Chapter 434: France

They rode a reddish‑brown horse, their iron armor covered in dust, their face also dusty, but their eyes shone frighteningly.

"Second Prince!" they dismounted, leapt and ran up the tower.

Zhu Yong looked at them, smiling: "Back already, is the wrap‑up over at Alargon?"

"It's done. Alfonso V is locked in the camp, his queen and prince are also locked up. Alargon's nobles have been seized, the ones to be killed have been killed, the churches have been confiscated and turned into schools, priests who should be laicized have been laicized, and those who should be sent away have been sent away."

Zhu Di took the Water Bag handed over by Wang Gui, gulped down most of it in one go, and wiped his mouth.

"Second Prince, I heard the cousin and General Feng have arrived?"

"They've arrived. In the city, the cousin went to search for the King of Castile, and General Feng is inspecting the captives in the camp."

Zhu Di grinned: "Is Cousin's body up to it?"

"He was rescued by the Nine‑Turn Resurrection Pill, has been nurtured for so long, it's almost ready."

Zhu Di nodded, then asked: "Second Prince, what's the plan next? Head to France?"

"Yes, to France. Three days later we set out from Lisbon, travel by sea, bypass Spain, land on the southern coast of France, and head straight for Bordeaux."

Zhu Di's eyes lit up.

"Second Prince, I'll lead the vanguard!"

Zhu Yong glanced at them and said: "No rush; fight what we have. France is far larger than Spain, with more people and stronger forces; you can't finish it alone."

Zhu Di chuckled, saying nothing more.

At night, Zhu Yong set a Banquet in the palace, welcoming Li Wenzhong and Feng Sheng.

The dishes were simple: roasted lamb, flatbread, and Wine, all shipped from Portugal.

After three rounds of Wine, Li Wenzhong set down his cup, looked at Zhu Yong and said: "Prince, you've been fighting here in Europe for several months; how do you feel?"

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said: "Europeans aren't good at war, but the land is vast, there are many states; conquering is easy, governing is hard."

Li Wenzhong nodded: "If governing is hard, then govern slowly; one generation won't suffice, two generations won't, three generations."

Feng Sheng said beside him: "Prince, the old minister has heard that the faith Europeans follow is far more domineering than our Buddhism and Daoism; the Pope in Rome wields boundless power, even kings must obey him."

Zhu Yong nodded: "Exactly, that's why the churches were confiscated and turned into schools, priests laicized, and those to be expelled sent away. Later we'll have the elder brother send some Daoists and Confucian scholars over, so Europeans can study our holy sage books."

Feng Sheng laughed: "Prince, this idea is good; those Europeans have believed in God for centuries, their minds are muddled, it's time for a change."

Li Wenzhong also smiled.

When the Banquet dispersed, it was already Hai Hour.

Zhu Yong stood at the palace gate, watching the Moonlight above.

The Moonlight was full and bright, shining on Toledo's city walls, the stones glowing a pale blue under it.

In the distance, a church spire flickered in the night, but the church bells had already ceased.

He stood for a while, then turned and walked back inside.

Three days later, Lisbon harbor.

Before dawn, the harbor was already bustling.

One hundred twenty steamships stood ready, their smokestacks belching black smoke, the roar of the steam engines deafening.

One hundred‑thousand troops lined the dock, iron armor like a forest, Flintlock Guns all pointed toward the sky.

Warhorses whinnied, War Flags fluttered.

Zhu Yong stood on the bow of the "Wu Wang" ship, gazing at the distant sea.

Zhu Gang stood on the dock, his face full of unwillingness.

"Second Prince, you really won't let me go?"

"Stay in Portugal, keep an eye on this side; France will have me and the fifth brother, that's enough."

Zhu Gang pursed his lips, saying nothing more.

Zhu Di came up from behind, standing beside Zhu Yong.

Li Wenzhong and Feng Sheng stood on another ship, checking equipment.

Zhu Yong gave one last glance at Zhu Gang on the shore, turned and said to the messenger behind him: "Depart."

The whistle blew.

One hundred twenty steamships slowly set off, leaving the harbor toward the open sea.

