Breaking the City in a Day

"Withdraw the shields!"

Upon receiving the order, the temporarily appointed artillery commander immediately began to direct his gunners to move away the wooden shields used to protect the cannons.

These 'wooden shields' were essentially large, man-high wooden boards that, when angled, could block all projectile attacks from the city walls.

The enemy on the city walls also had some cannons, which still posed a threat to them.

However, most of those cannons were long-barreled light cannons, not much different from oversized matchlocks, and the real threat came from the larger-caliber 'cluster cannons'.

Many veteran gunners recognized the distinctive sound of those short-barreled cannons upon hearing the gunfire from the city walls.

The cluster cannon was an Ovenis cannon, with a short barrel and a large muzzle, powerful but with insufficient range.

This was the type of cannon the Emperor initially equipped the various Austro-Hungarian Army with.

However, as the arsenal continuously improved its cannon manufacturing process, the cluster cannon was quickly phased out.

They were now equipped with bronze cannons that had undergone multiple improvements, with significantly increased range, accuracy, and power compared to the cluster cannon.

Forty cannons were concentrated to bombard Timisoara's sturdy city walls.

The artillery guards collectively removed their shields, revealing the dark muzzles, which filled the defenders on the city walls with terror.

Before they even opened fire here, a thunderous roar came from the other side—the furious roar of the Hungarian heavy artillery responsible for bombarding the other section of the city wall.

"Fire!"

Here, the Austro-Hungarian Army also refused to be outdone; their cannons would not lose to the Hungarian!

The gunners lit the fuses, and the already loaded cannons instantly spat out scorching fire snakes, launching cast-iron cannonballs weighing several kilograms.

The first cannonball whistled as it flew towards Timisoara's city walls.

Immediately after, one cannon after another fired continuously, and cannonballs rained down on the city walls, causing bricks and stones to fly and smoke and dust to fill the air.

Although the defenders were well-prepared, hiding behind the walls, they still suffered significant losses.

Stones were shattered, and some soldiers were hit by flying debris, falling to the ground on the spot, their blood staining the city walls beneath their feet.

More cannonballs directly struck the reinforced walls, leaving behind marks of varying depths.

Bem reminded his subordinates not to run around and to take cover from the artillery fire, while keeping his eyes fixed on the wooden wall behind the Austro-Hungarian Army artillery.

That was the barricade built by the besieging army; the attacking troops were hiding behind that wall, ready to launch an assault on the city walls at any moment.

However, the attacking troops did not emerge from behind the barricade, instead allowing the artillery to continue bombarding the city walls.

In the other two directions, the armies led by Paul and Szécsényi also did not launch an attack; they were waiting for the right moment to coordinate with the main attacking force.

The bombardment continued, seemingly without end.

The defenders on the city walls attempted to retaliate, but their sporadic artillery fire and shooting had little effect.

Meanwhile, to the south of Timisoara, after launching numerous stone projectiles and incendiary bombs with trebuchets, the Serbia immediately began a direct assault.

As expected, their attack was quickly repelled, leaving behind a field of bodies.

However, the defenders' defensive supplies were dwindling, and their casualties were gradually increasing.

It wasn't until several hours later that the bombardment finally ceased, with the Hungarian heavy artillery achieving results first.

Several breaches appeared in Timisoara's city walls, with bricks and stones scattered everywhere, and the rammed earth filling them had collapsed, forming a small earthen slope.

Werner, the commander of the Saxon Army, who was in charge of the main assault, constantly monitored the situation on the city walls, and seeing that the time was right, he immediately ordered a halt to the bombardment.

The Saxon Army soldiers, carrying scaling ladders, surged towards Timisoara's city walls like a tide.

They held their shields high and charged towards the enemy with shouts.

Bem immediately emerged from his hiding place, loudly encouraging the defenders to counterattack.

He moved with extreme speed along the city walls, relaying his orders to everyone on the wall.

The defenders leaned out, firing arrows and muskets at the enemy.

