The Han culture is spreading strongly in Southeast Asia

Chapter 803 Iron and Blood Forged the Throne

As thick fog rises from the Ostrach River, the entire valley begins to be shrouded in mist.

The battlefield where the French and Austrian armies clashed was on the edge of the Black Forest in southern Germany, a place characterized by high mountains, dense forests, low temperatures, and frequent fog.

French commander Jean-Baptiste Jurdand positioned his army on a hill called Pfulendorf at the western end of the valley.

He concentrated his most elite cavalry, including 2,500 half-armored lancers used to break through the lines, and 3,000 lightly armored winged hussars, in the center of his army.

The French left wing, commanded by François Lefebvre, Duke of Danzig and one of Napoleon's eighteen marshals, consisted of about ten thousand men and was the vanguard controlling the village of Austerlach, the 'eye of the storm' in the center of the formation.

On the right wing, the approximately 5,000 men commanded by Pierre Barthélemy Ferrino were deployed as a defensive force.

They spread out very wide on the right flank to prevent Austrian troops from infiltrating the main force's central position through the right flank, while also seizing some small high points to pursue the enemy after the central and left flanks had won.

With everything prepared, as planned, General Lefebvre personally led the main force of 7,000 men on the left wing, cautiously and slowly advancing into the village of Austerach to seize positions in the formation and determine the next steps for attacking the Austrian army.

The French army had to be cautious because, before the Austrach Valley was confirmed as the battleground, French reconnaissance units had already engaged in small-scale battles with Austrian reconnaissance units for seven or eight days, with each side capturing dozens of men and learning some information about the other.

Just as they were about to reach the village of Austrach, head coach Jean-Baptiste Jurdand received some rather confusing news.

To prevent the Austrian army from outflanking him to his left front, Jules immediately ordered General Dominic Van Dam to lead 3,000 men to search to the left front for Austrian troops that might be outflanking him or already stationed there.

Thus, only about four thousand French troops, personally led by Lefebvre, ultimately entered the village of Austerlach.

The fog grew thicker and thicker, accompanied by a light drizzle, quickly obscuring the Pfulendorf Heights, which had previously offered good visibility, from the fog and mist.

However, this only made the French commander Jules Verne more at ease. It was only March, and there was no need to describe how cold and gloomy the southernmost part of the Black Forest was in March. Just thinking about what the three words "Black Forest" represented was enough to send shivers down one's spine.

At this point, the Austrian army was still at least 30 kilometers away at normal speed. By the time they arrived, it would be almost evening, and the French army would have already occupied Austrach village. The Austrian army would be unable to deploy and would be exposed to French artillery fire, making defeat inevitable.

Moreover, Juldur did not believe that the Austrian army was capable of marching rapidly in the cold rain of the Black Forest in March; they might be resting somewhere now and would not arrive until tomorrow.

But Jourdan had no idea that Archduke Charles of Austria had been waiting for this day for a long time, and had mobilized most of the Habsburg family’s available forces, a total of 110,000 men, not the 50,000 to 70,000 men that Jourdan had thought.

At the same time, Grand Duke Karl selected 30,000 elite soldiers from these 110,000 men and handed them all over to Mo Gongze, ordering them to carry out a forced march overnight in the rain for three days.

After reaching a point about ten kilometers from the Ostrach Valley, Mogongze once again selected elite soldiers from among his own troops, choosing a vanguard force of five thousand men.

The remaining 25,000 men were led by Reinstein, the 63-year-old Marquis of Guiyuan of Dayu and Earl of Spremon, Prince of Belgium, who was the commander of the Three Guards of Prince Lu.

Of the 5,000 most elite vanguard troops, 3,000 were the Imperial Guards of the Great Yu, the central guard of the Prince of Lu, and 2,000 were elite Austrian cavalry.

"Twenty years ago, all of you present here, or your fathers, followed my father and left our homeland to come to the continent of Europe."

We have come here by order of His Majesty Guangzhong, to establish a great nation where Chinese culture shines brightly in Europe.

However, none of us expected that this step would be so difficult, so much so that it took us twenty years to finally take that first step.

Five miles outside the village of Austrach, in the misty rain, Prince Mo Gongze of Lu, holding a cup of wine, addressed his most loyal and valiant soldiers.

"Twenty years, so many hardships and tribulations, many people died without ever seeing the dawn. While our compatriots were conquering new territories for the country in glory, we, the people of Lu, could only continue to suffer in silence. Only I know the bitterness of it all."