On the sea, the fleet formed a long line, the flags on the masts snapping in the sea breeze.

A red field, a golden dragon, fangs and claws spread, majestic and imposing.

Zhu Yong stood at the bow, looking at the distant sea.

There, lies the direction of France, deep within the European continent.

He doesn't know how long the war will last, but he knows that as long as he keeps marching north, someday Great Ming's flag will be planted across all of Europe.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

Zhu Qiong Jiong emerged from the cabin, carrying the Wolf Fang Club; the twelve‑year‑old boy, sun‑tanned and muscular, walked with a fierce stride.

"Father, are we going to attack France?"

"Yes."

Zhu Qiong Jiong grinned: "I heard France is larger than Spain; conquering it would expand our territory considerably."

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

This child has an appetite even bigger than his father's was back then.

"It's big, but hard to fight; France has a large population and strong forces, not easier than Spain."

"Then how shall we fight?"

"We fight from the sea, bypass their main forces, and take their ports directly."

Zhu Qiong Jiong's eyes lit up.

"Capture the thief by first capturing the king?"

Zhu Yong nodded, and said nothing further.

The fleet sailed north along the coastline.

Portugal's coastline is very straight; after passing Lisbon, the coast gradually became steep, cliffs rose everywhere, and flat beaches were rarely seen.

After two days, the fleet rounded the northwest tip of Spain and entered the Bay of Biscay.

The sea color changed, from deep blue to ink green, and the wind and waves grew larger.

A few small boats were tossed violently, and the soldiers on board vomited profusely.

Zhu Gang was not present, and no one got seasick.

Zhu Yong stood at the bow, his expression unchanged.

After three days, the outline of land appeared ahead.

"Your Highness, ahead is France's coastline," Wang Gui walked up from behind, pointing at the grayish land in the distance.

Zhu Yong squinted, watched for a while, then said, "Pass Command, vanguard dock, artillery prepare."

The Command was relayed, and twenty vanguard ships accelerated toward the shore.

The French on the shore clearly noticed this massive fleet.

Horn Sound wailed, and the soldiers scrambled toward the shore, some shouting, some moving ammunition, in utter chaos.

"Fire the cannons."

Three hundred rear‑mounted line‑of‑sight cannons fired simultaneously.

Shrapnel shells ripped through the morning mist, trailing long tails, and struck the shore.

In the first volley, a Stone Castle on the shore was blown down, bricks and stones shattered, and smoke rose to the sky.

In the second volley, several small boats docked in the harbor were blown up and sank, spraying water everywhere.

In the third volley, the French soldiers on the shore began to rout.

"Land," Zhu Yong led the way, stepping down from the gangplank.

Both feet stepped onto the beach; the sand was soft and spongy, sinking half a foot in.

He looked up at the French land and took a deep breath.

The air carried a sea scent, a hint of grass, and a faint foul smell.

It was somewhat better than Portugal, but not much better.

"Form the formation."

Ten thousand Longxiang Army lined up on the beach; the front rank of a thousand crouched, Flintlock Guns held level, the middle rank of two thousand stood with barrels forward, the rear rank of two thousand rested lightly, ready to rotate.

Zhu Yong lifted the Double Hammers and strode inland.

Behind, ten thousand Longxiang Army followed, the clatter of iron armor echoing across the beach.

After about one hour's march, a small town appeared ahead.

The town was small, with a hundred households; the houses were built of Stone, the Street narrow, littered with trash and excrement everywhere.

The air was filled with a rotting stench, similar to Portugal.

Zhu Yong frowned and led the men into the town.

The townsfolk, seeing this iron‑armored army, fled into their houses, sealing doors and windows.

A few brave ones peeked through the window cracks, their eyes full of terror.

Zhu Yong ignored them, leading the men through the town, continuing north.

After another hour, a large city loomed ahead.

The city walls were tall, grayish, emitting a dull glow under the sun.

At the city gate, people came and went, some entering, some leaving, in chaotic disorder.

"Your Highness, ahead is Bordeaux," Wang Gui walked up from behind.

Zhu Yong squinted, watched for a moment, then said, "Pass Command, prepare for siege."