still laying tracks.

The railway from Yingtian to Lanzhou has reached Xi'an. Zhu Biao stood on the site, watching the laid tracks, thinking of his second brother far away in Europe.

This railway is being built for him.

One day it will extend to Samarkand, to Constantinople.

Then, the second brother's return will be swift.