Chapter 279: Aborigines

The 14th year of Hongwu, the 17th day of the tenth month.

North Bank of the Australian continent.

The sun had just risen from the horizon, turning the beach into a golden hue.

Zhu Yong led two thousand soldiers and fifty craftsmen, and had been marching along the coastline for a full twelve days.

During those twelve days, they discovered three great rivers, two mines, and countless flora and fauna never seen before.

Kangaroos, emus, eucalyptus trees, acacias… each amazed the soldiers.

Yet they never saw any people.

"Prince, do you think there are any people in Australia?" Zhang Wu asked, following Zhu Yong as they walked.

Zhu Yong halted, glanced at the distant mountain ranges, then at the marks on the beach.

"There are." He pointed to a shallow imprint on the sand. "What do you think that is?"

Zhang Wu leaned in to look and was stunned.

It was a series of footprints.

Not animal's, but human's.

The footprints were shallow, yet the outlines were clear, five toes splayed, with no shoe marks.

"Aborigine!" Zhang Wu inhaled a sharp breath of cold air.

Zhu Yong nodded, straightened up, and looked toward the direction the footprints extended.

The footprints headed north, disappearing into distant scrub.

"Send the orders down: everyone on guard, weapons never leave your hands, no one may advance without orders," Zhu Yong said in a deep voice.

"Yes!"

The orders filtered down layer by layer, and the previously relaxed formation instantly grew tense.

The soldiers raised their Flintlock Guns, the craftsmen were corralled in the middle, and they continued northward along the coast.

After about five li, the forward scouts suddenly turned back.

"Prince! There's a village ahead!"

Zhu Yong raised an eyebrow and quickened his step forward.

He climbed over a small mound, and the sight before him made him stop.

Below the mound lay a flat meadow, with a small river winding through its center.

On the flat ground by the river stood dozens of crude shelters, built from branches and bark, low and dilapidated.

Around the shelters, dozens of dark‑skinned people were moving about.

The men were nearly naked, wearing only a beast hide around their waists, holding wooden sticks or stone spears.

The women wore grass skirts, some carrying children, others washing something by the river.

Children ran about naked, their giggles drifting faintly.

"These are the Australian aborigines…" Zhu Yong squinted, scrutinizing the people.

Their skin was dark, hair curled, bodies slender, facial features entirely different from those of Great Ming people.

Exactly like the Australian natives described in the books of his past life.

"Prince, what shall we do?" Zhang Wu asked softly.

Zhu Yong paused, then said, "Hold still for now, observe the situation."

At that moment, an aboriginal child suddenly lifted his head and glanced toward the mound.

Then he froze, and the thing in his hand fell to the ground.

"Wuh..."

The child let out a sharp scream and turned to run.

Immediately, the whole village erupted into chaos.

Men seized weapons, women lifted children, everyone screamed and ran.

"Prince, they've spotted us!" Zhang Wu said anxiously.

Zhu Yong watched the panicked aborigines, feeling an odd unease inside.

They had done nothing, having lived here for millennia, yet now a band of strangers who descended from the heavens had frightened them to the point of their spirits scattering.

"Descend the hill, walk slowly, do not run, do not point weapons at them," Zhu Yong ordered.

Two thousand Ming troops stepped down from the mound, moving slowly, formation orderly.

But the aborigines grew even more frightened.

An elder who seemed like a chief brandished a stone spear at Zhu Yong and his men, babbling something.

They couldn't understand, but the meaning was clear… "Get away, don't come near!"

Zhu Yong stopped, raised both hands, indicating he meant no harm.

Then he pointed to himself, then to the troops behind him, and finally to the distant coastline, mimicking a rowing motion.

It meant… we came from the sea, no ill intent.

The aboriginal chief was stunned, clearly not understanding.

At that moment, a young aborigine suddenly lunged forward, hurling the wooden stick in his hand forcefully at Zhu Yong.

The stick traced an arc in the air, landing half a zhang ahead of Zhu Yong's feet, embedding in the sand.

"Prince!" Zhang Wu instantly stepped in front of Zhu Yong, while the soldiers behind raised their Flintlock Guns in unison.

"Stay still!" Zhu Yong shouted at them.

He looked at the young aborigine who had thrown the stick, then at the terrified faces, and took a deep breath.

"Lay down your weapons, we mean no harm," he repeated, though he knew they could not understand.

The tribal chief suddenly let out a sharp shout.

Immediately after, dozens of men rushed out from behind the village, holding stone spears, wooden sticks, and even a few with stone axes.

They quickly formed a line, shielding women and children behind them, and roared threateningly at the Ming army.

Zhu Yong looked at those crude weapons and sighed inwardly.

The Stone Age versus the Huogi era.

This is not war; it is a massacre.

"Prince, what should we do if they charge?" Zhang Wu asked.

Zhu Yong was silent for a moment and said, "If they charge… don't fire, use the back of a knife to knock them out."

"Yes!"

As soon as the words fell, the tribal chief let out another shout.

This time, those men moved.

They raised their weapons and charged toward the Ming army.

They shouted incomprehensible battle cries, their eyes filled with a death‑defying resolve.

Zhu Yong's gaze turned cold.

He originally did not intend to hurt anyone.

But since the other side chose to fight, he would not blame himself.

"Front line, raise your guns! Aim at the sky, fire!" Zhu Yong said in a deep voice.

"Bang bang bang!"

A line of Flintlock Guns fired in unison, the gunfire shaking the heavens, smoke filling the air.

The tribesmen were frightened into a halt, staring in terror at the smoking sticks.

But soon they realized those sticks did not kill, only produced a huge bang.

"Uhh…." the chief shouted again.

The tribesmen surged forward again.

Zhu Yong shook his head and took the pair of Double Hammers from his back.

Six hundred jin each, two together weighing twelve hundred jin.

He hoisted them with one hand and strode forward.

The first tribal man who rushed forward brandished a stone spear and thrust at him.

Zhu Yong sidestepped, the hammer sweeping lightly…

"Bang!"

That tribesman was flung Three Zhang away, landed on the ground, spitting blood, a chunk of his chest caved in, and died on the spot.

The second, the third, the fourth…

Zhu Yong swung the Double Hammers, each hammer taking a life.

No fancy technique, just the simplest horizontal sweep and smash.

Touch and die, get close and be maimed.

No one lives under the hammer.

In a brief half‑incense‑stick span, the more than eighty tribal men who surged forward all fell to the ground.

Not a single survivor.

The remaining women and children knelt on the ground, crying, trembling, too scared to move.

Zhu Yong halted, looking at the corpses strewn everywhere, then at the terrified women and children.

He suddenly recalled a passage he had read in a book in his previous life.

"The moment colonizers set foot on a new continent, the natives' nightmare begins."

At that time he was only reading.

Now, he has become that colonizer.

"Prince…" Zhang Wu walked over, his voice trembling slightly.

Zhu Yong waved his hand and put the hammer away.

"Bury these corpses," he said.

"What about those women and children?"

Zhu Yong looked at the trembling women and children kneeling on the ground and remained silent for a long time.

"Take them away, bring them to the mines, make them work, give them food, give them water," he said slowly.

Zhang Wu stared blankly for a moment, then nodded and replied, "Yes!"

The soldiers began clearing the battlefield, burying the corpses.

The tribal women and children were gathered, tied together with rope into a chain, and escorted forward by soldiers.

They cried and shouted, but no one paid attention.