When I transmigrated into the body of Ming Emperor Yingzong, the fall of Constantinople was only three years away.
At court, Wang Zhen held unchecked power, while the Oirats watched us like hungry wolves.
The double-headed eagle emblem hidden beneath the imperial desk burned against my palm.
“Does Your Majesty intend to follow in Zheng He’s footsteps?” Wang Zhen’s soft, sinister voice dripped with poison. “The Western Sea is beset by high winds and rough waves. It cannot bode well.”
Under the pretext of strengthening the nine frontier garrisons, I secretly ordered the Ministry of Works to upgrade our firearms, while the Fujian navy quietly reequipped its fleet.
When the first batch of Thunderclap Bomb blueprints reached the Golden Horn, the Byzantine envoy fell to his knees in tears.
“Your Majesty, can the light of the Forbidden City truly shine upon Hagia Sophia?”
At last, Wang Zhen bared his fangs. “The Emperor is secretly colluding with foreign powers! What of the realm handed down by our ancestors?”
I drew my sword, its blade reflecting Wang Zhen’s astonished face.
“This strike is for Rome! And for the Ming!”
