Video Editor

The allied forces camp was set up outside Rome, and more than a month passed in the blink of an eye.

With 500,000 troops, the daily consumption of food and fodder was astonishing.

The initial enthusiasm for fighting the enemy had long been worn away by the daily wait.

The soldiers went from being eager to fight to being bored, and now they are full of complaints.

The first problem to arise was with the food supplies.

The Franks brought the most provisions, as they were the main force of Charles II, the commander-in-chief of the allied army, and had collected three months' worth of provisions from all over the Frankish regions.

But Charles II said that the provisions should be allocated uniformly, and everyone should be fed first, and then we would deal with any shortages.

The Italians were the first to jump up.

It should be noted that the Italian camp was located in the southeast corner of the allied camp, the closest to Rome.

Their supply wagons were parked at the camp, dozens of them fully loaded, enough to last for two months.

But Charles II wanted to distribute these provisions to others with just a word?
The Italian general Giovanni was a fat man in his forties with a fiery temper; he was easily provoked.

He stormed into the Frankish camp, kicked open the quartermaster's tent, and pointed at the man's nose, yelling, "Unified allocation? By what right? Why should we give our own rations to others?"

The Frankish quartermaster, a thin middle-aged man, explained with a forced smile, "General Giovanni, this is for the greater good! We'll return the supplies to you once the Roman Empire's provisions arrive."

"Return it?" Giovanni sneered. "With what? When will the Roman Empire's provisions arrive? And even if they do, will they return them? When have you Franks ever kept your word?"

The quartermaster tried to explain, but Giovanni had already turned and left.

When Giovanni returned to the camp, he immediately led his men to surround the supply wagons and prevented anyone from touching them.

Dozens of Italian soldiers, carrying crossbows, stood guard beside the supply wagons, glaring at anyone who approached.

It's well known that the Italian army is known for its love of luxury, which is considered a "fine tradition" of theirs, so how could they allow their interests to be harmed?

……

When Charles II heard about this, he personally intervened to mediate.

He arrived at the Italian camp with a squad of his personal guards.

Giovanni finally gave Charles II some face and withdrew his men.

But a grudge has been formed.

Just a few days after the issue of provisions was resolved, the water supply was disrupted.

There was a river next to the Allied camp called the Tiber River, which was where everyone drew water.

The river is not wide and the current is not rapid, but for 500,000 people, this amount of water is simply not enough.

The Hungarian and Polish camps were closest to the river, so they occupied the upstream area first, leaving those downstream with no choice but to drink the water they had used.

The people of the Roman Empire were outraged.

Otto, a general of the Roman Empire, was a veteran in his fifties who had fought all his life and had a notoriously bad temper.

He led a squad of soldiers upstream, pointed at the Hungarians, and cursed, "You wash horses and vegetables upstream, and all the filth flows down. What are we supposed to drink?"

Hungarian General László retorted, "Is the river yours? Who says we can't wash horses upstream? We Hungarians drink mare's milk, not water. What's wrong with washing horses?"

"you……"

The argument escalated, and eventually a physical fight broke out.

A dozen or so Hungarians and twenty or so Roman soldiers were locked in a fierce fight, clubs flying everywhere, heads bleeding profusely.

Some people picked up sticks, some picked up stones, and some simply used their fists.

Shouts of killing, screams of agony, and curses mingled together.

By the time the generals from both sides arrived and separated the people, they were already lying on the ground.

More than twenty people were beaten until their heads were bleeding, three or four had broken arms, and two were unconscious.

Charles II, enraged, smashed his cup. "Fight! Keep fighting! Every one we kill is one less to lose!"

Sure enough, upon hearing that their leader, Charles II, was angry, everyone quieted down and turned back.

Charles II could control the situation this time, but he couldn't control it next time.

A few days later, the English and the Franks were at odds again.

The English longbowmen were known as the best in the world.

When they arrived, they brought with them specially made long arrows, with thick and long shafts made of the finest yew wood, which could shoot far and were highly lethal.

The Frankish cavalry coveted the arrows and wanted to trade them for horses.

The English won't change.

The Franks raised the price again, offering two horses for a bundle of arrows.

I'm still not changing it.

After a few exchanges, a Frankish cavalryman, being a bit cheeky, remarked, "The English are stingy; no wonder they were beaten to a pulp by us Franks back then."

When this reached the ears of the English, it caused an uproar.

Edward, the English general, was a young man in his thirties, blond and blue-eyed, with a fiery temper.

