"Let's go!" shouted Ludwig I.

In the camp of tens of thousands, in the darkness, in the fire, they fought so hard that even Ludwig I, or the wizards around them, didn't know if they would survive, it was so chaotic that everyone bit their teeth to the point of breaking, they brandished their swords, shouted wildly, gathered as much as they could— In this case, if you are alone, you will die, but the Ottomans are also constantly attacking them, like a river hitting a reef, some people fall off their horses, some people die, some people go missing.

The sorcerers followed Ludwig I closely, and they had a sharp weapon, which was refined oil and powder, and sometimes they would light the fuse and shake the keg so that it would fly far in the air before it landed, and the babbling Ottomans would go to the place where the fire started, and sometimes they would be used against their enemies, and no one would not be afraid of this kind of fire that seemed to be drawn directly from hell— It could not be extinguished, and the Ottomans had already tasted the bitterness of this flame in siege warfare, and even the bravest warriors could not help but avoid it.

Their previous encounter with Mutfirica indicates that they were not far from the center of the camp, and Ludwig I was not so surprised when he heard the sound of the cauldron pounding - he was far away from the commander of the Ottoman Turks, Grand Vizier Ahmet, separated by a Janissary legion, each soldier of which wore a large white hat - they rarely went directly into battle, only appearing at the decisive moment of the battle to deliver the last blow to the stubborn enemy. They were recharged and energetic without sieges, and they never had night blindness because they had plenty of food, and the Sultan and the Grand Vizier had always given them the best equipment and equipment, carrying the latest muskets in their hands, and in the same shooting posture that Louis XIV had done in the Flemish Wars, they were mostly infantry, but they were more difficult than a cavalry army.

Hussars rushed towards them, guns rang out, horses and knights fell, between the tents and the dust, the occasional flash of flame illuminated Ludwig I's face, he gave orders in Polish, the hussars rumbled with hooves, repeatedly paraded, looking for gaps in the formation, they were also muskets in hand, and engaged the soldiers of the Janissaries sporadically, but it was clear that the Janissaries lived up to their name, they had a will of steel, and their beards would not tremble easily even if their companions died next to them.

With louder and louder shouts around them, the soldiers of the Janissaries even threw torches from their formations, revealing the enemy facing them, and the surrounding Sipad cavalry gave a familiar cry of the Ottomans, they were annihilating those enemies who were completely respectable in terms of courage, and the Grand Vizier made a gesture of surrender, and a retinue of yellow clothes was galloping towards them - he was Ahmet's messenger.

Ludwig I did not move, he took a longbow from behind him, mounted an arrow, and killed the yellow-clothed retinue with a single arrow.

Before Ahmet could change color, he suddenly heard a loud shout, and all the hussars and dragoons standing behind Ludwig I were shouting with pride, urging their horses, apparently intent on a heroic attack. 、

Ludwig I listened to the ridiculous "Conwarv, Conwal, Conwal!!" and rushed forward without fear, and behind him was a torrent of steel, feathers, and furs, and the pans of the Janissaries rang out rapidly, urging and encouraging, but at this moment the kegs that had destroyed the Cossack wagons appeared again, only the last bit of gunpowder, and in the flash of fire, the Ottomans thought that they could never break through the line of defense cracked a hideous bloody hole.

"Conwall!" cried Ludwig I hoarsely, and the Grand Vizier's tent stood on a low hill, hundreds of feet away from him, and how close and far away the soldiers of the Janissaries pounced on him in madness, even at the cost of blocking the horses' hooves with their own bodies, but Ludwig I's eyes were fixed on the man in his robes.

I didn't even notice that the wizards around me were decreasing.

"Devil!" a group of priests stopped the wizards, and the wizards of France smiled sarcastically: "Who?

To the surprise of the Ottomans, they were unable to fight these demons - these wizards were carefully selected by Louis XIV, and the Sultan of Ottoman Turkey decided to execute all the male wizards in the first place, leaving the female wizards to reproduce for him children with extraordinary abilities, and naturally they were destined not to trust them - they had no direct access to the documents and files left by the wizards, and of course they could not learn any powerful magic, and the spells they now used were almost all slowly explored according to the scriptures...... Of course, for them, this was magic, but how could the Sultan allow them to master magic that was too dangerous?

"This is blasphemy!" cried Mozhangau, for though the Grand Imam had said before that the heretics had made a deal with the devil, but only now he had to believe that a mortal had really introduced into the war of the world an inhuman power that all kings had kept secret, and that he was not afraid?

"Say whatever you want," said one of the wizards, who grabbed a scimitar from the side and slashed Mozsan's neck.

Mossan tried to grasp the wounds, as a descendant of a sorcerer, he had a tenacious vitality, but the blood took away his magic, and his gods did not come to him or kill his enemies with thunder - how pathetic he was as an Ottoman priest, because he was not as religious as the other priests, and did not fully believe that countless virgins would wait for him in heaven, and he had the same ambition for power as the Grand Vizier Ahmed, which cost his brother his life.

Someone had stepped on him, but he didn't feel any more pain, his eyes were rapidly dimming, and no one knew if he regretted it, such a small man had almost ruined the Grand Imam's trust in Ahmed, but now he couldn't do anything.

One hundred feet.

