Chapter 440: European Sick Man

Zhu Yong said nothing.

He folded the map, took two heavy golden hammers from his horse's saddle, and held them in his hands.

The 1,200‑jin hammers glimmered a dark‑gold in the sunlight.

"Longxiang Army, form formation."

Eighty thousand troops began to form formation.

Longxiang Army in front, the new troops behind, artillery on both sides. Five hundred rear‑mounted breech‑loading cannons lined up in a single row, their muzzles aimed at the Northern Region.

Iron armor flashed coldly in the sun, bayonets gleamed, warhorses snorted, their front hooves digging into the ground.

Flintlock Guns pointed skyward in unison, like a forest of steel.

In the distance, smoke rose on the horizon.

At first it was thin and scattered, then grew denser and thicker, covering half the sky.

The sound of hooves thundered like muffled thunder, shaking the earth.

Burgundian cavalry charged at the front, about five thousand riders, clad in multicolored armor, bearing various flags.

Some bore the Burgundian red‑white chevron flag, some the Breton black‑white flag, and a few the English golden‑flower flag.

Zhu Yong squinted and watched for a moment.

Five thousand cavalry, charging at the front.

Behind them followed infantry, about fifteen thousand, arranged in several square formations, advancing slowly.

Further back were the logistics troops and archers.

"This is the European sick man..." Zhu Di hummed from the side.

Zhu Yong said nothing, raising the hammer in his right hand.

"Fire the cannons..."

Five hundred rear‑mounted breech‑loading cannons fired simultaneously.

Bursting shells ripped through the air, trailing long tails, smashing into the Burgundian cavalry formation.

The cannonballs fell like hail, densely pelting the city wall.

"Boom—boom—boom..."

Explosions rang out, and in an instant the entire wall collapsed.

"Longxiang Army, charge with me."

Zhu Yong clamped the horse's belly, and the warhorse surged forward.

Eighty thousand troops followed closely, hooves thundering, shaking the earth.

He charged at the front, swinging Double Hammers left and right.

A Burgundian knight charged, his lance thrust at Zhu Yong's chest; he smashed one hammer to break the lance shaft, the other hammered the horse's head, the warhorse whinnied and fell, the knight was flung out and snapped his neck.

Another Breton infantryman raised a shield to block; Zhu Yong hammered down, shattering the shield and breaking the man's arm.

Behind him, eighty thousand Longxiang Army surged into the enemy ranks following his path, Flintlock Guns firing in unison, cavalry sabers slashing.

The Burgundian vanguard collapsed instantly.

Within less than half an hour, over half of the five thousand cavalry were dead or wounded, and the survivors turned and fled.

The infantry squares behind were also scattered, each fighting alone, a chaotic mess.

A middle‑aged man in ornate armor rode, swinging his sword and shouting something, his voice trembling.

"Prince, that is the Duke of Burgundy Thus Character: Wuweizhe Yuehan." Wang Gui rode up from behind.

Thus Character: Wuweizhe Yuehan...

Zhu Yong's face broke into a cold smile.

But Zhu Yong ignored him, gripping the Double Hammers and charging straight into the enemy center.

Several knights charged to block; he swept a hammer, sending five or six flying.

Another charged; he hammered the horse's head, the warhorse fell, the knight was crushed beneath, his scream cut off as hooves trampled over.

Thus Character: Wuweizhe Yuehan watched him draw nearer, his face turning deathly pale, and turned his horse to flee.

But he couldn't escape.

Zhu Di flanked from the left, slashing a flag‑bearer down, and the Burgundian red‑white chevron flag fell with a crash.

Li Wenzhong burst out from the right, leading a unit of Longxiang Army to block the retreat.

Thus Character: Wuweizhe Yuehan reined in his horse, staring at the iron‑clad soldiers all around, his sword clanged to the ground.

"I surrender, I surrender..."

Zhu Yong reined in his horse, looking down at him from above.

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

Behind, the Burgundian formation completely collapsed.

The soldiers dropped their weapons, knelt, clutching their heads with both hands.

The clatter of weapons hitting the ground rang out, tinkling like rain.

The Bretons fled fastest; seeing the Burgundian central flag fall, they turned and ran, disregarding formation.

The allied forces of Provence and Auvergne fled even faster, dispersing before reaching the front.

Zhu Yong did not pursue...

He reined in his horse, slung the hammer back onto the saddle, and wiped the blood from his face.

His body was covered in blood, but it wasn't his.

"Send word: gather the captives, clean the battlefield."

Wang Gui responded with a nod and led his men away.

Zhu Di spurred his horse forward, turned and dismounted.

"Second Prince, the Duke of Burgundy has been captured, the Bretons fled; shall we pursue?"

"Pursue... have the cousin lead five thousand men to chase, don't let them run back to Brittany."

Li Wenzhong answered, and led his men westward.

Zhu Yong turned around, looking at the prisoners kneeling on the ground.

Burgundy soldiers lined up, heads hung low, some crying, some trembling, some muttering something as if praying.

Thus Character: Wuweizhe Yuehan was bound tightly, kneeling on the ground, his complexion gray‑white.

His Gold Crown was askew, and his purple cloak was stained with mud and blood.

Zhu Yong looked at him, silent for a moment.

