Chapter 373: Four Great Battle Feats

Four days later, the army arrived at the south bank of the Danube.

The river was wide and the current swift; the opposite bank was Serbian territory.

In the distance one could see troops moving on the opposite bank, flags fluttering, tents stretching endlessly.

"Prince, Lazar has set up a camp on the opposite bank, about thirty thousand men, defending a dozen‑plus li along the river, with heavy troops guarding every crossing. It looks like they intend to block us on the south bank," Zhang Wu rode over.

Zhu Yong stared at the enemy's Military Tents on the opposite bank, squinting.

Thirty thousand men defending the river, with heavy troops at the crossings; a frontal forced crossing would incur heavy casualties.

But Lazar forgot one thing: the Danube is long, and not every crossing is guarded.

"Zhang Wu, you take five thousand men and stay here; raise more flags by day, add more Fire Pits, give the impression of a frontal river crossing. At night send a detachment to feign an attack at a crossing to hold them back."

Zhang Wu was startled and asked, "Prince, should we go around?"

Zhu Yong gave no answer, turning to Zhu QiongJiong: "You come with me, take ten thousand men, travel upstream eighty li; there is a crossing there that Lazar hasn't guarded."

Zhu QiongJiong's eyes lit up, "Father, how did you know there's a crossing upstream?"

"Scouts discovered it yesterday; the route is difficult, a large force can't pass, but we are the Longxiang Army, no road is impassable."

That night, ten thousand Longxiang Army slipped silently away from the Military Camp, moving upstream along the south bank of the Danube.

The path was indeed rough; many places had no road at all, just rubble and scrub.

The army marched through the night and at dawn finally reached that crossing.

What is called a crossing is actually a shallow sandbank where the river narrows.

The water was no higher than the thighs, so infantry could wade through.

The opposite bank had no Military Tents, no sentries, not even a single silhouette.

"Cross the river," Zhu Yong dismounted, slung the hammer on his back, and was the first to step into the water.

The water was ice‑cold and biting, not reaching his waist.

He walked forward step by step, steadily.

Zhu QiongJiong followed behind, raising his Wolf Fang Club overhead; the water reached his chest, he tiptoed forward without a word.

Ten thousand Longxiang Army trailed the father and son like a long iron‑black dragon, slowly crossing the Danube.

After landing, Zhu Yong did not pause, leading the army southward, charging straight into the rear of Lazar's Military Camp.

Meanwhile, Lazar was in the Central Command Tent drinking wine with several generals.

Serbia, Bulgaria, Wallachia, plus Hungarian reinforcements—fifty thousand troops—defended the river; even the Ming army could not swoop in.

"Duke, any news from the Bulgarians?" a general asked.

Lazar set down his wine cup and said, "No, but don't worry; they have five thousand men, and even if the Ming army catches up, they can hold out for a few days."

As soon as he finished speaking, a clamor rose from outside the tent.

A scout staggered in, his face ashen, "Duke, the Ming army... the Ming army is attacking from behind!"

Lazar sprang up, the wine cup shattering on the ground.

How could that be? The Ming army was clearly on the south bank; how did they get to the north bank...?

He burst out of the big tent and saw smoke and dust billowing behind the Military Camp, battle cries shaking the heavens.

A Great Ming Red Flag fluttered in the firelight, and beneath it a man bearing Double Hammers rode forward, followed by a sea of iron‑clad cavalry.

Zhu Yong charged in from the rear of the Military Camp, ten thousand Longxiang Army behind him, Flintlock Guns firing in unison, sabers slashing.

The Serbians had no rear defense at all, still watching Zhang Wu's banner from the south bank.

By the time they reacted, the Longxiang Army had already cut through half the Military Camp.

Zhu Yong surged ahead, swinging the Double Hammers left and right.

A Serbian cavalryman charged, his spear thrust toward Zhu Yong's chest; he smashed the spear shaft with one hammer, struck the horse's head with the other, the warhorse whinnied and fell, the rider was flung and his neck snapped.

Another came at him, a curved blade slashing at his shoulder; he sidestepped, and a hammer struck the man's back, the sound of a spine snapping audible through the armor.

"Where is Lazar?" he demanded, grabbing a fleeing Serbian officer.

The officer pointed at the largest tent in the center of the Military Camp, stumbling over his words.

Zhu Yong released him, spurred his horse toward the Central Command Tent.

Lazar was trying to flee when he saw the man bearing Double Hammers charge toward him; his legs went weak.

He had fought half his life and had never seen anyone like this.

One man, two hammers, pierced through the formation of his thirty thousand troops.

"I surrender, I surrender!" he knelt, trembling all over.

Zhu Yong halted his horse, looking down from above, a slight smile curling his lips: "It would have been better if you'd done this earlier."

Behind him, thirty thousand Serbian allied troops fell to their knees. The clatter of weapons hitting the ground rang out.

In the center of the battlefield, Zhu QiongJiong chased after a Serbian battle flag.

A few bodyguards carried the flag northward; he pursued on his maroon horse, Wolf Fang Club raised overhead.

After half a li of pursuit, he finally caught up.