Edward led a group of men to the Frankish camp, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Who said that? Step forward!"

The Franks, of course, would not step forward.

But the English wouldn't let it go, chasing after the Frankish cavalry and hurling insults.

The Frankish cavalry were not to be outdone, and the two sides exchanged insults across their camps for a day and a night.

"English barbarians!"

"Franken pig!"

"Your longbows are only good for shooting rabbits!"

"Your cavalry only know how to chase sheep!"

Finally, after a barrage of insults, General Edward declared, "You want us to fight for the Franks? Dream on! I'll take my men back tomorrow!"

Soon, Charles II rushed over to put out the fire, and after much persuasion, he finally managed to calm the people down.

You might be able to dissuade them this time, but there will be a next time.

Moreover, Charles II was also suffering as the leader of the alliance. He sincerely hoped that the Great Zhou National Defense Army could launch an attack sooner, so that everyone could die together and be reborn sooner.

Meanwhile, the troops from smaller countries like Spain, Burgundy, Hungary, and Poland were already marginalized, receiving less food and supplies, and never getting good positions. They had to be subservient to others in everything they did.

They had been dissatisfied for a long time.

Someone in the camp spread the word: "The Franks, the Romans, the Italians, the English—they all got territory to divide after the war. What about us? After the war, we'll go back home and get nothing."

Why should we risk our lives for them?

"Exactly, why should I?"

These words spread like wildfire, and the morale of the small countries' troops plummeted.

Some people started secretly packing their bags, preparing to slip away under the cover of night.

Some people simply pretended to be sick and hid in their tents, refusing to come out.

Some even began contacting the enemy, preparing to surrender.

……

Charles II was in a terrible predicament.

He immediately convened a meeting of generals from various countries to discuss a solution.

But before the meeting could even begin, another incident occurred.

This time, it was Italians and Romans fighting over a woman.

It's very simple.

An Italian officer took a liking to a washerwoman in a Roman camp and went to harass her.

The woman's husband was a soldier in the Roman Empire. When he saw his wife being harassed, he knocked the Italian officer to the ground with a stick.

The Italians were outraged. They gathered several dozen men and stormed the Holy Roman Empire's camp demanding an explanation.

The Romans also gathered several dozen people and blocked the entrance, preventing them from entering.

The two groups were on the verge of a fight, swords drawn and arrows nocked.

When Charles II arrived, some people had already been injured.

Seven or eight people were lying on the ground, blood was everywhere, and groans rose and fell.

He stood between the two groups and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Stop it, both of you!"

However, this time no one paid any attention to him.

Charles II led his personal guards forward and forcibly separated the two sides.

Although they separated, the grudge between them deepened.

……

That night, the Italian general Giovanni approached Charles II and made a request: "Your Majesty, we Italians want to camp separately, far away from the Roman Empire. Otherwise, we will not be responsible if a war breaks out."

Charles II gritted his teeth and agreed.

But he knew in his heart that once this precedent was set, others would make the same demands.

Sure enough, the next day, the English also requested to camp separately.

On the third day, the Hungarians also requested to camp separately.

On the fourth day, the troops from those smaller countries simply moved to a different location, keeping far away from everyone else.

The once continuous Allied forces camp is now scattered here and there, like a leaky sieve.

……

Constantinople.

Crown Prince Guo Wen of the Great Zhou Dynasty sat in his command tent, looking at the secret report sent by the Imperial City Guard, and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

The secret report was thick, over twenty pages long, detailing every conflict, argument, and clash within the Allied forces' camp.

From disputes over provisions to conflicts over water resources, from verbal battles between the English and Franks to armed clashes between the Italians and the Romans, each incident is clearly described.

"Brother, what's making you so happy?" King Zhao Guo Wu asked, his face full of curiosity.

Guo Wen handed him the secret report.

After reading it, King Zhao Guo Wu laughed heartily, “The fighting hasn’t even started yet, and the European coalition is already in complete chaos. This coalition of 500,000 men is about the same as 500,000 sheep. No, they’re even worse than sheep, at least sheep know to huddle together.”

Prince Guo Zhi of Jin, who was standing to the side, asked, "Brother, when shall we make our move?"

Guo Wen shook his head. "No rush."

He stood up, walked to the map, and ordered all troops to rest for another half month.

"Half a month?" Guo Wu's eyes widened. "Brother, the allied forces are in such a mess, what are we waiting for?"

