Chapter 432: City of Toledo

When the news that Zaragoza had been taken reached Toledo, it was already the evening of the third day.

Zhu Yong stood on the palace tower, clutching the military report in his hand, and read it twice.

Zhu Di's handwriting was consistently clean and crisp, the battle report clear: three thousand defenders, two thousand captured, four hundred killed, the rest fled.

The Gold and Silver in the palace had been counted, about 800,000 taels.

The church had already been cleared, and the priest was escorted to the camp outside the city.

"Prince, Prince Yan fought this battle splendidly," Wang Gui said, standing beside him with a smile on his face.

Zhu Yong folded the report and said calmly, "The Aragonese main force is still on the western front watching the third brother; the eastern front is empty. If he cannot even take Zaragoza, all those years in the Western Regions have been in vain."

Wang Gui nodded, then asked, "What's the next move? Alfonso V is still on the western front, with over 20,000 men."

Zhu Yong turned and walked down from the tower.

"Send a message to Prince Yan, have him advance westward from Zaragoza, cutting off the Aragonese rear; send a message to Prince Qin, have him press from the eastern front, holding the Aragonese in front."

"With a two‑pronged attack, Alfonso V cannot escape."

Wang Gui responded with a word and turned away.

Zhu Yong walked back to the study and sat at the desk.

A map of the Iberian Peninsula was spread on the table.

Portugal and Castile had already been taken; Aragon was being wrapped up, and Granada in the far south of the peninsula is a small state, not urgent.

With Aragon taken, the entire Iberian Peninsula would be in Great Ming's hands.

He picked up his pen and began to write a letter.

The letter was addressed to Zhu Biao, summarizing the recent battles briefly.

Castile is stable, Aragon is being wrapped up, Alfonso V cannot hold out for long.

At the end, he paused, then added a few lines: "Brother, the faith the Europeans follow is far more domineering than our Buddhism and Daoism; the Pope in Rome, and the kings of European nations must obey him, his power knows no bounds."

Such a faith cannot be retained; otherwise even if we conquer Europe, chaos will return in decades. The churches have already been turned into schools; priests who should return to lay life have done so, and those who should be dismissed have been dismissed.

Later, you should send some Daoist priests and Confucian scholars over, so the Europeans can also study our sages' texts.

When finished, he folded the letter and handed it to the Imperial Troops outside.

"Send it back to the Heavenly Prefecture."

"Yes..."

After the Imperial Troops withdrew, Zhu Yong stood up and walked to the window.

The night in Toledo was very quiet.

In the distance, the mountain ridges were faintly visible in the night, and the Great Ming banners on the city walls fluttered rustling in the night wind.

Zaragoza lies two hundred li west.

Zhu Di halted his horse and gazed at the distant horizon.

The army had been marching continuously for three days.

From Zaragoza, advancing west along the Ebro River Valley, covering eighty li each day; the men did not shed their armor, the horses did not unstrap their saddles.

"Prince, the scouts have returned," the Vice General shouted as he rode up.

Zhu Di took the report and unfolded it.

The Aragonese main force is at the Castile border, less than 150 li from here.

Alfonso V already knows that Zaragoza has been taken, and is consolidating his troops, apparently intending to retreat.

"If he tries to flee... send the order, accelerate the whole army, reach Alhert before nightfall," Zhu Di said with a slight smile.

"Yes..."

The 10,000 Longxiang Army quickened its marching speed.

At dusk, the army arrived at Alhert.

It is a small town of about a hundred households, situated at a bend in the Ebro River Valley.

Zhu Di did not enter the town, but set up camp on the open ground outside.

A campfire was lit, and the soldiers sat around it, gnawing Dry Rations and drinking water.

Zhu Di sat on a large Stone, with a map spread before him.

The Aragonese main force is to the northwest, about 120 li. The third brother is on the eastern front, a little farther from here.

The two‑pronged attack must arrive simultaneously; Alfonso V must not be allowed to escape.

"Prince, a letter has arrived from Prince Qin," the Vice General said as he walked from the camp tent.

Zhu Di took it and unfolded it.

Zhu Shuang's letter was brief but clear: he has gathered 15,000 men west of Cuenca, and will set out early tomorrow, pressing from the east.

"Send the order: tomorrow at the fifth watch prepare meals, and at daybreak depart."

"Yes..."

Early the next morning, the army continued westward.

After about two hours, scouts reported ahead: the Aragonese main force is twenty li away, retreating north.

"Northward, he wants to cross the mountains...," Zhu Di frowned.

The Vice General pointed at the map and said, "Prince, to the north lies the Pyrenees; beyond it is France. Alfonso V is trying to flee."

Zhu Di stared at the map for a moment, then suddenly smiled.

