Chapter 508: Expedition to Africa

Zhu Jixi followed behind, the nineteen‑year‑old Crown Prince of Jin was very tall, broad‑shouldered and massive, looking like Zhu Gang.

Li Jinglong walked beside him, just over twenty, white and clean, dressed in a brocade robe, looking like a frail scholar.

But he was gripping a Long Sword, its scabbard inlaid with gems, looking less like a weapon and more like a decoration.

"Brother Jinglong, can you use that thing in battle?" Zhu Gaoxu leaned in from behind.

Zhu Gaoxu is Zhu Di's second son, fifteen years old, as black and thin as his father, eyes sparkling, exuding a clever vigor.

Li Jinglong gave him a brief look and said calmly, "Can."

Zhu Gaoxu chuckled and asked no further.

He knew Li Jinglong wasn't as frail as he seemed; the last time they sparred in the camp, he sliced a Wooden Stake in two with a single slash, startling the generals present.

The party exited Wu Men, each mounted, heading toward Wu Wang Fu.

Zhu Xiongying rode at the front, Zhu QiongJiong beside him, Zhu Gaochi and Zhu Shangbing behind.

"Eldest brother, over in Africa, how do you plan to fight?" Zhu QiongJiong asked.

Zhu Xiongying thought for a moment and said, "Africa is larger than Europe, has fewer countries, but each is not small."

The Mali Empire in West Africa is larger than the whole of Europe, has a larger population, and its army claims a hundred thousand.

The Marin Dynasty in North Africa, right beside the Mediterranean, has decent shipbuilding, and its navy is not weak.

The Swahili City‑State Confederation in East Africa, on the Indian Ocean, trades with Arabia and India, and is rich beyond measure."

Zhu QiongJiong listened, his eyes growing brighter.

"Then which shall we attack first?"

"First attack the Marin Dynasty; they are in North Africa, closest to Europe, so our supply line would be shortest.

Capture the Marin Dynasty, we gain a foothold, then head south to strike the Mali Empire, then east to strike the Swahili City‑State Confederation."

Zhu QiongJiong nodded and added, "Eldest brother, I'll lead the vanguard."

Zhu Xiongying gave him a look.

"Fine, you lead the vanguard."

Zhu QiongJiong grinned.

The party arrived at Wu Wang Fu, Zhu Yong was waiting in the courtyard.

Dressed in dark standard robes, standing under a locust tree, hands clasped behind his back.

The two bronze drum hammers leaned against the tree roots, shimmering a dark‑gold light in the sun.

"Father!" Zhu QiongJiong flipped off his horse and strode over.

Zhu Yong looked at his son, a twenty‑one‑year‑old youth broad‑shouldered, standing there like a drawn sword.

"Over in Africa, are you confident?"

"Yes, Father, rest assured, I won't disgrace you."

Zhu Yong nodded, patting his shoulder.

"Go!"

Zhu Xiongying walked over, stood before Zhu Yong, and bowed deeply.

"Second uncle, the nephew has left."

Zhu Yong looked at him.

This nephew is the one he had watched grow from a nursing infant to now a twenty‑year‑old imperial eldest grandson.

"Xiong Ying, this Africa battle, fight well, don't bring shame to your father."

Zhu Xiongying lifted his head, his eyes a little red.

"Second uncle, rest assured."

Zhu Yong nodded, said nothing more.

Zhu Gaochi walked over, bowing deeply.

"Second uncle, the nephew has left."

Zhu Yong looked at this white, plump nephew, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Chi'er, the Grain and Fodder matters are yours, don't let the great army starve."

"Second uncle, rest assured."

Zhu Shangbing walked over, bowing deeply.

"Second uncle, the nephew has left."

Zhu Yong patted his shoulder.

"Shangbing, your father fought many battles over in Australia, you learned from him so long, don't bring shame to your father."

"Second uncle, rest assured."

Zhu Yong also looked at Zhu Jixi, Li Jinglong, Zhu Gaoxu, and gave each a few instructions.

"Go!"

Several young men turned, left Wu Wang Fu, mounted again, and rode away.

Zhu Yong stood under the locust tree, watching their backs disappear into the alley entrance.

Guanyin Nu stepped out of the house, standing beside him.

"Prince, you are reluctant?"

"Reluctance must be set aside; the hawk must spread its wings, they have grown, it's time they venture out."

Guanyin Nu nodded, said nothing more.

Three days later, Yingtian Fu Dock.

Dawn had not broken, the dock was already bustling.

One hundred thousand troops were in full gear, their iron armor glinting coldly in the morning light, and the Flintlock Guns all swished toward the sky.

War horses whinnied, and the War Flags flapped.

Three hundred internal‑combustion ships were moored on the river, their hulls coated with fresh paint, and their smokestacks billowing white smoke.

Zhu Xiongying stood on the bow of the "Longxing Hao", clad in silver‑white armor, a Long Sword at his waist, his gaze steadfast.

Zhu Qiongjiong stood beside him, dressed in dark, sturdy attire, a short sword at his waist, the Wolf Fang Club leaning against the rail, its head polished to a shine.

Zhu Gaochi stood at the stern, a stack of ledgers spread before him, making the final checks.

A white, plump face wore a smile, fingers flicking the abacus beads, clacking loudly.

"Chi'er, stop calculating, it's time to set out," Zhu Shangbing said, emerging from the cabin.

"We'll be ready soon; the last batch of Grain and Fodder has been loaded, enough for the army for three months," Zhu Gaochi said, closing the ledgers and standing.