Guo Wen glanced at him. "Wait until they become even more chaotic. If we act now, they might be pushed to the limit and try to band together. Let's wait another half month, until they're completely scattered and disunited, before we make our move."

Guo Gong nodded. "Brother is right. Let them exhaust their morale, their energy, and their supplies. Then we can fight them without lifting a finger."

Guo Wu said, "What if they run away?"

Guo Wen laughed, “Run? Where to run? The Mediterranean Sea is behind them, and we are in front of them. They can’t escape. Besides, what we all want is their hometown.”

Outside the window, the sun is setting.

Outside Rome, inside the allied camp, a new round of arguments began.

……

In the summer of the thirtieth year of the prosperous era, outside Constantinople, two hundred thousand troops of the Great Zhou Dynasty stood in formation, ready to depart.

Before dawn, people were already shouting and horses were neighing outside the city.

Looking down from the city tower, the winding procession resembled a giant dragon, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Banners blotted out the sun, and swords and spears formed a forest.

The artillery battalion's three thousand general cannons were lined up in a row, their dark muzzles pointing westward.

The cannons were made of high-quality steel, each weighing several thousand kilograms. They were mounted on rubber wheels and towed by internal combustion engine trucks.

The gunners are doing final checks, wiping the breech, loading shells, and adjusting the angle.

Truckloads of rockets were loaded, with dozens of rockets lined up side by side in those large iron boxes. Once ignited, they could shoot out dozens of arrows, creating a vast, overwhelming barrage.

The thunderbolts were piled up like small mountains, each fist-sized iron lump filled with gunpowder and plugged with a fuse, waiting to be thrown into the enemy lines.

Guo Wen stood on the city wall, with five brothers standing behind him...

King Guo Zhi of Jin, King Guo Wu of Zhao, King Guo Gong of Yan, King Guo Qian of Chu, and King Guo Qiu of Qi.

Below the city gate, the army was ready.

Pan Mei rode his horse at the very front.

Guo Wen was dressed in a bright yellow military uniform, with a knife at his waist and a command flag on his back.

Pan Mei's figure stood out prominently in the sunlight.

Following behind were Gao Huaide, Yang Ye, Murong Yanzhao, Yang Yanzhao...

These are all veterans who have fought alongside Suning their entire lives, each with extensive combat experience.

Gao Huaide is over sixty years old, with gray hair, but he stands ramrod straight.

Yang Ye was over fifty years old, his face weathered, but his eyes sharp.

Murong Yanzhao was in his forties, in the prime of his life, and full of energy.

Yang Yanzhao was young, in his early thirties, and full of vigor.

"General Pan," Guo Wen called from the city tower, "I entrust the army to you."

Pamela halted his horse, turned back, and clasped his hands in a fist salute. "Your Highness, rest assured, I will not fail in my mission. Within three months, I will conquer Rome and sweep across Europe!"

The army set off.

Two hundred thousand people marched westward in a grand procession.

The sound of horses' hooves was deafening, and the wheels of carriages rumbled loudly.

The flags fluttered in the wind, the large "Zhou" character on them resembling a burning flame. From a high vantage point, the winding procession looked like a giant dragon, slowly swimming westward.

……

Outside Rome, the allied camp is now in complete chaos.

The 500,000 people were divided into more than a dozen camps, scattered in different places, and none of them would submit to the others.

The Frankish camp was the largest, situated in the center, surrounded by Roman, Italian, and English camps.

The camps of those small countries' troops were scattered around, far away from everyone.

Food and fodder are scarce, water resources are in dispute, and everyone has their own ulterior motives.

Charles II was in a state of utter chaos, dealing not with how to wage war, but with how to mediate disputes.

Today the Italians and Holy Romans quarrel, tomorrow the English and Franks curse, and the day after tomorrow the Hungarians and Poles fight.

Standing in the command tent, looking at the mess of military reports, Charles II was completely overwhelmed.

"Your Majesty," the lieutenant whispered, "about Zhou Jun's side..."

What happened to Zhou Jun?

"I heard they're still in Constantinople, and there's been no movement from them."

Charles II was taken aback. "What? There's still no movement?"

"Yes! It's been over a month, and there's still no sign of anything."

Charles II frowned.

Why isn't Zhou Jun moving?
What are they waiting for?
What Charles II didn't know was that Zhou Jun wasn't standing still; he was waiting for their allied forces to fall into disarray.

……

That morning, a scout arrived on horseback to report.

