Chapter 511: Preparing to Land

Command, the vanguard, pull up to the shore, prepare to land.

The Command was passed down; three hundred internal‑combustion ships began changing formation, and the thirty ships of the vanguard accelerated toward the coast.

On the shore lay low sand dunes, behind which sparse scrub grew, and farther away rose continuous hills.

No people, no houses, no city, only a stretch of desolation.

Zhu QiongJiong stared at the barren coastline, his brow slightly furrowing.

"Brother, is this Africa?"

"Hmm..."

"Why is it so barren?"

"Most coastal areas of North Africa are like this—lots of desert, few oases, and the population concentrates in river valleys and coastal oases."

Zhu QiongJiong nodded and said nothing more.

The fleet pulled up to the shore.

Zhu QiongJiong was the first to leap ashore, his feet landing on the soft sand.

The sand was fine, yielding softly underfoot, sinking half a foot.

He inhaled deeply; the air carried a briny sea scent, a dusty smell, and an indefinable dryness.

This is Africa—different from Europe, different from Australia, different from America.

Zhu Xiongying stepped down from the ship and stood beside him.

"QiongJiong, what are you thinking?"

"I'm wondering when this place will become Great Ming's."

Zhu Xiongying smiled.

"Command, the whole army land, set up camp on the shore. Dispatch scouts to recon, ascertain Xu Da's troop deployments."

The Command was relayed, and one hundred thousand troops began landing.

The soldiers disembarked, formed ranks on the beach; iron armor glinted coldly in the sun, Flintlock Guns swept upward toward the sky, and bayonets flashed a chilling sheen.

Zhu Gaochi stood at the stern, directing soldiers to haul supplies.

Grain and Fodder, ammunition, medicines—each boxed and lowered from the ships, stacked neatly on the sand like a small hill.

"Gaochi, there's too much to move, we can't finish," Zhu Shangbing came over.

"Even if we can't finish, we must move them; these are the army's war supplies, none can be missing," Zhu Gaochi said without looking up, continuing his command.

Zhu Shangbing shook his head and left.

At dusk, the scouts returned.

"Prince, Xu Da lies fifty li to the southwest; the city is small but its walls are sturdy, the garrison about five thousand, with several dozen cannons," the scout said, kneeling on one knee and handing over a sketch.

Zhu Xiongying took the sketch and examined it.

Xu Da is the Marin Dynasty's most important port in North Africa and the gateway from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic.

The city is built on the coast, three sides bounded by sea, one side facing land—easy to defend, hard to assault.

"Prince, shall we storm the city overnight?" Zhu QiongJiong asked.

"No rush; the army has just landed, men and horses are weary. Rest tonight, attack tomorrow."

Zhu QiongJiong nodded and said nothing further.

Night fell, and the beach's fire pit blazed brightly.

The soldiers sat around the fire pit, gnawing Dry Rations, drinking water, chatting and laughing.

Zhu Xiongying sat inside the Central Command Tent, a map of Xu Da's defenses spread before him, staring at it for a long while.

Xu Da's walls were stone, thick and solid; ordinary cannons could not breach them.

But Great Ming's rear-mounted line-bored cannon is no ordinary artillery; its shrapnel shells explode in a spray, and even the thickest walls cannot hold.

Tomorrow we'll bombard first, blast the walls, then the whole army will charge in one surge to seize Xu Da.

"Brother, aren't you sleeping?" Zhu QiongJiong walked in from outside the tent, leaning the Wolf Fang Club against the tent entrance.

"Can't sleep..."

"I can't sleep either."

Zhu QiongJiong sat on a chair, chewing a piece of Dry Ration; after two bites he set it down, brushed the crumbs off his hand and said, "Brother, you did say I'd lead the charge tomorrow."

"I know, I know, you've said it three times already."

Zhu QiongJiong grinned, stood up, hoisted the Wolf Fang Club and walked out of the tent.

Zhu Xiongying watched his silhouette vanish behind the tent curtains, shook his head, a faint smile curling his mouth.

That cousin is just like his second uncle—once on the battlefield he charges forward, never looking back.

At first light the next day, before sunrise, the army began forming ranks.

Eighty thousand troops arrayed outside Xu Da, five hundred rear-mounted line-bored cannons lined up in a row, their barrels aimed at Xu Da's walls.

On the walls, the Marin Dynasty's garrison had already spotted the massive force.

The Horn Sound wailed, and the soldiers scrambled toward the walls—some shouting, some hauling ammunition, a chaotic mess.

An elder in a splendid long robe stood on the battlement, with several armored commanders behind him.

He was Xu Da's governor, one of the most powerful figures of the Marin Dynasty in North Africa.

Zhu Xiongying rode his horse to the front of the formation, clad in silver‑white armor, a long sword at his waist, his gaze steadfast.

Zhu QiongJiong stood beside him, dressed in dark, sturdy gear, a short sword at his belt, a Wolf Fang Club in hand, exuding a cold, lethal aura.

Zhu Shangbing held the Left Wing, Zhu Jixi stood on the Right Wing, Li Jinglong and Zhu Gaoxu were at the rear, holding the line.

Zhu Gaochi was at the rear camp, in charge of Grain and Fodder logistics.

"Open fire."

Five hundred cannons behind the gate, loaded with breech‑loading, fired simultaneously.

Flowering shells tore through the morning mist, striking the walls of Xu Da.

Boom—boom—boom…

Explosion after explosion rose and fell, bricks and stones shattered, smoke and dust surged upward.

On the city wall, the Marlin Dynasty's garrison was blown into a tumble, people and horses flailing, their cries rising and falling.

The Governor stood on the watchtower, his face pallid, lips trembling, unable to speak.

He had fought his whole life and had never seen such artillery.

After three rounds of cannon fire, the wall was blown open with a huge breach.

"Longxiang Army, charge with me!"

Zhu QiongJiong gave his horse a firm grip on its flank, and the warhorse surged forward.

Eighty thousand troops followed close behind, their hooves thundering.

Zhu QiongJiong led the front, brandishing the Wolf Fang Club as he rushed into the breach, sweeping left and right.

A few Marlin Dynasty soldiers brandished curved swords and charged; his club swept them aside, five or six men flew out, crashing into the wall, their brains splattering.

Behind him, the eighty thousand troops followed his path into the city, firing Flintlock Guns in unison, and slashing with sabers.

The Marlin Dynasty's garrison had never seen such a display; within less than an hour they scattered.

The Governor was hauled by several generals, staggering backward, and after running less than Hundred Steps, his path was blocked by a squad of Longxiang Army.

Zhu QiongJiong rode over, looking down from his height at the Governor kneeling on the ground.

"I surrender, I surrender," the Governor's voice trembled; he couldn't understand what he was saying.

Zhu QiongJiong didn't look at him, and turned his horse's head.

Zhu Xiongying rode over, stood before the Governor, his expression calm.

"Send the order, round up the captives, take over the city defenses."

Xu Da has been taken.

The Marlin Dynasty's most important port in North Africa, the gateway from the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic, has changed hands as of today.

Zhu Xiongying stood on the city wall, gazing at the western horizon.

There lies the direction of the Atlantic, a farther unknown land.

"Brother, what are you thinking?" Zhu QiongJiong came up, the Wolf Fang Club slung over his shoulder, its head still dripping blood.

"I'm thinking, how long this battle will last."

"No matter how long it takes, once it's over we'll go home." Zhu QiongJiong grinned.

Zhu Xiongying smiled.