Swift Collapse

Early in the morning, dark clouds hung over Buzău, a vital town in northern Wallachia.

From a distance, a layer of iron-grey curtain suddenly appeared in the desolate and barren hilly area.

Upon closer inspection, people realized it was a rapidly moving cavalry unit.

As they swept over the Buzău hills like clouds, the morning sun was melting the distant horizon into a golden-red.

Beside the muddy road, the wooden wings of windmills creaked and turned in the cold wind.

In the harvested wheat fields, scattered piles of straw, washed apart by the rain, lay about, and occasionally, crows flapped past dilapidated, simple houses.

People hid inside their homes, watching the army with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

The noisy hoofbeats reminded them of Ottoman raiders, intensifying their fear.

Stefan III's black cloak was already covered in travel dust.

He had no interest in admiring Buzău's beautiful natural scenery, nor did he linger in any villages or towns.

Not long ago, Stefan, who had just used a clever stratagem to annihilate the Tatar raiders, had not yet returned to Suceava to rest when he received a letter seeking aid from Wallachia.

He immediately ordered the temporarily conscripted militiamen and nomadic cavalry to disband on the spot.

Then, Stefan, with over three thousand of his personal guards, traveled lightly and swiftly from Moldavia to Wallachia.

It took the Moldavian army only half a month to travel from Bessarabia to Buzău.

Now, Stefan only wanted to rush to Târgoviște to rescue his cousin.

This was also to repay Vlad's kindness in helping him return to his country and reclaim the title of Prince years ago.

In the distance, the city of Buzău, nestled at the foot of Buzău Mountain, appeared before Stefan's eyes.

This city was located in the hilly area on the left bank of the Buzău River, using the terrain to build sturdy city walls and a castle.

This was the transportation hub and regional defense center of northern Wallachia.

A flicker of imperceptible desire flashed in Stefan's eyes, but he quickly extinguished the thought.

He reined in his horse, and the warhorse let out a loud neigh.

Under an oak tree not far away, a man dressed as a nobleman stood with a bay horse, followed by two trembling servants.

Several scouts had already surrounded him, preventing him from escaping or making any unruly moves.

However, the man was not flustered at all, as if he was specifically waiting for Stefan here.

"Are you the representative of Buzău?"

Stefan asked.

"No, brave Prince Stefan," the man pulled out a court token with a black eagle emblem from his Arms, and respectfully said, "I am Mihai Vodă, sent by Prince Vlad, specifically here to welcome you and your great army, and to serve as your guide."

Stefan nodded slightly, not doubting the man's identity.

The letter of appeal Vlad sent to Moldavia had indicated the marching route Stefan should take when leading his army into Wallachia.

Now seeing the guide appointed by Vlad, Stefan finally felt relieved.

He had spent his youth in Wallachia and was quite familiar with the area, so he didn't really need a guide.

However, since the Moldavian army was, after all, an outsider, having a Wallachian to help could save a lot of trouble.

"How are Prince Vlad and the situation in Târgoviște?"

Stefan calculated in his mind: it was only a week's journey from Buzău to Târgoviște.

If he moved faster, he could arrive within five days.

Vodă pondered for a moment and replied, "The rebels arrived in Târgoviște a few days ago and have besieged the city.

However, there are thousands of defenders in the city, most of whom guard the city, and some protect the Prince's castle.

The city defenses are very strong, and I am confident that the rebels cannot take the city by force.

As for a siege, it might take several months or even longer."

"Is that so?" Stefan quickly considered strategies in his mind, "If I'm not mistaken, the rebels probably don't know that I've already led my army here."

"Yes, Prince Stefan, to be honest, even I didn't expect you to arrive so quickly," Vodă let out a long breath, saying in a low voice, "It's only been a little over a month since those despicable rebels attacked Prince Vlad."

Stefan asked with some concern, "Your Prince's health…."

"Please rest assured, Prince Vlad is unharmed."

"That's good," Stefan turned his gaze to the distant city of Buzău, "I'll trouble you to communicate with the residents of the city. My troops need to resupply here, rest for a while, and then march towards Târgoviște."

Vodă's expression changed slightly upon hearing this, and he cautiously said, "Prince Stefan, isn't this too fast?

Prince Vlad's idea is that you should coordinate with him from inside and outside to defeat the enemy in one fell swoop when the rebels have been besieged for a long time and their morale is low.

Before that, you can first lead your reinforcements to the lightly defended Giurgiu to threaten the rebels' flank and wait for the opportune moment."

Stefan smiled faintly upon hearing this, understanding in his heart.

It seems his cousin truly wasn't confident in his strength, to actually want to adopt such a conservative strategy.

He understood Vlad; when it came to military strategy, Stefan could call himself bold, but Vlad was several times bolder than him.

For such a bold Vlad to want to play a standoff with the rebels made Stefan feel underestimated.

"No need for such trouble," Stefan turned to Vodă, who was about to persuade him again, and said with firm eyes, "I will crush those rebels, as long as you can persuade the people of Buzău to let my warriors enter the city and get a good night's sleep."

"This…"

Vodă's face was bitter; even though Stefan looked full of confidence now, if the reinforcements were defeated, Prince Vlad would hold him, the messenger, responsible.

I don't want to be impaled and left outside Giurgiu to become jerky… Vodă wanted to cry but had no tears.

However, seeing Stefan's demeanor, he probably wouldn't change his decision.

Vodă could only reluctantly nod: "All right, since you insist."

He silently prayed in his heart, hoping that this young Prince Stefan was truly as brave and powerful as the legends said.

Soon, Stefan led his army into Buzău and rested well within the city.

Then, to Vodă's astonished gaze, Stefan ordered the entire army to carry five days' worth of dried rations, abandon all unnecessary burdens, and rush towards Târgoviște at the fastest possible speed.

Four days later, at dawn, the rebel siege camp outside Târgoviște was quiet.

Neither Dan nor his allies, nor the defenders within the city, realized that a cavalry unit as swift as the wind had already forded a tributary of the Danube River at a shallow crossing not far away.

Stefan led his army upstream at an extremely fast pace.

Before the sun rose, the Moldavian army, which had been marching for half the night, launched a surprise attack on the rebel camp with almost no rest.

Stefan divided his troops into six groups, launching surprise attacks on the rebel camp from all directions in batches.

Piercing horn calls and shouts echoed over the camp.

However, the iron hooves of the Moldavians easily trampled through the rebel camp, which lacked defensive fortifications.

For a time, the rebel camp was in chaos, with shouts of killing rising everywhere.

Some tents were set on fire, and some sleepy soldiers who came out to check the situation were cut down by curved sabers coming at them.

Stefan personally led the Moldavia's only unit of heavily armored cavalry directly into the center of the camp.

Due to the dim light, the rebels were unable to organize any effective resistance.

They had no idea where these enemies came from.

When Dan crawled out of his tent, finally managed to mount his warhorse, and began to try and rally the remaining troops, he saw a familiar back.

"Damn it! Giraks, where are you going?"

Dan shouted loudly, but received only a cold glance from the Hungarian.

The battle proceeded unusually swiftly, and many rebellious nobles, seeing the unfavorable situation, directly led their men and scattered.

Not to mention the serfs, who constituted the vast majority of the rebel army; they quickly lost the will to fight and dispersed like birds and beasts.

By the time Dan, who had been immersed in his dream of becoming Prince, sobered up, he was already surrounded by Stefan's forces.

In despair, this rebel leader wanted to commit suicide but lacked the courage, so he meekly dismounted and submitted to capture.

The cruelest torture in this world awaited him.

But that had nothing to do with Stefan; his mission was complete.