The Maranta warship, the pitiful thin single-axis propeller, struggled constantly under the water, and the rolling white foam floated upwards.

The sails still flutter in the sky, and the wind is smooth and the sea breeze provides strong kinetic energy and is transmitted to the hull through masts and cables.

Steam power and sail power combined have more than 4,000 horsepower, which is 4,000 war horses exert force at the same time. This power is completely impossible to defeat in Arnold's heart.

Before the impact occurred, everyone in the French had never thought that they would fail. In their hearts, the Zhiyuan armor was stronger than the Maranta, but how could Prussian engineers compare to France in their power performance?

In Ryannuo's judgment, after the impact occurs, the Maranta will cause some damage, but this kind of damage is absolutely controllable, because the warship is completely designed with a watertight compartment, and the small amount of water inlets caused by crashing some of the heads of the ship will not affect the overall buoyancy of the warship.

In other words, the Maranta will be injured but will not sink. As long as this is guaranteed, Arnold has nothing to worry about. The back is crushed by the strong kinetic energy of the warships, blocking the progress of Zhiyuan tightly.

Another reason why Arnold and the others are confident is that the wind is very good today, with the northwest wind reaching level 5. The warship cuts from the north to the south, and the mast pours forty-five degrees to cover the maximum wind.

In this way, even 4,500 horsepower can be broken through.

With such strong momentum, the Maranta can resist Zhiyuan tightly, not only making it impossible for him to advance or even forcing him to retreat.

It's really great to have a wishful thinking. Unfortunately, the French suffer the loss because the intelligence is unknown. French engineers analyzed Zhiyuan with a very small amount of data before, and the answer they came up with was naturally wrong.

On Maranta's desk was the French intelligence department's assessment report, which said that the limit horsepower of the Zhiyuan would not exceed 4,000. The report was full of French arrogance and disdain for Prussia and Eastern countries.

But today, the cruel reality slapped him hard. Instead of stopping, Zhiyuan squirted black smoke like a giant, and his steps were steady and pushed the Maranta slackenedly back, back, and continued to retreat!

The British were completely stunned. They watched the two ships collided, and then the Zhiyuan pushed forward with all their might. The two ships were still stalemate for about five minutes at first, but then the Maranta could not hold on, and the entire hull was pushed by Zhiyuan and began to slowly retreat.

"God! France can't stand it anymore... The Maranta was smashed into the bow of the ship and was pushed back and forth!"

"What kind of warship is this? How powerful is the Zhiyuan horsepower?"

Jason calculated all kinds of data back and forth in his mind, and finally he was frightened to make a judgment, "7000... is definitely 7000 horsepower, otherwise it would be impossible to push such a large warship!"

"Our intelligence is all wrong! Is the industrial level of Prussia so high? God, I must send a telegram to London..."

"Come on, organize the sailors immediately... Go to Zhiyuan to help! Damn it, they must not get angry!"

Jason guessed right, the furious French sailors were not easy to mess with. When they saw that the plan had failed, they did not need the officer's orders to pick up the rifle and spontaneously began to prepare for the battle on the sidelines. Soon, seventy or eighty French sailors surged out of the bow of the ship.

At this moment, the head of the Zhiyuan ship had cut into the head of the Maranta ship, and the two sides had been connected into a whole. The head of the Zhiyuan ship was about one meter higher than the head of the French warship, which formed a situation of attacking the enemy.

Just as the French army angrily bypassed the obstacle and began to climb, a sailor's head suddenly flashed out from behind the railing of the head of the Zhiyuan ship.

"Get out! What do you want to do? Do you rob? Who dares to step forward..."

"Smash, smash it for me! Anyone who comes up will hit you, just don't shoot the first shot. If they dare to shoot the first shot, we will shoot and fight back!"

The Mauser rifle stock swung the butt and smashed it down. The big leather boots kicked down the head of the French army, and the soldiers fell down like dumplings.

Xiao Letian rubbed the green forehead and sneered and said, "Don't shoot, give the charge of firing the first shot to this group of French people! I was rushing into the canal with the broken flag, it was clear that this was going to be a problem..."

"But we have to do enough plays that should be done, so we can't give them a tribute... Wait? Who is that! Zai Chun?"

Following Xiao Letian's finger, everyone saw that the most fierce person was calling out to the head of the ship, Zai Chun, the emperor of the Qing Dynasty. Although he was so vicious in his age, he was wearing leather boots. In a short while, he kicked the noses of two French soldiers.

"Beat them! If you dare to come up, you will beat them to death! Let you attack my Dagukou! Let you bombard Bali Bridge! I will let you burn my Old Summer Palace! Kill you to death..."

The emperor was desperate, and the soldiers around him became even more fanatical. Apart from not firing the gun and not moving the bayonet, he used all the remaining moves, and they all started viciously and viciously.

The French army was not just a slap. They didn't rush forward for three consecutive attacks. They were finally ready to shoot, and only the sound of a bolt pulling sound was heard.

The Shaspo-style needle gun is a new type of rifle widely used by the French army in the Franco-Prussian War, and its performance is second only to Mauser. Of course, naval warships also have a large number of assembly, and soon more than ten rifles were lifted up.

"Everyone has... preparation..." The French officer was giving orders, but Zai Chun, who was red-eyed, jumped out.

"I am the emperor of the Qing Dynasty! Whoever dares to shoot at me! I see who dares..."

At that moment, Zaichun was possessed by his ancestors, forgot about fear and danger, and his whole body was surrounded by the flames of revenge.

But Zai Chun forgot a very critical issue, that is, there is no translator around him now, and he just called out his identity in Chinese.

The French army at their feet could understand Chinese, so they thought the one above was an ordinary little soldier.

"Fire..." the French officer roared.

"Everyone is lying down..." Just as he was preparing to raise his gun, Lin Zhen roared and issued an order.

All Chinese soldiers had basically had conditioned reflexes to the military order. As soon as they heard the order, their bodies had already begun to act. All the soldiers at the railing of the head of the ship were climbing on the ground and protecting their bodies with the deck.

Unfortunately, Zai Chun, who was so obsessed with blood, was so half a beat late. At this moment, he was the only one standing there, and the rain of bullets fired by more than ten guns rushed to him.
Chapter completed!