Chapter 515: Triangle

On the fifth day after Fisi City fell, Zhu Xiongying stood on the palace tower, looking at the rolling hills to the south.

The morning wind blew from the direction of the Sahara, carrying the dry scent of sand and a faint sound of camel bells from afar.

It was a caravan on the Sahara trade route, unaware that Fisi had already changed hands.

"Brother, there's news from Sijir Masha," Zhu Gaochi came up the stairwell, holding a freshly compiled military report.

Zhu Xiongying took it and unfolded it.

The Vanguard Camp has arrived outside Sijir Masha City; all three oases along the way are under control, the water sources are intact, and the supply line is smooth.

The remnants of the Marin Dynasty did not damage the oases; instead they fled south, crossing the Sahara Desert.

"Abu Hassan has fled," Zhu Xiongying handed the report to Zhu Gaochi.

Zhu Gaochi scanned it, frowned, and said, "Crossing the Sahara, that's Mali Empire territory; he must be going to call for reinforcements."

"Let him call for help; if the Mali Empire dares to come, we can deal with them at once," Zhu Xiongying turned and looked at the streets of the city.

On the streets of Fisi City, soldiers of the Longxiang Army were organizing prisoners to clean up trash.

After a few days, the stench in the city had lessened considerably; although it still didn't compare to Yingtian Prefecture, at least one could breathe.

A few local villagers crouched at their doorways, watching the iron‑clad soldiers pass by; their eyes no longer held the initial fear.

Getting used to this, it won't take long to become a habit.

"Gaoci, how long will the Grain and Fodder last?"

"It's enough for an 80,000‑strong army for four months, and with the spoils taken from the Marin Dynasty's treasury, it can last six months," Zhu Gaochi opened the ledger.

"Six months is enough," Zhu Xiongying descended the tower.

In the great hall of Fisi Palace, Zhu Shangbing was studying a map.

The sixteen‑year‑old boy wore a suit of iron armor, a Long Sword at his waist, and stood motionless before the map.

Zhu Jixi crouched in a corner polishing his blade, Zhu Gaoxu lay on the table sketching something with a charcoal pencil, and Li Jinglong sat on the threshold leafing through a poetry collection.

"Everyone's here, let's convene," Zhu Xiongying entered and took the Main Seat.

A few people gathered around.

Zhu Xiongying spread the sea chart on the table and pointed to the location in West Africa.

"The Mali Empire, the strongest empire in West Africa, its area larger than all of Europe; its king is Mansa Musa, famous among the Europeans.

It is said that when he went on pilgrimage to Mecca, he took several hundred camels laden with gold, scattering money along the way, driving down the price of gold in Cairo."

Zhu Gaoxu looked up, his eyes sparkling, and said, "How much gold must that have been?"

"I don't know, but certainly far more than the Marin Dynasty," Zhu Xiongying said, drawing a line on the map.

"The Mali Empire has no coastline; it's inland West Africa. To strike them, we must come by sea, land at Guinea Bay, then push inland.

The route passes through tropical rainforest, the roads are rough, but it's still better than crossing the Sahara Desert."

Zhu Gaochi nodded, pointing to Guinea Bay on the sea chart, and said, "Here, although the Mali Empire lacks a coastline, its sphere of influence is not far from the sea.

Landing here and advancing north for four to five hundred li will reach their core region."

"The fleet will set out from Hudah, sail south along Africa's western coast, and arrive in about half a month," Zhu Xiongying folded the sea chart.

"Brother, I'll lead the vanguard," Zhu Qiongjiong hoisted the Wolf Fang Club onto his shoulder.

"We can't do without you," Zhu Xiongying glanced at him, a slight smile curling his lips.

At that moment, Zhu Gaoxu suddenly spoke, "Brother, Abu Hassan has fled; might he be contacting other powers? North Africa isn't just the Marin Dynasty; to the east lies the Hafus Dynasty, which, though at odds with Marin, might ally with Great Ming if they arrive."

The hall fell silent for a heartbeat.

Zhu Xiongying looked at his fifteen‑year‑old cousin.

The kid is usually boisterous, but his mind works quickly.

"Gaoxu is right; we must prevent them from joining forces. Once Sijir Masha stabilizes, we'll first send envoys east to negotiate with the Hafus Dynasty.