It was an unimaginable last distance between Ludwig I and the Grand Vizier Ahmet, but between him and Ahmed there were the soldiers of the Janissaries Legion, which was as solid as a wall, and they were the strongest and fearless of all the soldiers, and Ludwig had only a few dozen men left with him.

Ludwig I pulled out the musket from his chest - from a gift from Louis XIV, he did not ignite the gunpowder, he just pressed the trigger, and a dazzling light flashed from the muzzle - and again, again, five times in a row!

For the first time on this battlefield, not round, but conical bullets whizzed out of the barrel, and at a distance of a hundred feet Ludwig I almost guaranteed a hit with every shot.

Will he succeed?

Unbeknownst to him, thunderbolts shining brighter than gunfire suddenly burst out of the Grand Imam's hands, and they leaped into the air, and then burrowed into the ground, weaving in front of the Grand Vizier Ahmed into a thin white net bright enough to be seen on the entire battlefield, and the bullets struck it, countless blue arcs of light jumped wildly like fish in a net, the Great Imam's beard gave off a scorched smell, and the hair of everyone around him, the feathers on his hat, and the fur on his body stood up.

"This is King Ludwig I of Poland!" said Ahmed, "keep him here!" Grand Imam, take him prisoner!"

The Grand Imam just glanced at him indifferently, "I've made enough concessions. He said that the current was gone, and he took a step back. The Grand Imam understood that he had summoned the Thunderbolt because he could not watch Ahmet be killed by a heretic, but he would not intervene in mortal wars unless the other party was a devil or one of their retinues.

Ahmet had to turn his gaze to the nearest yellow-clad retinue, but before he could give the order, there was a louder noise and fire, and several teams galloped from all over the camp to join Ludwig I, like a stream gathering into a great river, and the Ottomans, who had been trying to surround them, were suddenly attacked in other places no less than before, and the camp was once again in confusion, the soldiers trampled each other, and the tents were dragged down and burned.

Ludwig I, on the other hand, had already found the nearest gap under the call of reinforcements, and led his knights all the way out.

Ludwig I finally settled down when he saw the familiar banner of the golden lily on a blue background, and his son Count Henry had already returned to him when he was in a stalemate with the Ottomans, but he was scarred and covered with soot, and the twelve thousand cavalry he had brought out were finally less than half of them gathered around him, and Ludwig I was tired and speechless.

Count Henry hurriedly helped his father and sent him to the carriage, the battle was nominally to kill the Grand Vizier Ahmet, but even Leopold I, who proposed this goal, did not think that it could really be a reality - to kill their commander in a large camp of hundreds of thousands of people, unless the archangel Gabriel threw a thunderbolt to destroy the Ottoman camp as he destroyed Sodom, and it could even be said that Ludwig I was able to rush in front of Ahmet, which was enough to surprise them.

No one could blame the Polish king unless one thought he too could go to the Grand Vizier Ahmet.

Half of the 12,000 men were left, and Ludwig I had to thank Louis XIV, who gave him more than just canned peaches, who did his job well and exceeded expectations, and then the rest of the people were distressed.

The pressure may not have been as difficult to cope as they thought, as Camnico was now a mighty city, Venetian merchants were driven by money and were constantly sending Italian volcanic ash (the main material of cement) to Slovenia, while merchants from all over France, passing through Switzerland, were sending a steady stream of supplies that would keep them going until winter. On the other hand, the sheer size of the Ottoman armies would not allow them to engage in any protracted warfare unless they plundered the periphery, which they had once in all but those cities that were willing to obey orders and clear the wilderness.

Wait, if Ahmet wants to, he can still turn to Upper Hungary, the problem is, Upper Hungary belongs to the Prince of Transylvania, which is their most advantageous arm and springboard.

————

The Ottomans killed by Ludwig I's hussars and dragoons were probably less than a tenth of the soldiers who panicked in the night and flames, trampled each other, fought each other, fled, and died or disappeared for various inexplicable reasons.

Grand Vizier Ahmet even had the urge to execute one or two of the commanders, but he knew that it would not help, not to mention that it was not their fault, all three legions had fulfilled their duties, and the Azaps, Tatars or Cossacks on the periphery, you could not expect them to have a strong will, a strong body and a cool head, and the Grand Vizier was not stingy when using them, wasn't it because they had little value at all?

And not only did the Christians have muskets and cannons ten times better than they did, but they also had so many explosives and oil – Ahmad did have an army of 250,000 men, but they were still flesh and blood, and they would still be afraid, and they would want to run away because of the pain...... Ahmet didn't know how many of these gunpowder, and oil, and the kind of terrible white phosphorus bombs the Christians had encountered in siege warfare—he had seen the first to flee and ordered them to be killed, not only because of their cowardice, but also because their wounds looked so terrible, so deep that they could touch their internal organs or bones...... Their **** and miserable images will directly affect other people.

He drew the scimitar, his face cloudy, paused, he thrust it back again, no, it was not the time, he said to himself, he still had as many soldiers as a grain of wheat, and he still had a chance to win.

But another voice was saying, really, he had lost 30,000 men before he even set foot in Austria, and how many lives and how much time he would have to waste here? Mohammed IV's letters had already expressed his dissatisfaction with him, and his political enemies were like wolfdogs looking for an opportunity to speak.

"Master," his attendant whispered outside the tent, "the Grand Imam wants to see you." ”

(Tomorrow morning, this chapter will be updated with 1,000 words!)