The Ming Dynasty: The most ruthless imperial grandson, Old Zhu begged me not to kill him.

Chapter 623 Battlefield Choice
The tribal armies to the east remained stationary, their banners fluttering in the wind, but their troops did not converge on any particular side.

Zhu Xiong Ying stood in the center of the battlefield, gripping his sword tightly, his gaze fixed on the hesitant reinforcements.

He knew that the choice he made at this moment would determine the course of the entire battle.

"Quick! Help me!"

Artesius Timur shouted loudly, his tone filled with anxiety and coercion.

His army was on the verge of collapse, and the tide of battle might be turned if these tribal chiefs decided to join the fight.

But if they choose to stand idly by, Artesius Timur will surely be annihilated.

Zhu Xiong Ying took a deep breath, raised his long sword, and his loud voice echoed to every corner of the battlefield.

"Warriors of the eastern tribes!"

"The outcome is now decided. If you continue to follow Artesius Timur, you will only bring about your own destruction!"

His words were forceful and resonant, brimming with unwavering confidence.

"You can choose to surrender to my Great Ming Dynasty. I guarantee that I will not pursue the past, but will instead give you generous rewards."

"But if you insist on following this person, you will be courting death."

The clamor of the battlefield seemed to be instantly silenced by these words, and everyone's attention was focused on the reinforcements from the eastern tribe.

The tribal leaders were clearly weighing their options, their eyes darting back and forth between Zhu Xiong Ying and Atshyustimur.

Artesius Timur's face was ashen; he gripped his knife tightly, his eyes filled with anger and anxiety.

"If you do not come to my aid today, I will never let you go!"

He shouted threats, attempting to use his last remaining power to oppress these tribal leaders.

However, a hint of despair was already evident in his voice.

The tribal chiefs were clearly unwilling to gamble their future at this time.

They were considering the principle of the winner takes all, and the current situation had already tilted in Zhu Xiong Ying's favor. Helping Artesius Timur would only drag them into the quagmire as well.

After a moment of silence, a tribal chief finally rode out on horseback.

He faced Zhu Xiong Ying, raised his weapon, and shouted, "We are willing to surrender to the Ming Dynasty!"

These words immediately shook the battlefield.

More tribal leaders made the same choice, leading their soldiers to turn their backs on Atshus Timur and show their stance to Zhu Xiong Ying.

"We are willing to surrender!"

"I am willing to follow the Ming Dynasty!"

Zhu Xiong Ying breathed a sigh of relief, but on the surface he remained calm and dignified.

He raised his longsword, his voice firm: "Very good! Your choice is wise."

"From today onwards, you will be allies of the Ming Dynasty, not enemies."

Atesius Timur's eyes blazed with fury at the sight before him; he could hardly believe his eyes.

"Traitors! You faithless bastards!"

He roared, brandishing his long sword, attempting a final desperate attempt.

Zhu Xiong Ying looked at him coldly, having already made up her mind.

"Atshüstimur, your end has come."

He spurred his horse forward, his gaze fixed on the now isolated and helpless Artesius Timur.

"You have nowhere to retreat."

Artesius Timur gritted his teeth, his eyes bloodshot, as if he wanted to fight to the death.

"Even if I die, I will never surrender!"

He roared and spurred his horse toward Zhu Xiong Ying, his long sword gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

Zhu Xiong Ying's gaze sharpened, and he swung his longsword, which collided violently with Artesius Timur's longsword in mid-air.

"clang!"

A deafening clang of metal clashing rang out, sparks flying. Zhu Xiong Ying's strength was in no way inferior to that of Artesius Timur; their warhorses passed each other in an instant, and their weapons clashed once more.

Artesius Timur brandished his long sword like a madman, as if trying to salvage everything with a final act of madness.

But Zhu Xiong Ying's swordsmanship was steady and precise, leaving his opponent no chance.

After several exchanges, Zhu Xiong Ying gradually gained the upper hand. His swordsmanship was as fast as lightning, forcing Artesius Timur to dodge in a sorry state time and time again.

"You lost."

Zhu Xiong Ying said in a deep voice, and suddenly thrust out the long sword in his hand, aiming straight for Atshüs Timur's chest.

Artesius Timur tried his best to dodge to the side, but in the end he was still too late. Zhu Xiong Ying's sword sliced ​​across his shoulder, and blood gushed out instantly.

He cried out in pain, the long sword slipped from his hand and he fell off his horse.

Zhu Xiong Ying stopped his horse in front of him, his gaze cold and stern.

"Your ambition ends here."

Artesius Timur lay on the ground, his face filled with pain and resentment.

He glared at Zhu Xiong Ying through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with hatred.

"You...you can't win forever..."

He was breathing heavily, his voice weak.

Zhu Xiong Ying looked down at him, but there was no pity in her eyes.

"History will prove that the power of the Ming Dynasty is not something anyone can challenge."

He waved his hand, and several Ming soldiers quickly stepped forward and took Arthius Timur into custody.

With that, the battle was completely over.

Timurid's army was in complete disarray, with the remaining soldiers either captured or fleeing.

Zhu Xiong Ying sheathed his sword, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a complex emotion encompassing feelings, thoughts, and reflections).

Although the battle was arduous, the Ming Dynasty ultimately achieved a decisive victory.

"Pass down the order to clean up the battlefield."

Zhu Xiong Ying said calmly, and the personal guard beside him immediately obeyed and left.

Lan Yu and the others stepped forward, their faces beaming with joy.

"Your Highness, this battle is a great victory! The Timurid Empire has been completely destroyed!"

Li Jinglong was also filled with excitement: "Your Highness, you were indeed a prophet! These tribes really did turn against us at the crucial moment!"

Zhu Xiong Ying nodded slightly, remaining calm in his heart.

"Although we have won this battle, the repercussions of the Timurid Empire have not yet subsided. We need to consolidate our gains and prevent them from making a comeback."

"Order all units to immediately reorganize their troops and prepare for the next step of the operation."

Lan Yu laughed loudly, "Your Highness, I am willing to be the vanguard and wipe out the remaining enemies!"

Zhu Xiong Ying smiled slightly and nodded.

"Okay, we'll make the next steps after the rectification is complete."

He turned and looked into the distance, already having a new plan in mind.

This war is far from over, and he must remain vigilant at all times in order to remain invincible on this ever-changing battlefield.

This victory is just the beginning.

The afterglow of the setting sun spilled onto the battlefield, and the lingering smoke of battle drifted in the wind.

Zhu Xiong Ying stood on a high ground, gazing intently into the distance.

The Timurid Empire's army had collapsed, and Artesius Timur had been captured alive.

Although the battle was won, Zhu Xiong Ying knew that the real test would come in the post-battle situation. "Your Highness, the battlefield has been cleared, and the prisoners have been held in safe places."

(End of this chapter)