Arrows whistled as they flew towards the attacking soldiers, and the smoke from muskets billowed over the city walls.

Many soldiers were pierced by arrows or bullets on their way to the charge, screaming as they fell, their blood gushing out.

However, their numbers were immense, with wave after wave seemingly endless.

The soldiers at the forefront threw bundles of firewood or other debris they carried into the moat.

When some soldiers carrying firewood fell, the soldiers behind them would pick up the firewood and continue their charge.

Arrows and bullets rained down like locusts on the attacking army, and the cannons on the city walls began to roar again.

Cannonballs exploded in the crowds, taking many soldiers' lives with each blast.

However, this still could not prevent the moat from being gradually filled, forming some passable "floating bridges."

Bem had anticipated this and immediately ordered men to throw tar-soaked charcoal mixed with other flammable materials onto these "floating bridges," attempting to block the Austro-Hungarian Army's water passage with fire.

However, the continuous covering fire from musketeers and crossbowmen below the city walls disrupted their plan.

Although some areas were indeed blocked by flames, it caused almost no hindrance to the attacking forces.

When the soldiers finally approached the city walls, the defenders threw ready-made stones, boiling oil, rolling logs, and anything else that could cause damage at them.

Stones rained down, and crossbowmen and musketeers no longer fired aimlessly but began to precisely pick off those at the forefront.

Stones and arrows struck the thick shields with dull thuds.

The moment hot oil mixed with some indescribable substances was poured down, Bem personally threw a torch.

A large fire instantly erupted below the city walls, causing the Austro-Hungarian Army soldiers engulfed in it to scream in agony.

They struggled painfully in the fire, scattering in all directions, and many chose to jump into the filthy, putrid moat.

Some were lucky enough to survive, while others never emerged.

However, such tenacious resistance failed to break the Austro-Hungarian Army's will.

They did not retreat, continuing their charge despite casualties, and finally erected scaling ladders against Timisoara's city walls.

At the breach formed by the collapsed city wall, countless defenders and attacking troops wrestled with each other.

They wielded their weapons, striving to drive the enemy out of this breach.

The elite warriors from Saxony wielded their longswords and ultimately won this struggle—they secured the breach.

More and more soldiers climbed onto the city walls from here, engaging in fierce hand-to-hand combat with the continuously arriving defenders.

Werner, observing the battle from the siege works not far away, clenched his fists nervously.

He watched soldiers climbing the city walls like ants constantly fall from the air, shattering on the ground, his face ashen.

A hint of anxiety grew in his heart.

He wondered if his luck was just too bad; every time, he was tasked with the most arduous missions, and in the end, he would inevitably suffer heavy losses, his strength severely diminished, requiring months or even a year to recover his military power.

He hoped that this time, such a situation would not occur again.

But for now, he could only pray silently.

The thought of the Emperor allowing his army to plunder the city first brought Werner some comfort.

Just then, a messenger rushed over, panting, and reported to Werner: "General, both Hungarian legions have been repelled! They almost couldn't even cross the moat!"

"What did you say?"

Werner suddenly turned around, his eyes wide with some anger.

Realizing the situation was dire, he immediately turned to look at the city walls, and sure enough, the breach had been retaken by the defenders who arrived shortly after.

Most of the soldiers who had rushed into the city were likely doomed.

Gale Bem, at this moment, held a sharp blade, leading his personal guards to firmly hold the breach, killing or repelling the continuously surging Austro-Hungarian Army soldiers.

His entire body was almost stained red with blood, and his arm was so sore that he could barely swing his longsword unconsciously.

But he still gritted his teeth and persevered, continuously encouraging the surrounding soldiers.

As dusk approached, the Saxon Army was forced to retreat to the siege camp after leaving behind over five hundred bodies.

The Serbia also lost hundreds of men that day, while the casualties of the two Hungarian legions were much smaller.

The defenders on the city walls were also not having an easy time; Bem's regular army alone lost over a quarter of its strength, not counting the large number of casualties among the militia.

