Chapter 415: Spain

But it's too late.

The Longxiang Army's Flintlock Gun has already fired.

"Bang bang bang..."

Rows of bullets flew over, and the sailors on the ship fell in droves.

Some jumped into the sea, some knelt on the deck to surrender.

Zhu Yong ignored those ships, leading his men to charge into the city.

At the breach in the city wall, Portuguese soldiers were frantically patching it, using Stone and wood to block the gap.

Seeing the Great Ming troops charge, they dropped what they held and turned to run.

Zhu Yong hoisted the Double Hammers and strode into the breach.

Two Portuguese soldiers brandished spears and charged; he swung a hammer, sending the two flying, they slammed into the wall and their brains burst.

Another officer rode in on a horse, brandishing a sword toward his neck.

He sidestepped, a hammer struck the horse's head, the warhorse whinnied and fell, the officer was flung out and broke his neck.

Zhu Yong charged into the city, with five thousand Longxiang Army behind him.

The city's Street was narrower than Lisbon's, but dirtier. Trash and excrement littered the ground, sticky underfoot.

The houses on both sides were built of Stone, their walls flaking, revealing dark Stone inside.

The windows were small and shut tightly.

Few people were on the Street; some hid inside houses, some knelt by the roadside, trembling all over.

Zhu Yong ignored them and headed straight for the royal palace at the city center.

The royal palace sat on a small hill in the city center, built of Stone, whitewashed outside, looking more imposing than Lisbon's royal palace.

A few guards stood at the gate; seeing the Great Ming troops charge, they dropped their weapons and fled.

Zhu Yong burst into the palace; inside it was empty, not a soul in sight.

"Search..." he said lightly.

The Longxiang Army surged into each room, searching room by room.

Soon, a soldier ran out of the basement, cupping his fists and saying, "Prince, there are people below."

Zhu Yong followed him down into the basement.

The basement was huge, piled with crates.

When the crates were opened, they were filled with Gold and Silver jewelry, Jin light sparkling, dazzling enough to hurt the eyes.

In the corner of the wall crouched several people, men and women, old and young, all trembling.

An elderly woman in a lavish robe held a seven‑eight‑year‑old boy, murmuring something as if praying.

"Prince, these are the Queen and the Prince." Wang Gui stepped forward from behind.

The king fled.

He abandoned the Queen and Prince and ran away himself.

"Bring them up..."

The Queen and Prince were taken to the palace's great hall, knelt on the floor, trembling all over.

The Queen, in her early forties, was well kept, but now her face was pallid, lips trembling, unable to speak.

The Prince, seven‑eight years old, with golden hair and blue eyes, looking pure and fair, now curled in his mother's arms, eyes brimming with tears.

Zhu Yong looked at them and fell silent for a moment.

"Wang Gui, ask them where the king ran to."

Wang Gui translated it.

The Queen, trembling, said something at length.

"Prince, she says the king fled north, went to England, saying he would bring reinforcements back."

Zhu Yong's mouth twitched slightly.

Bring reinforcements...

How far is England from Portugal?

Even if he brings reinforcements, it would take several months.

Several months—enough time for him to wipe out all of Portugal.

"Take them down, keep a good watch, and do not mistreat them."

Wang Gui responded with a nod, and led people to escort the Queen and Prince down.

At dusk, Zhu Shuang led ten thousand troops from the Land Route, arriving in a hurry.

He rode his horse, drenched in sweat, his face alight with excitement.

"Second Prince, has Porto been taken?"

"Taken, the king fled, the Queen and Prince are in our hands."

Zhu Shuang grinned, "A monk can run, but the temple cannot be escaped."

Zhu Yong nodded.

Porto is the largest city in northern Portugal; taking Porto puts all of Portugal into Great Ming's hands.

The remaining small towns can be taken care of by sending troops.

"Second Prince, where shall we strike next?" Zhu Shuang asked.

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "First secure Portugal, clean up both the south and north, then strike east."

"Strike east, Spain?"

"Yes, Spain."

Zhu Shuang's eyes brightened.

Spain is much larger than Portugal, and its population is greater as well.

If we capture it, the territory could expand by more than double.

Of course, present‑day Spain hasn't been unified yet and isn't really called Spain; the protagonist has been calling it that, so everyone calls it Spain.

"Second Prince, how many troops does Spain have?"

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "I don't know, but surely more than Portugal. Spain is a great nation, populous, with strong forces; we can't underestimate it."

Zhu Shuang nodded and asked no further.

At night, Zhu Yong sat on the steps of the Porto Palace, watching the distant sea.

The moon rose, shining on the sea, making the waves sparkle.

The sea breeze blew in, carrying a salty, fishy scent and also the unpleasant stench from Porto City.

But he had already become accustomed to it.

Zhu Qiong Jiong squatted beside him, holding a piece of dry rations, took two bites, then set it down.

"Father, everything here has a sour smell?"

Zhu Yong glanced at his son and said, "The people here don't bathe, don't clean up, everything is foul."

Zhu Qiong Jiong pursed his lips and shoved the dry rations back into his pouch.

"Father, when will we go home?"

"Soon, after we finish beating Spain."

Zhu Qiong Jiong nodded and asked no more.

He hoisted the Wolf Fang Club, stood up, walked to his father's side, and together they gazed at the distant sea.

The sea breeze blew in, carrying the salty, fishy scent.

The youth stood beside his father, his back straight as a freshly drawn sword.

"Father, do you think Spain will be cleaner than here?" Zhu Qiong Jiong suddenly asked.

Zhu Yong thought for a moment, shook his head, and said, "No. Europeans are all the same—no bathing, no cleaning, living in cesspits."

Zhu Qiong Jiong grinned, "Then we'll go over there and give them a wash."

A faint smile tugged at Zhu Yong's corner of his mouth.

Give them a wash?

That sounds right.

Aren't Europeans the ones who don't bathe?

Then we'll wash them.

If they can't be cleaned, kick them straight into the sea so they wash every day.

Until they're clean.

"Let's go back to sleep; we have business tomorrow."

Zhu Qiong Jiong replied, hoisted the Wolf Fang Club, followed behind his father, and entered the palace.

In Porto City, lanterns lit up one by one.

This northern Portuguese city, the largest in Portugal, has, from today, a new master.

But the campaign hasn't finished yet.

The king fled, heading to England.

Spain remains to the east, France to the north, the Holy Roman Empire farther away.

Europe is vast, with many nations.

One after another we could fight, and it would take only a few years to finish.

But Zhu Yong was not in a hurry.

He had plenty of time.

He was thirty‑six this year, at the prime age for battle.

Another ten, twenty years, and he would subdue all of Europe, planting Great Ming's banners in every city.

Then, later, he would return home.

Return to Yingtian Prefecture, to his parents, to Guanyin Nu and the children.

He stood by the window, looking out at the distant sea.

Moonlight spilled onto the sea, making the waves glitter.

The sea breeze blew in, carrying the salty, fishy scent.

He inhaled deeply, turned, and walked back into the house.

Night deepened, and the lanterns of Porto City went out one by one.

In the distance, on the sea, the steamboat's lights still flickered.

Those were Longxiang Army vessels, patrolling the harbor to prevent the king's fleet from returning.

A new day will soon arrive.