Chapter 465: Bridge Construction

On the same day the battle of Pei Lie Ke Pu Di Xia ended, America.

Chang Yuchun stood on the wall of Mexico City, gazing at the northern horizon.

The Qiqi Mek Grassland has already been swept clean by Lan Yu. The surrendering surrendered, the fleeing fled.

Now it's time to go south.

To the south lies the Inca Empire, the legendary Land of Gold.

The Incas built a vast empire in the Andes Mountains, far larger than the Aztecs, and with far more gold.

The wind from South America blows from the Andes, carrying the scent of snow‑capped mountains.

"General, the fleet is ready," Lan Yu said, walking up from below the city.

The western coast of America runs south along the Pacific, reaching straight into the heartland of the Inca Empire.

Chang Yuchun turned, and strode down the wall.

Three days later, outside the southern gate of Bakhchisaray.

The 80,000‑strong army was ready to set out.

Zhu Yong sprang onto his horse, took the Double Hammers handed over by Wang Gui, and glanced back at the capital of the Crimean Khanate.

The Great Ming banners on the wall fluttered in the morning breeze.

"Depart."

The army set off slowly, marching along the official road heading south.

After two days' march, a body of water appeared ahead.

"Prince, ahead is the Dnieper River," Wang Gui urged his horse forward.

The river was wide, its current swift, and the opposite bank a plain.

The Dnieper River, Ukraine's mother river, flows from north to south into the Black Sea.

Beyond this river lies the territory of the Ottoman Empire.

"Send the order: engineers, build a bridge."

The engineering corps began constructing the bridge.

Trees were felled, bound into rafts, planked, and nailed securely.

The troops crossed the pontoon bridge in formation, their iron boots thudding dully on the planks.

After crossing the river, three more days passed before a city appeared ahead.

"Prince, ahead is Odessa," Wang Gui urged his horse forward.

Odessa, the largest port city on the north coast of the Black Sea, is the Ottoman Empire's most important foothold there.

The Ottoman flag, red with a golden star, fluttered atop the wall.

Hundreds of cannons were mounted on the wall, their muzzles gaping blackly toward the north.

The defending garrison numbered about five to six thousand, comprising Turks, Tatars, and Greeks.

"Form the battle line…"

The 80,000‑strong army began forming its line beneath the city; five hundred breech‑loading cannons were arrayed in a line, their muzzles aimed at Odessa's walls.

"Fire…"

The five hundred breech‑loading cannons fired simultaneously.

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

The wall was blown open with a huge breach.

Zhu Yong charged into the city at the head of his horse.

The 80,000‑strong army followed closely, Flintlock Guns firing in unison, sabers slashing.

The defenders of Odessa fought to the death, but before the iron hooves of Great Ming, any resistance was futile.

In less than two hours, the city fell.

Odessa was taken, and the Ottoman Empire's foothold on the north coast of the Black Sea was eliminated.

At dusk, Zhu Yong stood on Odessa's wall, looking toward the southern horizon.

There, the direction of Constantinople.

The Black Sea wind blew from the south, carrying a salty, briny scent.

"Prince, we captured a few Ottoman nobles," Wang Gui asked, climbing up from below the city.

"The land is confiscated, assets registered, and the people sent to mine."

Wang Gui responded with a nod and turned away.

Meanwhile, Li Wenzhong led the newly arrived 80,000 fresh troops along the Land Route, already entering the Balkan Peninsula.

Feng Sheng set out from Bordeaux, bringing thirty thousand naval forces, pressing toward Constantinople from the Mediterranean.

The three armies advanced side by side.

Half a month later, beneath Constantinople.

Zhu Yong halted his horse, gazing at the millennial ancient city in the distance.

The walls still towered, stretching from the Sea of Marmara to the Golden Horn.

The Ottoman flag, red with a golden star, fluttered atop the ramparts.

The walls were packed with soldiers, the cannons already in place, their muzzles gaping blackly toward the outside.

The defending force numbered about twenty to thirty thousand.

Muhammad I stood on the tower, looking at the distant sea of iron armor, his complexion ashen.