This cup of wine is a toast to the deceased predecessors who devoted themselves to the cause of Lu Fan, and also to ourselves, for from this day forward, we will truly embark on the path to building a powerful nation!

After saying this, Mo Gongze poured out half of the wine cup filled with rainwater, drank the other half, and the rest of the Lu soldiers did the same, even the Austrian officers.

Five thousand soldiers, especially three thousand from Lu Fan, looked at their prince with firm and fervent eyes.

The news that Mo Gongze was ultimately going to replace the Ottoman niche had not yet spread. What these soldiers believed was that if Lu Fan could establish merit in the war against France and demonstrate its strength, then the future of Lu Fan would either be the Greater Netherlands Kingdom or the Greater Rhineland Kingdom.

“Count, you are my senior, but today I am going to give you orders!” Mo Gongze said, looking at a white veteran in full armor on his left.

This man is Count Friedrich Joseph of Nauendorf, a famous and fierce Austrian general known for his command of cavalry. The two thousand elite Austrian cavalrymen currently serving under Mogonze are under his command.

“Give the order, Your Highness!” Count Nauendov did not hesitate at all. The reason why he was still eager to come to the front line with Mo Gongze at the age of fifty was because he was placing a bet.

In Count Nauendorf's view, what His Highness Prince Ferdinand was most likely to establish was actually a kingdom of the Rhine.

The Rhineland generally refers to the middle reaches of the Rhine River, east and south of the Ardennes Plateau and north of the Black Forest.

This area is currently still within the sphere of influence of the Holy Roman Empire, and contains approximately thirty ecclesiastical territories, principalities, and free cities.

But now it is clear that the Holy Roman Empire, with Austria as its main power, can no longer control these princes and cannot hold this region.

At the same time, most of these states have been almost completely bankrupted in terms of politics, economy and people's livelihood due to the wars over the years.

Many church territories, secular territories, and free cities have already ceased to exist, and monarchs are teetering on the brink of collapse under the impact of revolutionary ideas.

Their only way out was either to establish a kingdom or confederation and become a vassal of a powerful state, or to be controlled by the French revolutionary government, like the Swiss Republic of Helvetii.

This is how history has unfolded. Of course, after the fall of the Napoleonic dynasty, Prussia acquired this region at the Congress of Vienna in 1815. Therefore, most of the Rhineland has belonged to Germany since then, with major cities including Aachen and Cologne.

However, in this timeline, the sudden emergence of Mo Zirong and his son Mo Gongze brought about tremendous changes.

In the present Holy Roman Empire, or more precisely, within the Habsburg family, after the death of Maria Christina, the fourth daughter of Queen Theresa and sister-in-law of Prince Maurice, in 1798, Maurice became the eldest member of the Habsburg family.

Although Maria Christina's husband, Albert Casimir, the Governor-General of Hungary from the Wettin family, was still alive, he was Mo Zirong's elder brother.

But this guy was actually a son-in-law who lived with his wife's family, and a coward at that. He was afraid of dying on the battlefield. He held the title of Governor of Hungary, but no one listened to him. Almost all the Holy Roman nobles looked down on him.

Mo Zirong, on the other hand, was a prince of the semi-independent Prince of Belgium and the Grand Duke of Transylvania, and his governing ability was also quite good.

More importantly, Mo Zirong has a younger brother who is the Great Emperor of the East, and a son named Mo Gongze who is known as the most powerful prince in Europe.

This gave him considerable influence within the Habsburg family, despite being a son-in-law.

Needless to say, Mo Gongze not only owns everything his father possesses, but he will also marry Princess Mary of England this September, becoming the son-in-law of King George III.

That's incredible! The nephew of the Great Emperor of the East and the son-in-law of the King of the Strongest Kingdom in the West—two emperors supporting him! How could his fortune be small?
Therefore, the prevailing view within the Holy Roman Empire and the Habsburg family is to allow Mokomtje to seize the Rhineland lands that the Holy Roman Empire can no longer control, and to annex these ecclesiastical territories, secular territories, and free cities.

If possible, the Prince of Belgium might even join in, to establish a medium-sized power overlooking France from the Ardennes, monitoring France, and preventing such a threat to the nobility of all Europe from happening again.

This was a momentous event, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Europe, where noble titles had not been redistributed on a large scale for over a thousand years. Whether it was a lower-ranking noble with titles but no real benefits, or a commoner who felt he could get close to the nobility, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Mo Gongze readily accepted Count Nauendorf's offer of allegiance. What he needed now was manpower. Perhaps in the future, he would recapture Constantinople, and his sons could become kings in the Rhineland.