The sound of horses' hooves grew louder as the sound grew closer. A scout covered in dirt rushed into the command tent, kneeling on one knee. "Your Majesty! The Zhou army is here!"

Charles II stood up abruptly. "How many people?"

"At least two hundred thousand! They're less than a hundred miles away! The vanguard has already crossed the Danube and is advancing this way!"

Charles II's face turned pale. "Quickly, summon the generals of all nations to discuss how to meet the enemy!"

The bugle sounded and echoed throughout the entire camp.

The generals from various countries have arrived.

On the way here, they were still arguing, "Zhou Jun is here, how are we going to fight?"

"Of course we'll attack together!"

"Attack together? We don't have enough supplies, who goes first?"

"The Italians go first, you're closer."

"Why should we Italians go first? Aren't you Franks the best fighters?"

"The English are good archers, they should shoot first."

"Shoot arrows? You're blocking our way in front while we shoot from behind? Those arrows don't have eyes; what if they hit one of our own?"

They were arguing fiercely.

Charles II slammed his hand on the table. "Enough! Zhou Jun is right in front of us. How long do you intend to keep arguing?"

Everyone fell silent.

But even if they keep quiet, no one knows what they're really thinking.

……

The next day, the two armies met outside the city of Rome.

It was a vast plain, with the Tiber River flowing alongside it, and the outline of Rome visible in the distance.

The sun was shining brightly, and the sky was cloudless, yet a chilling atmosphere permeated the air.

Zhou Jun formed ranks.

Three thousand cannons were lined up in a row, their muzzles pointing towards the Allied forces, forming a dark, imposing mass.

The artillery battalion's positions were set up on two small hills, offering a commanding view and a wide field of vision.

The gunners stood beside the cannon, holding torches, waiting for orders.

The rocket arrays were lined up behind the artillery arrays, thousands of rockets arranged in neat rows, like a steel forest.

The rocket launchers crouched on the position, staring silently ahead.

The infantrymen formed a square formation, with rows of long spears standing like a forest, gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

The cavalry were on both flanks, their warhorses snorting and pawing the ground.

The officers rode their horses back and forth in front of the battle lines, relaying the final orders.

The allied forces also lined up in formation.

Five hundred thousand people, densely packed across the plain.

Looking down from above, it resembles a black ocean, boundless and endless.

The Frankish cavalry, numbering fifteen thousand, were on the left. Both men and horses were clad in chainmail and carried long spears, looking imposing and awe-inspiring.

The Roman Empire's infantry, numbering twenty thousand, stood in neat rows, clad in heavy armor and wielding greatswords and battle axes.

Italian crossbowmen, twelve thousand in number, stood on the right, holding crossbows and looking tense.

Eight thousand English longbowmen followed behind, carrying longbows and quivered with arrows.

The troops from Spain, Burgundy, Hungary, and Poland were scattered around the area, totaling over 100,000 men.

Charles II, mounted on his horse, stood at the rear of the formation, looking at the Zhou army opposite him.

The formation of Zhou's troops was too neat.

Column by column, row by row, as if measured with a ruler.

Those cannons, a dark mass, their muzzles like eyes, coldly stared at them.

A sense of foreboding suddenly welled up in Charles II's heart.

……

Pan Mei, mounted on his horse, stood at the front of the formation, looked at the opposing forces, and smiled, "Scattered like this, you dare to call yourselves an allied army?"

He raised his hand and waved it sharply, "Artillery Division, prepare!"

The command flag was waved.

The officers in the artillery battalion shouted orders, and the gunners quickly adjusted the angle of the cannons.

"put!"

Boom! Boom! Boom!
Three thousand cannons fired simultaneously, the sound deafening, even the ground beneath their feet trembled.

The shells whistled through the air, tracing arcs before crashing into the Allied lines.

The first volley of shells exploded within the Frankish cavalry formation.

The shell landed and exploded with a loud bang, shrapnel flying everywhere, and people and horses were thrown into disarray.

The warhorse neighed and fell, the knight screamed and fell from his horse, and blood stained the grass red.

The second volley of shells rained down, throwing the Holy Roman infantry into chaos.

The soldiers, clad in heavy armor, were hit by cannonballs and flew up like paper before crashing down.

Someone had their leg blown off and was screaming in agony while clutching their wound.

Some people were so shaken that they bled from all seven orifices and fell straight down.

The third volley of shells rained down, and blood flowed like a river within the Italian crossbowmen's ranks.