Some people began to waver, especially the citizens who were coerced into defending the city, and some who wanted to protect their property.

Now they were no longer afraid of the Hunyadi Family private soldiers' threats, because the Emperor's army was clearly even more terrifying.

After Bem personally executed several individuals who attempted to incite other garrison soldiers to surrender, the unrest temporarily subsided.

Outside the city, the siege camp remained brightly lit at night, with Austro-Hungarian Army soldiers undertaking guard duties, constantly patrolling the camp to prevent potential night attacks from the enemy.

Near the Emperor's tent, the Imperial Guard were patrolling, ensuring the Emperor's safety.

However, the angry roars occasionally emanating from the tent made them more concerned for the generals who had been summoned inside.

"Is this how you repay my trust?"

Laszlo asked, his face cold and his anger suppressed, as he questioned the two Hungarian military governors.

Beside him, Werner's face was equally grim, his eyes burning with a rage that seemed ready to consume the two damnable Hungarian generals.

Paul hung his head, silent, while Szécsényi beside him flushed crimson, filled with shame.

"Your Majesty, this… it's not that we didn't fight hard enough, but rather that the enemy's resistance was too tenacious."

Szécsényi endured the Emperor's heavy gaze, attempting to offer an explanation for the army's poor performance.

Paul opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then said, "Your Majesty, our forces consist mostly of light cavalry, skilled in open field combat, not siege warfare."

"So you're saying your soldiers can't even walk once they dismount?" Laszlo's anger intensified, his voice suddenly rising an octave. "You two have brought shame upon the Hungarian Border Guard!"

"Your Majesty, I am unworthy of your trust. In the next assault, I will not disappoint you—I will personally lead men onto the high walls of Timisoara!"

Szécsényi steeled his resolve and made a solemn pledge to the Emperor.

Laszlo was momentarily taken aback by his reckless determination, wondering if he had spoken too harshly.

But then he reconsidered: Werner's army had suffered such heavy losses that afternoon, and these two Hungarian military governors, who had not exerted themselves, were undeniably at fault.

So, he said in a deep voice, "Good! The army will rest tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, I will personally oversee the battle. This time, Timisoara must be taken, otherwise…"

The Emperor did not finish his sentence, but the two military governors felt a jolt.

The implication of the Emperor's words was clear: if they performed as poorly as they had today, their fate would be far worse than mere dismissal from military service. "Please rest assured, Your Majesty."

Throughout the night, the wails of the wounded occasionally echoed through the camp, as the failed assault had dealt a significant blow to the troops' morale.

Even so, Laszlo had no intention of giving the rebels inside the city any respite.

On the morning of the fifteenth day of the siege, a new round of bombardment began.

This time, he ordered an increase in the intensity of the shelling, which lasted for a full half-day, creating numerous new breaches in the city walls that the defenders had largely repaired under the cover of night.

Karl's Austro-Hungarian Army was moved behind the siege fortifications on the north side of the city, and Laszlo deliberately allowed the city's defenders to witness this high-spirited, well-rested army moving into the fortifications.

The soldiers occasionally let out deafening battle cries and sounded clear bugle calls, keeping the defenders in a constant state of high tension.

The Serbian Army's assault on the south bank finally achieved a breakthrough, successfully breaching the defenders' increasingly weak defenses and occupying the entire south bank district.

However, this district was not large, accounting for only a quarter of the city's total area.

The bridges across the river had been destroyed by the defenders, forcing the Serbian soldiers who had rushed into the city to halt at the riverbank.

On the opposite bank, the sturdy fortress—the true Timisoara Fortress—stood in the city center.

Its walls were taller and more robust than the city's walls, and the numerous towers on its surface were covered with dense firing slits, leaving almost no blind spots for shooting.

Moreover, just outside this castle, there was a narrower moat directly connected to the Begej River, turning the land where the castle stood into a small island in the river.

Facing such a formidable fortress, the Serbia ultimately chose not to risk crossing the river.