“Count, then your lancers and winged hussars will go ahead and circle around to the back of Austrach village to cut off the French army’s retreat route into the village.”

Therefore, I suggest that the lancers discard their cumbersome armor and fight using the same tactics as the Winged Hussars, delivering a memorable defeat to the French in the drizzle.

Count Nauendorf considered it for a moment. Although the rain was not heavy, it would definitely make the ground muddy. If the lancers were still wearing breastplates, they would not be able to run at all.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” said Count Nauendov, beginning to remove his breastplate. “The vanguard cavalry regiment will all fight as winged hussars.”

Seeing the cavalry leave, Mo Gongze said to Liu Guoqing, the commander of the Central Guard beside him, "I'll give you two thousand men. Take advantage of the thick fog and sneak in."

"Don't bring muskets, just use the Miao sword, the goose-feather sword, and the 'Long Live' revolving pistol, and let the French taste the thrill of hand-to-hand combat!"

The Lu family now has an army of about 25,000 men, of which 12,000 are in England, because when Mo Gongze left, he only took 3,000 men with him.

He felt embarrassed to bring too much; he was there for his mother's funeral, and didn't want it to look like he was fleeing England.

In addition, there were 8,000 men in Prussia, commanded by Lieutenant General Frederic. These men were also kept at a distance to avoid alerting the French army.

Finally, there are still two thousand people protecting Mo Zirong in Transylvania, so the only people available are these three thousand.

Liu Guoqing accepted the order and left. Mo Gongze opened his arms and, with the help of his personal adjutant, began to put on the same blue cotton inner lining, mandarin duck battle jacket, red battle skirt, and red cotton armor as the soldiers. Finally, he put on the vermilion helmet with the character "勇" (yong, meaning brave) on it.

With a clang, Mo Gongze finally pulled out his 1.56-meter-long Miao sword and took it into his hand. He then checked the loading and firing pin of the Wansui Revolver.

"Everyone, whether staff officers or guards, must be prepared for hand-to-hand combat. We must take Austrach village before the rain and fog stop!"

. . . .

In the thick fog, François Lefebvre, who was deploying artillery positions in the village, vaguely heard some noises that didn't seem to belong to his troops.

However, the white fog in the valley was so fine and dense that it was impossible to distinguish between people and animals from two or three meters away, making it impossible to observe. He could only send out a troop to scout outside the village.

Upon receiving the order, a small squad of French soldiers slowly made their way out of the village. They wore the classic French navy blue jackets and beige trousers, and bicornered caps that resembled triangles from the front. The soldiers had yellow collars and dark blue cuffs, indicating that they were not line infantry, but elite light infantry.

Light infantry in most countries have now developed to use rifled guns and Minié bullets, but because the ignition method is still flintlock, although it is a great improvement over matchlock, its effectiveness is still reduced in rainy weather.

So these light infantrymen simply didn't reload; they carried their rifles on their backs, held their bayonets in their hands, and scouted along the various paths, step by step.

The French army's fighting capacity has improved significantly since the early days of the French Revolution, and it has weathered the chaos caused by the sudden and large-scale disappearance of aristocratic officers. However, the current Directory is still unable to fully mobilize the fighting capacity of its soldiers.

Because the upper echelons of the Directory were either former writers and lawyers who had become politicians, or representatives of the wealthy merchant class.

They didn't understand the thoughts of the soldiers below, nor did they bother to comprehend them, just like in Chinese history, soldiers with large headscarves and ordinary clothes could never urinate in the same pot.

If the revolutionary government had not initially carried out the policy of confiscating land from landlords and distributing it to peasants, and had not superficially promoted human rights and liberation, the French army would not even have its current fighting capacity.

"What kind of idiot would send us to fight the Austrians in the damp, cold Black Forest at this time? Do they even know how to farm?" someone said irritably, slashing wildly with his bayonet while complaining.

“Yes, I wonder if Mary can manage all by herself at home, especially with the children who are still so young.” A soldier said, a hint of green appearing on his head.

“Last year, after René from next door went to war, no one helped cultivate his land. His wife had to sleep with men to get help. She would sleep with them for one night and they would help cultivate the land for one day.”

Last year, this guy was unethical and slept with René's wife for half a month, feeling quite smug about it. But now, he has a premonition about the situation at home, because he is the only adult able-bodied person in his family.

