Reborn In 17th century India with Black Technology - Chapter 888

Chapter 888: Fall of Budapest
May 1672

Budapest, Ottoman Empire

“Boom!”

The deafening sound of artillery fire blazed throughout the fortress of Budapest. Blood and rubble were scattered all over the ground. The battlefield was hectic with soldiers from both sides, screaming in panic, anger, and desperation.

“Reload the cannons and fire a volley!” Commanding General Kemal Aydin Pasha roared at the top of his lungs, nerves popping up at his neck.

Sounds of the new Ismail cannons roared to life as they ploughed the field where the enemy stood, causing the screams of the enemy to echo loudly even amidst the deafening artillery. Blood and gore littered the battlefield with cries of sorrow and grief, making the atmosphere depressing. However, the enemy was no soft persimmon either. General Sigmund Meyer was enraged as he roared,

“Position the cannons to the far end of the battlefield and rip the wall to shreds!” He looked at his subordinate with a sharp gaze. “I need a breakthrough now, or I will have your head!”

The subordinate ran in panic, relaying orders to the leader of the artillery.

Looking back towards the wall, Sigmund had a scowl on his face.

“Prepare the heavy infantry. Let us send these godless Ottomans to hell. They have already overstayed their welcome on the Christian land.”

“Yes!”

Soon, the artillery manufactured by the French, English, and Dutch—after copying and replicating cannons from the Bharatiya Empire—were lit ablaze as they roared to life in deafening torrents of explosion and sound.

With forty 20-kilogram cannons forming a grand battery and the forty cannons firing at the same time, the fortress wall was left shaken and riddled with holes.

“Reload and shoot a second volley!”

Jacob Plank, leader of artillery operations, had come to embody the very meaning of his last name—*Plank*, symbolising war—as he personified conflict itself through his relentless craving for the enemy’s destruction by brutal means.

“Boom Boom!”

Several dozen 20-kilogram projectiles whisked through the air and, within split seconds, made contact with the already riddled fortress wall, triggering a massive explosion. Shockwaves and rubble flew through the air as the smaller blasts resonated with one another, merging into a single, thunderous detonation—so loud that it momentarily paused the battle and drew everyone’s attention.

Kemal Aydin Pasha covered his eyes as a shockwave ripped through the battlefield, sending out vibrations through the ground that could be felt several kilometres all around.

“Damn it! Damn it!!”

Kemal punched the wall in anger. “Why did these bastards get involved in this war all of a sudden?” He cursed with a vicious look on his face, his bleeding cheek making him look even more hideous and distorted.

“All the soldiers, plug the breach! I don’t care if you have to use your bodies to plug it! I want it to be turned into a meat grinder where these bastards would not dare to step foot in!”

Seeing the subordinate who was just standing still without moving, Kemal pulled out his sword and struck it on his head by the hilt.

“Did you hear what I said? Guard the breach now! If we lose the fortress, His Majesty will have us beheaded, so make those useless worms make use of their pitiful life, at least giving the chance for the rest of us to survive!”

In the ruthless eyes of Sigmund, the heavy infantry moved forward, resisting the hail of bullets that were coming in two different directions while they were at it.

Several heavy infantry dropped down immediately, blood holes on their armour and blood seeping out of the holes, while others rushed into the breach, letting out blood-curdling screams.

“Bang!” “Bang!”

“Bang!” “Bang!”

Sounds of gunshots came from within. Kemal wanted to turn the breach into a meat grinder, and that was exactly what he got. Faced with the situation of life and death, the soldiers of the Ottoman Empire, who were pushed to the corner, became ruthless and stubbornly stood in front of the heavy infantry, firing one shot after another as if they were emotionless killing machines, with the command of load and fire burnt into their memory.

Surprisingly, it worked. Without having to aim, each and every shot hit the heavy infantry wearing metal armour.

“Ahh!”

Shrill screams were constantly heard. The metal monsters fell down one by one, their screams causing vibrations in their own armour. It was a huge loss, but not everything was lost, because in their desperation, the heavy infantry charged forward at full speed, causing a crack to appear in the wall of humans.

Sigmund looked at the hourglass and felt like the time was right. “Heavy cavalry, rush forward! Rip open the pitiful meat shield of Ottomans. Let us wash the shame of our nation with the blood of these infidels.”

Soon, around 1000 horses, all adorned with armour and carrying on them strong armoured soldiers with spears, rushed into the breach at a speed not allowing the Ottomans to react.