Before the soldiers with crossbows could even fire their arrows, they were smashed into mincemeat by cannonballs.

The crossbow was broken, the man was mangled, and the ground was covered in blood.

Round four, round five, round six...

The bombardment lasted for a full hour.

Three thousand cannons bombarded the area relentlessly, one after another.

Shells rained down, smashing the Allied forces' formation to pieces.

The Allied positions were littered with corpses and wounded soldiers.

Some cried out for their parents, some ran away with their heads in their hands, and some knelt on the ground begging for mercy.

The Frankish cavalry broke formation, the Holy Roman infantry's formation fell apart, and the Italian crossbowmen simply fled.

The English longbowmen stood at the very back, and seeing the carnage ahead, their legs went weak, and they could barely hold their bows.

Charles II was escorted by his personal guards as he ran backwards. He glanced back and his eyes turned red.

Those cannons were terrifying.

One shot killed more than a dozen people.

With a few thousand cannon shots, tens of thousands of people would be gone.

"Withdraw! Quickly withdraw!"

They can't evacuate, even if they want to.

At this moment, Gao Huaide led his cavalry and charged in from the left.

Ten thousand cavalrymen roared out, their hooves thundering, like a black torrent rushing towards the allied forces.

They brandished their swords and hacked at the fleeing soldiers.

Someone turned around to fight back, but was slashed down with a single blow.

Some people knelt down and begged for mercy, only to be trampled by horses' hooves.

Some people ran desperately, but couldn't outrun the horses, and were caught and killed.

Yang Ye also led his cavalry, attacking from the right flank.

Another 10,000 cavalry charged in from the other side, attacking from both sides and trapping the remnants of the allied forces in the middle.

The soldiers ran around like headless flies, but they couldn't escape.

All around him were Zhou's cavalry.

Murong Yanzhao led his infantry and pressed forward from the front.

Thirty thousand infantrymen formed a square formation and advanced step by step.

Long spears, like a forest, pierced through one enemy after another.

The sword and shield formed a wall, blocking counterattack after counterattack.

Yang Yanzhao led his navy to land at sea, blocking the allied forces' retreat.

Five thousand sailors rushed off the ships, set up a swarm of rockets, and unleashed a barrage of fire at the fleeing allied forces.

Dozens of rockets were launched simultaneously, covering the sky and exploding upon landing, causing the Allied forces to flee in panic.

Surrounded on all sides, there's no way to escape.

They fought for a whole day and night.

The allied forces suffered more than half their casualties, and the rest scattered and fled.

The Frankish cavalry were the fastest, but many of them were still caught up.

The Roman infantry could no longer run, and most of them chose to surrender.

The Italian crossbowmen ran the furthest, but they were still cornered.

The English longbowmen were slow and got surrounded, eventually surrendering as well.

Some of the troops from the small countries that came from various countries were annihilated, some surrendered, and some simply abandoned their weapons and ran away.

Charles II led his remaining troops back to the Franks, never daring to look back the entire way.

He looked back with a pained expression; only a few thousand people remained behind him.

Half a million people, just like that, gone.

This army of 500,000 was the elite of the European continent, and this battle completely deprived Europe of its ability to resist.

……

Constantinople.

Crown Prince Guo Wen stood atop the castle, a smile spreading across his face as he read the battle report sent by the Imperial City Guard.

The battle report was very thick, detailing the entire process of the battle.

From the initial artillery barrage to the cavalry charge, the infantry advance, and the naval encirclement, each and every event is described in detail.

"Pan Mei played well."

Guo Wu leaned closer and asked, "Brother, how many were killed or injured?"

Guo Wen glanced at the battle report: "The Allied forces suffered over 100,000 casualties, over 300,000 surrendered, and less than 100,000 escaped. Zhou's army suffered less than 10,000 casualties."

Guo Wu gasped, "This...this is too amazing."

Guo Wen nodded. "This is the strength of our Great Zhou."

Then he turned around and looked westward. "Europe is still a big country. But after this war, they should all be quiet."

Guo Wu asked, "Brother, when can we personally go to fight a battle?"

Guo Wen glanced at him and said, "What's the rush? There's plenty of time to fight."

He paused, then said, "Let's rest for a month first, then continue westward."

"Brother, why don't we press our advantage and pursue them?"

"Five hundred thousand? That's probably the limit for the European continent, so we should give the Imperial City Guard time to persuade them to surrender."

...(End of this chapter)