In France, except for a very few areas where spring planting begins in early May, the rest of the country's spring planting is concentrated between mid-March and late April. Conscripting troops for war during this period does indeed greatly affect spring planting.

Of course, many soldiers in the French army were urban citizens and officer cadets, but a considerable number of them were from middle peasant backgrounds. At least 40% were recruited from the countryside, especially among light infantry and other elite troops, where the proportion was particularly high.

When the conversation turned to spring planting and the situation at home, everyone's spirits were low. The squad leader was about to say something to encourage the soldiers when he suddenly heard a series of light footsteps.

"Fix bayonets, someone's coming!" As a veteran of five or six years of combat, the squad leader immediately became alert. He shouted loudly, and his hand quickly took the flintlock pistol from behind his back.

But it was too late. Suddenly, a group of red figures appeared in the thick white fog. They wore red helmets, red half-length battle robes and skirts, revealing gray hems and black leather boots.

With a fierce gust of wind, a Miao sword pierced through the white mist. It was Di Feihu from Dingzhou, Beizhili. As his name suggested, he leaped like a flying tiger, and his sword flashed like a bolt of lightning.

With a thud, the French platoon leader's scream was cut in two by a Miao sword.

Di Feihu was born in Dingzhou, which is south of the famous Zhengding Prefecture. This place has been known for producing fierce people since ancient times. In history, Di Feihu was the top martial arts scholar in the imperial examination of the sixtieth year of Qianlong's reign, and his combat power was quite formidable.

After instantly killing one man, Di Feihu did not stop. With a few leaps, he arrived at the next French soldier.

The French soldier desperately brandished his dagger, reaching for the bomb at his waist. Di Feihu roared like a thunderclap, startling the French soldier so much that his dagger-wielding hand was instantly severed along with his arm.

Amidst the spurt of blood, Di Feihu swiftly severed the French soldier's throat with a flick of his wrist. Then, with a shout, he leaped forward to the right once more.

A bayonet whistled as it came hurtling towards them. It turned out that the French soldier had already fixed his bayonet, but Di Feihu dodged it with a ghostly sidestep.

Miao swordsmanship can be opened and closed, and can be large or small. It is best at using the body in conjunction with swordsmanship. Therefore, after turning to the side, Di Feihu settled his body into a horse stance and slashed the blade from left to right.

In an instant, the French soldier's blue jacket burst open, a blood groove suddenly appeared, and his intestines gushed out.

This guy no longer has to worry about his wife Mary cheating on him, and he can no longer cheat on his neighbor René, which is a good thing.

"Charge! Charge! Charge!" Taking advantage of the light rain, Di Feihu wiped the blood and grime off his Miao sword with a rag and shouted loudly to the soldiers behind him:
"Charge straight in! Don't give them time to reload! Throw the bombs inside, then go straight in and hack these white bastards to death!"

The battle reached its peak in an instant. Thousands of elite Lu Fan Zhongwei soldiers, their red armor gleaming, stormed into this stronghold, which originally had three or four hundred residents and was considered a small town in Europe, from more than a dozen directions under the cover of thick fog.

Although Lefebvre was also a fierce general, he rarely encountered this kind of Eastern-style attack, where there was no sudden attack that started with a terrifying melee with cold weapons.

In fact, in human warfare, face-to-face confrontations with cold weapons are always the greatest test for an army.

Compared to the probabilistic death of muskets where you can't see the enemy and are killed without a chance to kill them, cold weapon warfare, where you can see the enemy, smell their scent, and know when you will be killed, is extremely terrifying.

Moreover, influenced by their commander Jurdand, these French soldiers all thought the battle would take place in the afternoon or even the next day. Most of them were not prepared for the battle, and even gunpowder and lead bullets had not been distributed to the companies. When they were suddenly attacked, they immediately became disheveled.

"It's the Seres, it's the Belgian army!" Lefebvre was extremely familiar with the French's old adversaries, the Great Yu Guard disguised as the Belgian army, but he had no good options at the moment and could only use lives to buy time.

Under Lefebvre's orders, a large number of French soldiers were confined to their posts and not allowed to retreat, while Lefebvre's personal guards were rapidly reloading.

Lefebvre understood that the Seres' attack was very sharp, but if he could reload eight hundred to a thousand men, he could hold the high ground of the village. After all, the damage and efficiency of cold weapons and firearms were not comparable.

Moreover, as long as he holds the position, Jules Adam, the commander on Pfulendorf Heights, will send reinforcements, and the French will still have the advantage.