"Form the battle line…" The 80,000‑strong army began arranging its formation outside the city.

Five hundred breech‑loading cannons were arrayed in a line, their muzzles aimed at Constantinople's walls.

On the city wall, the Ottoman garrison's complexion changed.

"Fire the cannons."

Five hundred rear‑mounted breech‑loading cannons fired simultaneously. Shrapnel shells struck Constantinople's city wall.

Bricks and stones shattered, and smoke rose to the heavens.

After several rounds of bombardment, a breach was blown in the city wall.

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

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

Eighty thousand troops followed closely behind, their hoofbeats thundering.

They charged at the front, carrying Double Hammers as they rushed through the breach into the city, swinging the Double Hammers left and right.

An Ottoman guard wielding a spear charged forward; one hammer smashed the spear shaft, and the other hammer struck the man's chest.

The iron armor buckled, and the whole body was flung outward.

Behind them, Li Wenzhong led the left flank army to break through from the west, Zhu Di led the right flank army to break through from the east, and Feng Sheng led the navy to land from the sea, striking straight into the Ottoman rear.

Four armies, attacking from all four sides.

The Ottoman formation was completely thrown into chaos.

The soldiers didn't know where to run, and the officers couldn't locate their own units.

Muhammad I was hoisted by several Imperial Troops, stumbling toward the palace.

Unable to run half a li, they were blocked by a squad of Longxiang Army cavalry.

Zhu Yong spurred his horse forward, looking at the Sultan kneeling on the ground.

"I surrender, I surrender," Muhammad I's voice trembled.

Zhu Yong said calmly, "It would have been better if it had been like this earlier."

Behind them, Ottoman soldiers knelt everywhere.

Constantinople—taken.

The last empire on the European continent, the Ottoman Turkey, was annihilated.

At dusk, Zhu Yong stood on the steps before Hagia Sophia, gazing at the millennial ancient city.

The setting sun turned the whole city into a wash of blood red.

On the city wall, Great Ming's banner had already replaced the Ottoman red field with a Jin star, fluttering in the evening breeze.

In the distance, on the Sea of Marmara, the steamboat's lights flickered like stars.

"Prince, General Chang's military report from America," Wang Gui said as he walked up from behind.

Zhu Yong took it, unfolded it.

Chang Yuchun's handwriting was as rough and careless as always.

The Inca Empire had already fallen.

They landed along the Pacific coast, crossed the Andes Mountains, and thrust straight into the Inca capital, Cusco.

The Inca king was captured, the nobles surrendered, the commoners were registered, and the lands were being divided.

The pyramids were dismantled, the statues smashed, and the Sun Temple turned into a school.

Gold and Silver were being tallied, estimated at no less than five million taels.

Zhu Yong finished reading, folded the report neatly, and slipped it into his sleeve.

Over in America, it was also nearing its end.

From Portugal to Moscow, from Moscow to Crimea, from Crimea to Constantinople.

Two years have passed, and the European continent finally finished its war.

The remaining small states need not be dealt with personally by them.

Send out a few tens of thousands of troops, and take each city one by one.

The night was thick, and the camp outside Constantinople glowed with bright bonfires.

Zhu Yong sat in the Central Command Tent, with a full map of Europe spread before him.

The red areas indicated territories already under control, covering more than ninety percent of the European continent.

The remaining small states trembled within the red‑encircled zone.

"Prince, those European small states have sent envoys," Wang Gui said as he entered from outside the tent.

"Which ones..."

"Venice, Genoa, Milan, Naples, the Papal State, and several German minor princes are waiting outside the city, wishing to see you."

Zhu Yong's mouth twitched slightly upward.

In negotiations, the Europeans were clever: if they couldn't win, they negotiated; if talks failed, they fought again.

"Let them wait; we'll discuss it tomorrow."

Wang Gui responded with a nod and turned away.

Zhu Yong stood up and walked out of the Central Command Tent.

The night in Constantinople was beautiful. In the distance, Hagia Sophia's dome glimmered with a dark‑gold light under Moonlight, and the Sea of Marmara's surface sparkled.

The European war finally ended.