"He cannot escape; send the order, pursue at full speed."

The 10,000 Longxiang Army began a forced march.

Flintlock Guns were loaded, bayonets drawn, warhorses whinnied, and the clatter of iron armor rang through the valley.

After about an hour of pursuit, the dust of the Aragonese rear column appeared ahead.

Zhu Di drew his saber and thrust it into the horse's belly.

"Longxiang Army, charge with me!"

Ten thousand troops roared in unison, the hoofbeats sounding like muffled thunder.

The Aragon rear guard clearly hadn't expected the Ming army to arrive so quickly.

They were scrambling northward in panic, their formation scattered, unable to watch each other's front and rear.

Zhu Di surged ahead, cutting down a cavalryman who fell behind.

The Longxiang Army behind him surged forward, firing flintlock guns and hacking with sabers.

The Aragon rear guard collapsed instantly, dropping weapons and fleeing north.

Zhu Di did not stop, pressing his men onward.

After about five li, an open plain appeared ahead.

The Aragon main force was gathering there, about twenty thousand strong, their formation not yet set.

Alfonso V rode a white horse, brandishing his sword and shouting something, but no one listened.

The soldiers hurriedly formed ranks; the front line hadn't steadied, the rear were already fleeing backward.

Zhu Di halted his horse, watching the chaotic formation.

"Fire..."

Dozens of rear‑loaded muzzle cannons were pushed to the front line.

"Boom Boom Boom..."

Shrapnel shells slammed into the Aragon formation, erupting clouds of blood mist.

Cavalry were blown so that riders and horses were thrown, infantry scattered in all directions.

After three rounds of cannon fire, the Aragon formation was completely in chaos.

Zhu Di drew his saber and pointed at Alfonso V's Marshal banner.

"Longxiang Army, follow me to break the enemy!"

Ten thousand troops surged into the Aragon formation, like a red‑hot iron knife plunged into butter.

Zhu Di charged at the front, slashing left and right with his saber.

An Aragon knight charged, his spear thrust toward Zhu Di's chest; he sidestepped and slashed the man's neck.

Another infantryman raised a shield in front; he struck the shield with a slash, shattering it and breaking the man's arm.

The Longxiang Army behind him followed, charging toward the Central Command.

Alfonso V watched the blood‑soaked figure draw nearer, his face turning ashen.

"Retreat, quickly retreat!" He turned his horse around and fled backward.

The Marshal's banner fell, the Central Command was thrown into disorder.

Twenty thousand Aragon troops, the front units ran backward, the rear units, unaware of what had happened, also ran.

Zhu Di chased to the Central Command Tent and slashed the Aragon Marshal's banner.

The banner embroidered with red‑yellow stripes fell with a thud.

Alfonso V ran less than half a li before a squad of Longxiang cavalry blocked his path.

He halted his horse, stared at the iron‑clad soldiers, and his sword clanged to the ground with a "clang".

"I surrender, I surrender..."

Zhu Di rode forward, looking down at him from above.

"It would have been better if it had been like this earlier."

Behind him, more than twenty thousand Aragon soldiers knelt on the ground.

The clatter of weapons hitting the ground rang out.

Toledo City.

Zhu Yong stood on the palace tower, gazing at the eastern sky.

Zhu Shuang was on the eastern front, Zhu Di west of Zaragoza, Zhu Gang in Porto.

The four brothers were stationed in four locations, but their goal was the same.

"Prince, a letter from Prince Yan." Wang Gui walked up from the stairwell.

Zhu Yong took it and unfolded it.

Zhu Di's letter was brief: "Second Prince, Alfonso V has been captured, the Aragon main force has collapsed, we are rounding up the prisoners. Next step, please advise."

Zhu Yong finished reading, a slight smile tugged at his mouth.

"Send orders to have Prince Yan gather the prisoners; those to be conscripted into auxiliary troops, conscript them; those to be sent to mining, send them to the mines; the Aragon nobles, treat them the same as in Castile. Seize the churches and convert them into schools.

Clerics who wish to return to lay life receive land; those who refuse are sent to Australia."

Wang Gui responded with a nod, then asked, "And Alfonso V? How shall we deal with him?"

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "First keep him detained, and when the King of Castile captures him, send him back to Yingtianfu."

"Understood."

Wang Gui turned and left.

Zhu Yong stood on the tower, looking at the eastern sky.

Aragon has fallen, the Iberian Peninsula is now in Great Ming's hands.

Next, we must cross the Pyrenees and head to France.

France, one of the largest nations on the European continent.

It has a large population and strong forces, not easier to fight than Portugal or Castile.

But even if it is difficult, it must be fought.

He turned around and walked down the tower.