Mo Gongze was naturally aware of this, and he moved the command post to the front line. Liu Guoqing, the commander of the Central Guard, had already taken his Miao sword to the front line.

In the tense atmosphere, Mo Gongze kept glancing at his pocket watch. If he couldn't drive the French troops out of the village in another half hour, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

The fierce fighting took place at every corner and on every high ground inside and outside the village. The two sides were roughly equal in strength, and blue and red soldiers could be seen everywhere, fighting like wild beasts in the drizzle and mud.

A dozen or so French soldiers were gathered in a room. They were quickly reloading their weapons and keeping a watchful eye on the door. The Seres soldiers were wearing iron armor and carrying large swords that were more than a meter long. They couldn't win in hand-to-hand combat and had to use guns.

Suddenly, a red figure flashed in through the doorway, and the extremely tense French soldiers opened fire simultaneously.

A cloud of smoke billowed around, but surprisingly, no screams were heard.

The French soldiers were puzzled when another red figure appeared, this time even less visible because the room was filled with the smoke of gunpowder.

Clap clap clap!

In the midst of extreme tension, those who hadn't fired yet opened fire as well, and everyone simultaneously entered the loading state. They were so nervous that they completely lost control of the alternation of firing.

Just then, a burly man leaped into the room. It turned out that what had been thrown in earlier was his military uniform, not a person.

Clap clap clap!

This time it wasn't the French who opened fire, but the burly man's revolver six-shot gun, which emptied its magazine in just over ten seconds.

After knocking down a French soldier who was about to throw a grenade, Dang Shouzheng, a native of Qin'an County, Tianshui, Gansu, rushed forward and unleashed a flurry of blows.

He was also a tough guy, a survivor of the chaos in Shaanxi and Gansu, a fierce man who had experienced blood and fire. Historically, he and Di Feihu were both military scholars who passed the imperial examination in the same year.

Four French soldiers charged in with bayonets, but he slashed them several times, knocking them off balance. He then killed them one by one, and his comrades rushed in and killed the remaining French soldiers inside.

As time went on, the Lu Fan Central Guard, composed of the elite of the Dayu elites, rapidly expanded its advantage.

These French soldiers were not Napoleon's old guards in history; they were just ordinary soldiers. Although Lefebvre hoped they could hold on, as the damage increased, the fear was amplified.

Soon, scenes of collapsing French troops abandoning their weapons and fleeing for their lives appeared everywhere. Lefebvre estimated that the two thousand men outside could hold out for at least an hour to buy him time, but in reality, they only lasted for thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes later, the French command in Austrach was in chaos. Commander Lefebvre could only control less than a thousand men around him; the rest were already fleeing in all directions.

The red figures launched a fierce attack on the highest point of the village, where Lefebvre was located, stretching endlessly back and forth.

They often hid behind defeated French soldiers and infiltrated the enemy ranks, sometimes even attacking while wearing French uniforms.

Lefebvre was extremely anxious. He personally rushed to the front line and shouted orders.

This historical figure, who was Napoleon's 18th Marshal, was still a bit inexperienced at this point. He did not anticipate the approaching danger, or rather, he did anticipate it but had no choice but to stabilize the front line.

Amidst the roar, Di Feihu rushed forward and saw the French commander. Without hesitation, he picked up a rifle, took a running start, and threw it at him.

However, even though he veered slightly off course, it seemed like he had veered just right.

Lefebvre was waving his hands in command when the rifle flew past him by a hair's breadth, missing his torso but striking his hand as if he had caught it.

"Ouch!" A sharp pain shot through his left hand, and Lefebvre screamed as the bayonet of the rifle flying towards him severed three of his fingers.

"Damn it, damn it!" The excruciating pain did not cause this historically formidable man to faint. Instead, after cursing twice, he put his left hand behind his back to avoid being discovered by the soldiers.

However, his trusted adjutant, fearing that Lefebvre would bleed too much, kept urging him to leave.

Looking at everything before him—the crumbling battle lines, the soldiers putting up a desperate resistance—and then at his commander, Juldin, still shrouded in thick fog with no sign of reinforcements, Lefebvre knew he couldn't hold out any longer unless he was willing to die there.

"Let's retreat, we have to retreat, this battle can't be fought!" In the end, this French major general of humble origin had to make the painful decision that he could only withdraw his troops.

"Have the soldiers spread out as much as possible, and do not retreat along the river. Instead, retreat back up the hillside. I'm afraid that Prince Ferdinand of Belgium has already prepared his cavalry to intercept us."

(End of this chapter)