The once-formidable Fort Zeelandia had already begun collapsing into chaos long before its walls were fully breached, as soldiers from Gao Family Village, the Zheng Faction, and the Dadu Kingdom poured into the city from all directions, pressing inward with such overwhelming force that the Dutch defenders, whose morale and command structure had already been shattered by relentless bombardment, could no longer mount any meaningful resistance.
What remained of the battle was no longer a contest but a slow and inevitable tightening of the noose, as defensive lines shrank from the outer walls toward the city center layer by layer, while the echoes of grenade explosions crept deeper into the heart of the fortress, each blast signaling not just destruction but the steady extinguishing of the will to fight.
The sounds of resistance grew weaker with each passing moment, fading into scattered gunfire and desperate shouts before gradually dissolving into something close to silence.
Inside his command room, Peter sat alone, holding a newly issued short musket in his hands as though it were the final decision he had yet to make, and after a long moment of stillness, he opened his mouth and slowly pushed the barrel inside, his finger resting on the trigger as hesitation flickered across his face, revealing that even now, with everything already lost, he still found it difficult to let go of his life.
No matter how he tried to reason through it, he simply could not understand how his enemies had become this powerful, nor could he accept that a fortress meant to withstand seven months of siege had fallen so quickly and so completely that the entire battle felt like a cruel joke played at his expense.
The door suddenly burst open as his adjutant rushed in, only to freeze in place when he saw what was happening, his voice trembling as he spoke.
"Sir, if you put the weapon down and surrender, there is still a chance they might spare you, so there is no need to choose this path."
Peter let out a hollow laugh, the sound devoid of any real emotion, as though he had already reached a conclusion that made such hope meaningless.
"They refused to accept our surrender earlier, so tell me, what reason do you have to believe they would suddenly show mercy now."
The adjutant stood there in silence, unable to respond, because there was no argument that could overturn that simple reality.
After a brief pause that seemed to stretch far longer than it should have, Peter finally made his decision, tightening his grip before pulling the trigger without giving himself another chance to hesitate.
A single gunshot rang out, sharp and final, and with that, the battle for Fort Zeelandia came to its end.
The remaining Dutch soldiers, shaken and desperate, raised white flags once again and shouted toward the advancing forces with all the strength they had left.
"Our commander is dead, we surrender, please accept our surrender."
The first to understand their words were the pirates of the Zheng Faction, who had once served as intermediaries for the Dutch and still had many among them who could speak their language, which made their reaction far more complicated than simple hostility, as their relationship had shifted from cooperation to bitter enmity after the Battle of Liaoluo Bay, leaving behind a history that no one could easily define.
Some of the pirates lowered their weapons, not out of kindness but out of uncertainty, and their gazes turned toward their immediate superiors, who in turn looked further up the chain of command, creating a strange pause across the battlefield where the violence halted, not because it had to, but because no one wanted to make the wrong decision.
That hesitation remained until Zheng Zhihu (Mang Er) arrived at the front alongside Zheng Chenggong, his presence immediately drawing attention from everyone nearby.
"Second Boss, the Dutch have surrendered, so what do we do now, do we accept it or do we finish them off," several pirates asked, their voices carrying both eagerness and restraint.
Mang Er grinned, the kind of grin that made it clear his personal preference leaned toward bloodshed, though he made no attempt to hide it.
"If it were up to me, I would say we kill them all and be done with it, but I am just a rough man who does not understand these refined decisions, so it would be better to hear from someone who does."
He turned his gaze toward Zheng Chenggong, clearly handing the decision over.
"Chenggong, you explain it."
Zheng Chenggong barely took a moment before responding, his tone calm and steady as if he had already considered this long ago.
"We accept their surrender."
Mang Er chuckled, clearly entertained.
"And why would we do that, since I am curious what we gain from letting them live."
Zheng Chenggong spoke without hesitation, his reasoning precise and deliberate.
"When Dao Xuan Tianzun defeated the English, he chose to accept their surrender and even lifted restrictions on trade afterward, so I believe his stance toward the Dutch would not be any different."
Mang Er narrowed his eyes slightly.
"So this is about trade."
"Yes, it is about trade," Zheng Chenggong replied, his expression turning more serious.