Those who submit will be dealt with according to Great Ming's rules; those who refuse, after we finish the Mali Empire, we'll deal with them later."

Zhu Gaoxu grinned and kept drawing on the paper.

Zhu Gaochi, standing nearby, couldn't help but say, "Gaoxu, you've drawn Africa as a triangle."

"Close enough; it's just a triangle," Zhu Gaoxu replied without looking up.

Zhu Shangbing leaned over for a glance and almost burst out laughing.

The Africa map Zhu Gaoxu drew indeed resembled a crooked triangle.

Zhu Jixi rose from the corner and sheathed his polished Long Sword.

The Jin Prince's heir stood tall, broad‑shouldered and massive, like a wall.

"Prince, when do we set out?"

"When the supply line at Sijir Masha is fully secured, we'll depart. Qiongjiong, you take the Vanguard Camp back to Hudah and ready the fleet."

"Understood!" Zhu Qiongjiong hoisted the Wolf Fang Club and strode out of the hall.

Outside Sijir Masha City, the Vanguard Camp was assembling.

Zhu Qiongjiong rode a reddish‑brown horse, gripping the Wolf Fang Club, and stared at the distant gray‑yellow city wall.

Sijir Masha had been taken; the defending troops surrendered, and the townsfolk became obedient.

Next step: return to Hudah, board the ships, skirt the Sahara, and strike straight at the Mali Empire's western coast.

"General, the troops are ready," an Imperial Troops rider arrived.

"Depart…" Zhu Qiongjiong gave his warhorse a spur, and it surged forward.

Five thousand Vanguard troops followed closely, marching north along the route they came.

Each of the three oases along the way had garrisons, the water sources were well protected, and the supply line was unobstructed.

After four days, the Vanguard Camp returned to Hudah.

Hudah Harbor held three hundred motor vessels, their hulls freshly painted, with white smoke billowing from their funnels.

This is a fleet requisitioned from Great Ming, carrying fifty thousand troops and three months' worth of Grain and Fodder.

The remaining thirty thousand troops stay at Fes and Sijilmasa, tasked with defending the city and maintaining the supply line.

"Board the ship…" Zhu QiongJiong dismounts, strides onto the gangplank.

Five thousand of the Vanguard Camp file onto the ship in single file.

The fleet slowly sails out of Xiu Da Port into the Atlantic Ocean.

The sea color shifts from light blue to dark blue, then from dark blue to ink green.

The wind and waves rise; a few small boats are tossed violently, but Zhu QiongJiong stands at the bow, unmoving.

The days at sea are monotonous and long.

Each day presents the same view: sky merging with sea, sea merging with sky.

Occasionally a few seabirds fly by, and occasionally a few fish leap out of the water.

Zhu QiongJiong trains on the deck every day, lifting iron blocks, doing push‑ups, practicing sword techniques, steadfast as a thunderbolt.

His strength grows daily; he lifts a two‑hundred‑jin iron block as if it were a toy.

After ten days, the fleet rounds the northwest tip of Africa and enters Africa's western coast.

The sea color changes again, from ink green to light blue, and the wind and waves subside.

Zhu QiongJiong stands at the bow, gazing toward the eastern horizon.

There lies the African continent, in the direction of the Mali Empire.

"General, there are ships ahead…" the lookout on the mast shouted.

Zhu QiongJiong lifts his head and looks in the direction the lookout points.

In the distance, the outlines of several small ships appear on the sea, their hulls bearing triangular sails and painted white.

"They are Arab merchant ships…" Vice General holds a telescope and watches for a moment.

"Ignore them, keep moving."

The Arab merchant ships evidently spot the massive fleet, panic, turn around, and flee westward.

The fleet continues southward.

After another five days, land appears on the horizon.

"General, ahead is Guinea Bay," Vice General points ahead.

Zhu QiongJiong squints and watches for a moment.

The land is lush green, completely different from the barren North Africa; tropical rainforest stretches from the shore inland, endless as far as the eye can see.

"Relay the order: make for the shore, land."

The Command is passed down, the Vanguard ships accelerate toward the coast.

On the shore stands dense forest, its canopy covering the sky and blocking the sun, letting no light through.

Several local black men are fishing at the sea, and upon seeing the looming black fleet, they drop their nets and flee.