Zhu Jixi walked over from another ship, leapt onto the "Longxing Hao" via the boarding plank.

The Jin Prince heir was tall and broad‑shouldered, clad in iron armor, a Long Sword slung at his waist.

"Brother, the fleet is ready; we can set out."

Zhu Xiongying nodded.

"Send the Command, weigh anchor."

The Command was passed down, and the three hundred internal‑combustion ships raised anchor simultaneously.

The fleet slowly left the dock, heading toward the middle of the river.

On the shore, Zhu Biao and Zhu Yong stood side by side.

Zhu Yuanzhang and Empress Ma stood at the highest point of the dock.

Empress Ma's eyes were red, but she did not cry.

"Biao'er, Xiong Ying is leaving; we don't know when he'll return," she said softly.

Zhu Biao grasped his mother's hand and said softly, "Mother, Xiong Ying has grown; it's time for him to go out for experience."

Empress Ma nodded, saying nothing more.

Zhu Yuanzhang stood with his hands behind him, watching the fleet drift farther away.

"Yong Er…" he suddenly said.

"Father…" Zhu Yong turned around.

"Do you think Xiong Ying can win this battle?"

"Can…"

"You're so sure?"

"Father, Xiong Ying is big brother's son, our Zhu Family's eldest grandson; he won't lose."

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at his son, was silent for a moment, then smiled.

"You're right; the descendants of the Zhu Family never lose."

The fleet sailed out of the Yangtze estuary into the East Sea.

The wind and waves on the sea grew larger.

Zhu Xiongying stood on the bow, gazing at the endless sea ahead.

It was his first time going to sea.

He had previously followed his father to Tianjin and to Goryeo, but those were coastal trips, reachable within a day's sail.

This time was different; this time they would go to Africa, thousands of miles away.

"Brother, do you get seasick?" Zhu Gaoxu emerged from the cabin, his complexion a bit pale.

"I don't, are you?" Zhu Xiongying glanced at him.

"A little…" Zhu Gaoxu lay on the rail, dry‑vomiting twice.

Li Jinglong walked over from behind, handing him a Water Bag.

"Drink some water, but not too much; too much will make you vomit worse."

Zhu Gaoxu took the Water Bag, gulped, and lay on the rail again.

Zhu Jixi came from the stern, his complexion also unwell, but he held back from vomiting.

"Chi'er? Why isn't he seasick?" Zhu Gaoxu looked up, scanning around.

Zhu Gaochi sat on the stern deck, ledgers spread before him, scribbling and drawing; the ship rocked violently, yet he sat steadily, unaffected.

"Chi'er is like a weight; he can't get seasick," Zhu Shangbi emerged from the cabin, chewing a piece of Dry Rations.

Zhu Gaoxu laughed, and halfway through he fell back onto the rail, dry‑vomiting.

The fleet traveled for three days, passing the Zhoushan Archipelago.

Another five days later, they crossed the Taiwan Strait.

Ships on the sea grew fewer, and occasionally a few fishing boats could be seen, keeping far away from this massive fleet.

Zhu Xiongying stood on the bow, holding a sea chart in his hand.

The sea chart was drawn by the Jinyiwei a few years earlier when they sent scouts to Africa; though rough, its general outlines were accurate.

The African continent resembled a huge exclamation mark, with the Sahara Desert to the north and tropical rainforest to the south.

The Marlin Dynasty in North Africa, bordering the Mediterranean, controlled the Sahara trade routes, wealth dripping.

The Mali Empire in West Africa spanned an area larger than all of Europe, with a greater population, and its army claimed a hundred thousand.

The Swahili City‑State Alliance in East Africa, on the Indian Ocean, traded with Arabia and India, its merchant ships never ceasing.

"Brother, where shall we strike first?" Zhu Qiongjiong walked over.

"First we attack the Marlin Dynasty; they are in North Africa, closest to Europe, and our supply line will be shortest."

Zhu Qiongjiong nodded, then asked, "How many people does the Marlin Dynasty have?"

The Jinyiwei's intel says they can field fifty‑to‑sixty thousand troops, many cavalry, average infantry, and a navy that controls the Mediterranean.

Zhu QiongJiong smiled.

Fifty‑to‑sixty thousand? Not many.

He's fought two years in Europe; he's seen every formation.

"Big brother, I'll lead the charge."

Zhu Xiongying looked at his cousin, a slight smile curling his mouth.

"Again you say we can't do without you."

The fleet continued southward.

After another half‑month, the outline of land appeared ahead.

"Prince, Africa lies ahead," a General shouted down from the mast, pointing forward.

Zhu Xiongying squinted and watched for a while.

The land was a gray haze, flickering in the morning mist.

The shore was low sand dunes, beyond which stretched an endless desert.

The Sahara Desert.

"Command: make for shore, land."

The Command was relayed, and the vanguard ships surged toward the coast.

No one stood on the shore, only a few camels grazing in the distance; seeing the dark mass of the fleet, they fled in terror.

Zhu QiongJiong was the first to jump ashore, his feet sinking into the soft sand.

He inhaled deeply; the air smelled of brine, of sand, and carried an indescribable aura.

Africa.

He turned and looked at the fleet behind him.

Three hundred internal‑combustion ships, a hundred‑thousand‑strong army, ironclads like a forest, Flintlock Guns flashing toward the sky.

Zhu Xiongying stepped off his ship and stood beside him.

"QiongJiong, this is Africa."

"Hmm..."

"Are you scared?"

"Not scared."

Zhu Xiongying smiled.

He turned and gazed at the vast continent.

"Command: the whole army forms battle array and moves inland."