Although a few dozen horses and their riders fell down by the hail of bullets that was coming nonstop from the top of the fortress, which was still intact, it caused very little hindrance.

Within the breach, the Ottoman soldiers who had preliminarily patched up the gap opened by the heavy infantry were immediately horrified when a metal giant rushed towards them at speeds they could not understand.

“BOOOM!!”

A huge explosion was heard, and a red mist appeared in the air like a cloud. It floated in the battlefield like a red and bloody incarnation of death, inviting people to its embrace, like a doorway to hell, making the remaining Ottoman troops flee in panic. They now had a psychological shadow they couldn’t get rid of in their minds.

The explosion was not like the deafening explosion of artillery, but it was a more visceral explosion of flesh being torn apart. Within an instant, it was as if a 10,000-ton diesel train carrying iron ore, travelling at 150 kilometres per hour, hit a cow on the crossing—completely obliterating the cow, with not even its debris left intact, becoming blood on the windshield.

Sigmund smiled. “There is no longer any resistance. Butcher those Ottomans. No need for hostages—the Ottoman Empire wouldn’t last for long anyway.” His words were tinged with venom, his gaze, cruel and unrelenting.

In the desperate eyes of Kemal Aydin Pasha, the fortress of Budapest was overrun by the enemy.

The last thing he remembered before everything went dark was a piercing pain on the back of his neck as he was riding a horse.

Finally, after two full days of unrelenting pressure, Budapest had fallen. The flag of the Ottoman Empire was lowered, and the flag of the two-headed eagle was raised. To this sight, the people who were living in Budapest several kilometres away, looking at the golden eagle drenched in blood fluttering proudly in the wind, were all overjoyed. They took to the streets in celebration, no longer fearing oppression and exploitation by the Ottomans. They were now subjects of the great Habsburgs.

—

The news about the fall of Budapest spread very quickly.

Mehmed IV was in disbelief after receiving the intelligence from the battlefield.

“How could we lose so quickly? Hasn’t the fortress of Budapest been equipped with several dozen Ismail cannons? They should not be weaker than the Bharatiya cannons. Why would the fortress fall?”

With his heart beating fast like a drum, he continued to read more, but in the end, he couldn’t help but be furious. “Damn these traitors.” He was enraged; it was not the Russians who attacked Budapest but the Holy Roman Empire.

“I knew these lizards couldn’t be trusted, damn it.” He was so angry because the Holy Roman Empire, although not aligned with him, should have slowed the momentum of the Russians, but instead, they launched an all-out attack on Budapest with 100,000 troops and a few hundred artillery pieces, all produced by the English, French, and Dutch.

After venting his anger for a while, his mind became clear-headed.

“With the loss of Chișinău and Budapest, it is clear that we are fighting against three superpowers: the Russians, the Germans, and the Bharatiyas. We are vastly outnumbered. This is the most dangerous situation we have ever faced. The Western Europeans can no longer be relied upon. Fazil, I have decided to recruit 500,000 more troops. We can take back everything we have lost in the future, but for now, let us resist the onslaught of our three enemies.”

Fazil Ahmed Pasha was nervous. “But Sultan, we have already conscripted over a million troops so far. If we conscript 100,000 more, not only can our finances not keep up, but there is a chance that riots will break out in various par….”

“Kill them all!”

Before Fazil Ahmed Pasha could end his sentence, Mehmed IV spoke out without any emotion in his tone, but the implication of his words caused all the blood to drain from his face, turning it white in fear.

“Assyrians, Greeks, Armenians, Romanians, Yazidis, Kurds, and anyone else for that matter — it is because of these bugs that the Russians and Germans are able to breach the fortresses so quickly, aren’t they? Since these people keep causing trouble for us, there is no need for them to exist. Simply slaughter them all and take their money, fill up the coffers, recruit more troops, and continue the war. Since we ourselves are in danger of extinction, there is no need for these worms to stay behind safe and sound.”

Fazil Ahmed Pasha was trembling, looking at the back of the Sultan, who was ordering a massacre of the whole race as if it were nothing. Fazil felt dread seep into his soul, making him breathless. He suddenly felt that the Sultan looked a little unfamiliar.

‘Was he always so tyrannical, cruel, and ruthless, or did the danger brought to the Ottoman Empire make him like this?’ He did not know the answer to the question, and maybe no one else did. He just knew that he had to relay the orders and follow the instructions, or else he might not know how he would die.