"Take him down, lock him up. Then, together with Cha Li Liu Shi, send him back to the Imperial Capital."

When Thus Character: Wuweizhe Yuehan was led down, his legs trembled.

By evening, the battlefield had been mostly cleared.

There were about twelve thousand prisoners, several thousand warhorses, and the Grain and Fodder stacked into a small hill.

Zhu Yong sat on a large Stone, watching the soldiers clean the battlefield.

Wang Gui came forward from a distance, holding a list in his hand.

"My lord, the prisoner count is finished: seven thousand Burgundians, three thousand Bretons, two thousand from Provence and Auvergne.

The Grain and Fodder will feed the army for two months."

Zhu Yong nodded.

"Enlist the prisoners as auxiliary troops, have them build roads, mine, plant cotton; those unwilling will be sent to Australia."

Wang Gui answered, then asked, "What about those nobles? Over twenty were captured, including counts, marquises, and some dukes' relatives."

"Their lands are confiscated, assets recorded, and they are sent to mine."

Wang Gui nodded, turned and left.

Zhu Yong stood up and walked to Thus Character: Wuweizhe Yuehan's Central Command Tent.

Inside the tent, a candle still burned, and a map was spread on the table.

The map marked every city, river, mountain range, and troop deployment across Burgundy.

Dijon lies in eastern Burgundy, the capital of Burgundy, and also the largest city in eastern France.

"Second Prince, what are you looking at?" Zhu Di came up from behind.

Zhu Yong pointed at Dijon on the map.

"Here, the capital of Burgundy; capture Dijon and Burgundy will be finished."

Zhu Di stared at the map, frowned, and said, "Dijon is inland, over two hundred li away, the route is all plains and hills."

"Plains are easy to fight on, hills too; our Flintlock Guns can fire in any terrain."

Zhu Di nodded and asked no further.

Zhu Yong turned, looking toward the Northern Region.

That direction leads to Dijon, the heart of Burgundy.

Take Dijon, and Burgundy will be finished.

With Burgundy gone, Brittany and Provence will not dare move.

Even if the English come, they cannot overturn the heavens.

Early the next day, the great army continued northward.

After two days' march, a small town appeared ahead.

The town was small, its walls low; a few soldiers stood at the gate, and upon seeing the iron‑black tide in the distance, they turned and fled.

Zhu Yong halted his horse and glanced.

"Send the order: bypass it. Do not assault the town; head straight for Dijon."

The army bypassed the town and kept moving north.

Two more days later, a large city loomed ahead.

The walls were high, gray‑hazy, emitting a dim glow in the sunlight.

People streamed in and out of the gate in chaotic disorder.

"My lord, ahead lies Dijon," Wang Gui rode up from behind.

Zhu Yong halted his horse, squinting as he watched for a while.

The walls were lined with soldiers, the artillery already set, the barrel mouths blackened and pointing outward.

The defending force numbered about five to six thousand, dressed in multicolored garb, wielding a variety of weapons.

"Form the ranks..."

Eighty thousand troops began to form ranks.

Five hundred rear‑mounted line‑fire cannons were arrayed in a line, their barrels aimed at Dijon's walls.

On the walls, the Burgundy defenders' faces changed.

They had never seen so many ironclad soldiers, never seen so many cannons.

Several nobles rode atop horses, running along the walls, brandishing swords and shouting something, but their voices trembled.

"Fire..."

The five hundred rear‑mounted line‑fire cannons fired simultaneously.

Shrapnel shells ripped through the air, striking Dijon's walls.

That's how simple artillery is...

"Longxiang Army, follow me to assault the city."

Zhu Yong gripped the horse's flank, and the warhorse surged forward.

Eighty thousand troops followed closely behind, their hooves thundering like thunder.

Dijon's garrison was far smaller than Paris's, only five thousand men, and they scattered in less than half an hour.

Zhu Yong stood on the central square of the city, looking at this capital of Burgundy.

The Street was narrower than Paris, but its filth and disorder were comparable.

Garbage and feces littered the ground everywhere, and the air was filled with a rotting stench.

A few Longxiang Army soldiers were clearing a pile of trash at a street corner, shoveling it with iron spades onto a cart.

While shoveling, the soldiers muttered curses, but at least the European townsfolk helped.

Ugh! They were forced to help.

Zhu Yong ignored them, his gaze falling on the great cathedral in the east of the city.

Stone-built, its spire soaring high, two stone pillars stood at the entrance, each topped with a cross.

Every city has a church, and the church here is truly impressive…

Zhu Di rode over and dismounted, flipping his horse.

"Second Prince, Dijon has been taken, where shall we strike next?"

Zhu Yong took out a map and spread it on the horse's back.

"Head north, attack Calais; the English fleet is arriving soon, Feng Sheng is alone over there, and his forces are insufficient."

Zhu Di stared at the map, frowned, and said, "Calais lies to the north, over three hundred li from here, and the whole route is plain."

"Plains are easier to fight on; our cavalry and artillery can be deployed."

Zhu Di nodded and asked no further.

Zhu Yong turned around, looking at the northern sky.

That direction points to Calais, the English's last foothold on the continent.

Capturing Calais would cut off the English's retreat.

Even if Henry V arrives, he cannot escape.