On the sixteenth day, the Emperor's grand army moved out again, launching the final general assault on Timisoara.

The entire army poured out, even Karl's Austro-Hungarian Army and Ester's Imperial Guard left the siege camp and advanced near the fortifications.

The eagle banners fluttering in the cold wind encouraged the soldiers' courage, while the black muzzles of the Austrian musketeers motivated the Hungarian Border Guard in another way.

After a prolonged bombardment, the grand army launched a fierce attack, with soldiers rushing towards the city walls like frenzied beasts.

The already dilapidated city walls now had multiple exploitable breaches.

Soldiers continuously scaled the walls, and even though Bem led the defenders in a desperate resistance, it was difficult to stop the fierce assault.

The Hungarian Border Guard, too, was uncharacteristically courageous today.

Szécsényi truly led his troops onto the city walls as he had promised the Emperor, and he even planted the Hungarian flag on the wall.

Of course, the cost was two arrow wounds and a stab wound on his body, but fortunately, his armor protected his vital organs, and his life was not in danger.

After about two hours of fierce fighting, as the city gate opened, the defensive line on the city walls collapsed, and soldiers poured into the city in an endless stream.

Seeing that the tide had turned, Bem, despite his immense reluctance, could only gather his remaining troops and retreat into the Timisoara Fortress in the city center.

He took a count and found that including the dozens of defenders he had left behind, there were fewer than two hundred people in the fortress in total.

The Emperor's grand army quickly swept through every street in the entire city, executing everyone within, and allowing the soldiers to plunder all valuables.

The once prosperous city was now a ruin, filled with corpses, blood, and broken walls.

Finally, the grand army surrounded the fortress.

Laszlo ascended the highest tower in Timisoara, from where he could take in the entire view of the Timisoara Fortress. "This fortress is even sturdier than the city," Matthias introduced from the side. "Its walls are thicker and taller than the outer walls, and the main castle also has impressive defenses.

If we launch a direct assault, we are likely to suffer significant casualties again."

Laszlo furrowed his brow, staring at the fortress before him with immense conflict.

This was not the toughest inner-city fortress he had encountered; in fact, he had already conquered the largest and most heavily defended inner-city fortress in the world—the Prague Royal Palace.

However, when he took the Prague Royal Palace, the city of Prague had reached a tragic state of cannibalism, whereas this fortress currently had extremely ample supplies.

"I cannot continue to waste troops here," Laszlo said with a headache. "Half a month of siege has already resulted in over four thousand casualties; it cannot go on."

He turned to look at the generals beside him and ordered, "Paul Kinizsi, I appoint you as the garrison commander of Timisoara, responsible for the defense of the kingdom's southeastern border."

"This… Thank you for the promotion, Your Majesty. I will never allow the enemy to cross the border defense line by even one step."

"It is good to have such resolve. Next, I will lead the army to continue advancing towards Transylvania. The task of besieging and capturing that fortress is entrusted to you."

Laszlo ultimately chose Paul to be the border commander.

Compared to Szécsényi, he managed his troops with strict discipline and possessed superior leadership abilities.

Paul was somewhat surprised at this moment, but more than that, he was grateful.

The Emperor entrusting Timisoara to him was not merely about handing over the siege task; it was about entrusting him with guarding the grand army's rear.

As a general originally from the Hunyadi faction, receiving such importance was truly unexpected.

This made him feel even more ashamed of his previous day's selfishness; the thought of preserving military strength at that time was truly somewhat ridiculous.

Therefore, his reply was resounding: "Your Majesty, I will not disappoint you again."

"I trust you, and I trust my judgment. I leave the matters here to you."

After Laszlo made all arrangements, the grand army rested for two days in Timisoara, then continued its advance northeast along the main road.

Along the way, towns and villages, upon hearing of Timisoara's tragic fate, surrendered at the mere sight of the army, encountering almost no effective resistance.

Hunyadi's vast territories outside Transylvania were thus pacified by Laszlo.