As night fell, the Ottomans camp remained brightly lit, with continuous tents resembling a sea of stars.
Veli Mahmud paced back and forth in the main camp, his face grim, filled with anxiety about the upcoming battles.
Inside Giurgiu, soldiers seized this rare opportunity to rest and recuperate.
Vlad and his generals sat together, discussing their next moves.
"We must seize this opportunity to launch a proactive attack and disrupt the Ottomans deployment. General Janos's troops must be advancing towards us," a Hungarian general said.
Vlad frowned, pondered for a moment, and then said, "We must not act rashly; we still don't know the Ottomans's next move."
Just as everyone was arguing, a scout rushed in to report, "My lord, there's a disturbance behind the Ottomans camp!"
Everyone was startled, and Vlad immediately stood up. "Come, let's go see."
They ascended the city wall and found the Ottomans camp had fallen into chaos.
It turned out that the Hungarian Border Guard's vanguard had launched a surprise attack on the Ottomans's rear.
These brave and fearless warriors appeared silently like ghosts, raiding and burning a portion of the Ottomans's provisions and supplies.
Blazing fires illuminated the night sky, and thick black smoke billowed upwards.
Upon learning of this, Veli Mahmud flew into a rage, immediately assembled his troops, and simultaneously guarded against a counterattack from the city's defenders while encircling and suppressing the detestable Hungarian force.
At this time, Szilágyi, commanding the main force of the Hungarian Border Guard, was rapidly marching from Belgrade.
After passing through the Severin pass, the road was no longer rugged, but the cold wind became even more biting, and the Hungarian soldiers' steps were firm and swift.
The Ottomans's encirclement force engaged in fierce combat with the Hungarian Border Guard's vanguard.
The agile Hungarian light cavalry, riding their warhorses, engaged in brutal close combat with the Ottoman's elite cavalry.
Hooves flew, swords clashed, and the clang of metal echoed in the night sky.
However, such a drawn-out battle gradually put the Hungarian cavalry in a difficult situation; they were tightly entangled by the Ottomans, unable to break free for a time, and the situation was critical.
Just at this critical moment, Szilágyi's main force arrived in time.
Their appearance was like a ray of hope, instantly igniting the fighting spirit of the warriors.
The Hungarian vanguard's morale surged; they quickly adjusted their formation, cooperated seamlessly with the main force, and together charged into the Ottoman army like a surging torrent.
Shouts of battle shook the heavens and the earth, and swords clashed, producing dazzling sparks.
The Ottomans's troops were caught off guard by this sudden and powerful impact, and their formation was thrown into disarray.
At the same time, the fleet that had set sail from Belgrade quietly approached under the cover of night.
Janos stared intently ahead, silently praying for the success of the operation.
The surface of the Danube River shimmered under the moonlight, and the river flowed gently, yet it could not conceal the bloody slaughter that was about to come.
The Hungarian fleet's ships silently drifted downstream, with oarsmen rowing in unison and with power, trying to make no sound.
As they approached the Ottomans camp, a look of determination flashed in Janos's eyes, and he suddenly gave the order, and immediately cannons roared in unison.
Flames instantly lit up the night sky, and cannonballs and burning arrows rained down like meteors on the Ottomans's ships and riverside camp.
The enormous explosions were deafening, and the Ottomans's fleet immediately fell into chaos.
Sailors were awakened from their sleep, running and shouting in panic, and the camp was immediately enveloped in a shadow of fear.
Some ships were hit and sunk in the first round of shelling and arrow rain, their flaming and smoky wreckage floating on the river, forming a hellish scene.
The Hungarian fleet's soldiers shouted, firing arrows and bullets; dense rockets rained down on the Ottomans's ships like a storm, sails caught fire, and the flames spread rapidly with the strong wind, as if to devour everything.
The Ottomans's warships attempted to organize a counterattack, but it was difficult to form effective resistance in the chaos.
The Hungarian fleet, relying on excellent tactical coordination and an unexpected night raid, quickly gained the upper hand.
The ships of both sides intertwined on the Danube River, and a brutal boarding battle erupted.
Hungarian marines were brave and fearless, wielding swords and leaping onto the Ottomans's ships, engaging in fierce hand-to-hand combat.
Every swing carried endless rage, and every roar was filled with a desire for victory.
Blood stained the waters of the Danube River, and bodies floated with the current.
During the battle, the clash of swords, the shouts of soldiers, and the screams of the wounded intertwined, deafeningly loud.
Janos personally commanded the flagship, leading the surrounding ships to lock onto targets and concentrate fire on the Ottomans's large warships.
His reassuring voice echoed through the gunfire, inspiring the soldiers to fight bravely.
After a fierce battle, the Ottomans's command system was paralyzed, and the fleet became even more chaotic.
Without the command of the flagship, the Ottomans's fleet found it even more difficult to organize effective resistance.
Ultimately, under the fierce attack of the Hungarian fleet, the Ottomans's fleet was defeated.
Ships fled in all directions, leaving behind a burning and ruined scene, with black smoke lingering over the river, as if it were the curse of war.
Janos then ordered the fleet to dock, and the marines jumped ashore, quickly assembling to attack the Ottomans camp from the riverbank.
At this time, Vlad from within the city had already led the defenders out of Giurgiu.
They charged at the enemy like tigers descending from a mountain, their morale high, determined to unleash all the frustration and anger accumulated from days of defending the city.
Szilágyi, Janos, and Vlad, three forces like three iron fists, simultaneously struck the Ottomans, whose morale had dropped to rock bottom, from different directions.
Veli Mahmud struggled to resist on the land battlefield; he brandished his scimitar, shouting loudly, trying to reorganize his army.
But a stray arrow, like a venomous snake in the darkness, suddenly struck his leg.
He fell to the ground in pain, his face pale from blood loss.
His personal guards, seeing this, quickly surrounded him, forming a human wall with their bodies, desperately protecting their commander.
"Break through! Break through to the east!" Veli Mahmud shouted, enduring the severe pain, his hoarse voice filled with despair and unwillingness.
He had already foreseen his end, but to preserve more strength for the Ottoman Empire, he had to lead his troops to break through.
Under the desperate cover of the cavalry and slave personal guards, Veli Mahmud led his remnants in a difficult retreat to the east.
They broke through the heavy encirclement of the Hungarian and Wallachian forces, leaving behind a tragic battlefield.
On the battlefield at this moment, more Ottomans were in despair; soldiers abandoned their armor and scattered like headless flies.
Many desperately rushed towards the Danube River, hoping to find a glimmer of hope.
They plunged into the bitterly cold winter river, splashing large amounts of water.
Some Ottoman soldiers could not swim, struggling desperately in the water, flailing their hands, and crying for help.
But the swift current mercilessly swept them away; their heads bobbed on the surface a few times before disappearing, swallowed by the surging river, leaving only strings of desperate bubbles.
Still other soldiers desperately tried to swim to the opposite bank, but were mercilessly shot down by Hungarian soldiers standing ready on the ships.
Arrows flew, and the hit soldiers screamed as they sank into the water; the gushing blood instantly stained a large area of the river, turning the Danube River into a river of blood.
At dawn, peace finally returned to the battlefield.
Golden sunlight fell upon this war-torn land, illuminating the scattered corpses and broken weapons.
The soldiers looked at the ravaged battlefield and the widespread Ottomans corpses, and cheers echoed through the sky.
This was a great victory!
They defended their homeland with blood and courage, writing an immortal legend.
However, everyone knew that the real challenge had not yet arrived—the Ottoman Sultan's army was gathering.
A more bloody and brutal war awaited them ahead.