He swung his club, toppling the last guard, grabbed the flagpole and yanked hard.

He seized the flag.

Behead the general, seize the flag, break the formation, be the first to ascend.

All four great battle feats, he claimed them alone.

Twelve years old.

Even harsher than his father was back then.

By evening, the battlefield had been cleared.

Over twenty thousand prisoners were taken, a few thousand warhorses, and piles of grain and fodder formed a small hill.

Lazhaer was bound tightly, knelt before Zhu Yong, his complexion ashen.

"I'll let you go back, have you write a letter to the Hungarians, make them behave, stop reaching southward; if I catch them again, it won't be as simple as kneeling here any more," Zhu Yong said calmly.

Lazhaer was stunned.

Letting him go back, he thought this time death was certain.

"What, don't want to leave?"

"Go, go, I'm going!" Lazhaer kowtowed like crushing garlic, and was dragged away by Imperial Troops.

Zhu Qiong Jiong carried the captured battle flag over, his face beaming, and said, "Father, look!"

Zhu Yong glanced at the banner, then at his son, and said, "It's okay."

He paused, then added, "Stronger than your father was back then."

Zhu Qiong Jiong grinned, showing his mouth missing a front tooth.

That night, Zhu Yong wrote a letter in the main tent.

The letter was addressed to Zhu Biao, a thick stack of paper.

He wrote the entire recent campaign from start to finish.

From the Ottomans' incursion into Tie Mu Er's residence, to the Battle of Fan City, the Battle of Ankara, the Battle of Bursa, the Battle of Constantinople, and then the pacification of the Balkan Peninsula, each event was recorded clearly.

At the end, he paused, then added a few more lines.

"Big brother, the Balkan Peninsula war is finished, Lazhaer has become obedient, the Hungarians no longer dare to move south, from Constantinople westward all the way to the Adriatic Sea, this route has been opened.

From Tie Mu Er's residence to Constantinople, the whole way is Great Ming territory.

Send officials; these places need governance, and also the railway—let it be quickly completed from Yingtian to Lanzhou!

The stretch from Lanzhou to Samarkhan, and Samarkhan to Constantinople, also needs to be built.

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

After finishing, he placed the letter in an envelope and handed it to Zhang Wu Dao: "Send fast riders to return it to Yingtian Prefecture."

Late May, Constantinople.

Zhu Di stood 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 symbol in the West.

The Second Prince has been away for almost two months.

From Constantinople westward, they fought all the way, reaching the Danube, Serbia, and the Adriatic coast.

He should be returning soon now!

"Prince, a letter has arrived from King Wu," the Vice General strode over, handing a letter.

Zhu Di took it, unfolded it.

"Fifth brother, the Balkan war is over, Lazhaer has surrendered, the Hungarians no longer dare to come.

How are things on your side? Is Constantinople stable? When I return, let's go together to see the Adriatic Sea." Zhu Di finished reading, a smile tugging at his mouth.

He turned, looking at Constantinople under the setting sun.

This millennial ancient city now belongs to the Zhu family.

From Yingtian Prefecture to here, tens of thousands of li.

The Second Prince advanced step by step, hammering down like a hammer.

In a few more years, once the railway is completed, traveling by train from Yingtian to here will take only a few months.

Then, Imperial Father and Imperial Mother can come to see this city their son captured.

"Send the order, prepare to welcome King Wu's triumphant return," he said to the Vice General.

Early June, Adrian Fortress.

Zhu Yong led fifteen thousand Longxiang Army, marching grandly back to this border stronghold.

At the city gate, the two thousand garrison soldiers formed a line to welcome them.

The townsfolk stood on the Street, heads lowered, watching the iron-armored troops pass before them.

No one dared to speak, but their eyes held both awe and gratitude.

The Ming forces had been here for two months, without burning, killing, looting, or forced conversion.

Those who should trade did trade, those who should live lived.

Aside from changing a banner, nothing else changed.

Zhu Yong rode through the Street, his expression calm.

He knew what these townspeople were thinking.

They cared not who the emperor was, only whether they could eat a full meal and survive.

The one who could give them stable days was a good emperor.

Returning to the Governor's Office, Zhu Yong sat in the courtyard.

Zhu Qiong Jiong crouched beside him, wiping the Wolf Fang Club with a rag.

The iron rod was smeared with fresh blood again; after half an hour it still wouldn't clean.

"Father, the Balkan campaign is over, where shall we fight next?" he asked, looking up.

Zhu Yong looked at his son; the light in the boy's eyes had not yet faded, still eager to fight.

But that battle was enough.

The Balkan Peninsula was taken, Lazhaer surrendered, the Hungarians became obedient.

From Constantinople westward to the Adriatic Sea, this route was opened.

"We won't fight anymore, let's rest first; this region is too vast, we must govern it slowly, we can't handle it all at once." Zhu Qiong Jiong nodded, then crouched again to continue wiping the Wolf Fang Club.

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

That way is the direction of the Adriatic Sea.

Further west are Italy, Rome, Frank, and England.

Too far.

This battle ends here for now.