"Killing them all achieves nothing of value, and since the one most responsible has already paid with his life, their crimes have been answered, so what remains is to consider the interests of the nation."
He continued, his voice firm.
"Trade with the Western world benefits us."
Mang Er burst into laughter, clearly satisfied with the answer.
"If that is how you see it, then we accept their surrender."
Just as his words settled, a loud uproar rose from behind as Ganza Xia Alami charged forward with a group of warriors from the Dadu Kingdom, their momentum carrying them straight toward the Dutch soldiers who were still holding their white flags.
"Do not come any closer, we have already surrendered," the Dutch shouted in panic, though their words went completely unheard.
Ganza Xia Alami shouted loudly in his own language, urging his warriors forward with unrestrained enthusiasm.
"Cut off their heads."
The warriors responded with loud battle cries, surging forward without hesitation.
Zheng Chenggong could not help but smile wryly before shouting a single word he had learned from them, forcing it out clearly.
"Stop."
Ganza Xia Alami came to an abrupt halt, but the warriors behind him could not stop in time and crashed into him one after another, collapsing into a tangled pile that looked more chaotic than heroic.
Pinned beneath the others, Ganza Xia Alami struggled to lift his head, confusion evident in his voice.
"Why should we stop at a time like this."
Zheng Chenggong chose his words carefully, simplifying them so they could be understood.
"If you kill them, you gain nothing, but if you capture them, you can demand compensation."
Ganza Xia Alami's expression changed instantly, his eyes lighting up with realization.
"So it works like that."
He had already been troubled by his dwindling wealth, finding it increasingly difficult to trade with his Han allies, and the idea of exchanging prisoners for money struck him as both practical and brilliant.
He quickly shouted to his warriors, his tone completely shifting.
"Stop killing them, dead men cannot be traded for money."
The warriors responded enthusiastically, finally halting their advance and stepping back, their priorities adjusting with surprising speed now that profit had entered the equation.
With that, the battlefield finally settled, and Zheng Chenggong let out a quiet breath of relief, fully aware that these allies had nearly turned victory into chaos through sheer enthusiasm.
Ganza Xia Alami led his people to the side, content to watch for the moment.
Not long after, a young boy of about thirteen or fourteen pushed his way out from the group of warriors and approached him, gently tugging at his sleeve.
This boy was Ganza Xia Malu, his son.
Unlike Western naming customs, where family names came last, the people of the Dadu Kingdom placed their family name first, making Ganza Xia the shared family name of both father and son.
Ganza Xia Alami looked down at him, his expression softening.
"My son, why have you come to the battlefield at such a young age, are you already brave enough to stand among warriors, because that would make your people proud of their prince."
Ganza Xia Malu spoke softly, his tone far more serious than his age suggested.
"Father, have you not noticed that in this entire battle, we have done little more than get in the way."
Ganza Xia Alami fell silent, because he had indeed noticed, even if he refused to admit it openly.
Still, pride would not allow him to acknowledge it, so he forced a confident reply.
"We were the main force in this battle, do not underestimate our contribution."
Ganza Xia Malu did not argue, because he had already learned something during his time in Nantun, where he often interacted with Zheng Chenggong and Shi Lang, both close to him in age.
The less knowledge a person had, the more stubbornly they clung to their pride, and his father clearly fit that pattern.
Instead, he spoke calmly.
"Father, I have come to realize that we are clumsy, and the more I see, the more certain I become."
Ganza Xia Alami said nothing, though this time it was quiet acknowledgment rather than denial.
"I want to board the ships of our Han friends and learn from them," Ganza Xia Malu continued, his voice steady.
"I have heard that they have schools where one can learn all kinds of knowledge, and I want to study those things so that when I return, I can lead our people toward a better future."
Ganza Xia Alami frowned slightly.
"You are not an ordinary child, you are a prince, and if you go to another group, you may become a hostage."
Ganza Xia Malu sighed softly.
"Father, do you truly think they need a hostage, because if they had any ill intent, they could have destroyed our entire Dadu Kingdom at any time, and they would not need a prince to do so."
Ganza Xia Alami had no answer.
"I believe they are friends, not enemies, and if I go to a friend's place, then I am not a hostage," Ganza Xia Malu said quietly, his conviction unwavering.