CHAPTER 254: CHAPTER 243 TURNING DEFEAT INTO "VICTORY

Kingdom of East Africa, First Town, Qivite Palace.

"How has the reorganization of the new army been progressing recently?" King Constantine inquired the officials of East Africa.

"Your Majesty, we’ve completed 80% of the progress. We’ve dismantled and reorganized the original troops, and based on merits, we’ve promoted a group of outstanding individuals from the last campaign to serve as the new military leaders."

"Hmm, once the reorganization is complete, send the files to my office," Constantine instructed.

"By the way, there’s one more thing. What have the Portuguese been up to lately? Have they taken the southern shore of Lake Malawi?"

"We haven’t heard of such news. Our troops stationed at the South Salzburg Province border have yet to see the Portuguese forces. The scouts haven’t ventured deeply into southern Malawi, but within more than two hundred miles south of South Salzburg Province, no Portuguese have been sighted," said Merk.

"Could it be possible that they haven’t dispatched their troops yet?" Von der Leyen speculated.

"That seems unlikely. It’s been several months now. We didn’t take long to occupy such a large area in the southwest," Merk replied.

"I remember that point. The Portuguese should have set out. Two months ago, our intelligence personnel in Maputo reported that the Portuguese organized a team heading inland, but the numbers were small, seemingly only a few hundred. At that time, this piece of intelligence didn’t catch our attention, but looking at the timeline, it’s very likely that it is the Mozambique colonial forces conquering the Kingdom of Malawi," Felix mentioned.

"A few hundred people should be enough to fight an indigenous kingdom, but achieving effective occupation wouldn’t be easy unless the natives turn into fools willing to become slaves for the Portuguese," Sivert scoffed.

"It’s possible that this Portuguese force encountered some irresistible factor leading to their annihilation—a mountain torrent could wipe them out in an instant. After all, Mozambique has substantial rainfall, and the rivers often flood," Von der Leyen said.

"Forget it, let’s not talk about these Portuguese any longer. Whether they take Malawi or not is irrelevant to us. Let’s complete the army reorganization before July, and then we can madly expand into the inland regions," Constantine set the tone.

...

South of the Kingdom of Malawi, in the Chiboka region, a small team of Portuguese was resting. Suddenly, a shadow flew out from the nearby dense forest.

"Watch out, Ross." The squad leader, Anthony, tackled the warrior named Ross to the ground.

At the same time, the shadow from the dense forest revealed its true form: an arrow flying with a whizzing sound over Anthony and Ross, finally landing in the dirt of a distant clearing.

"Damn it, what are you standing there for? Shoot!" Anthony yelled.

The Portuguese soldiers, realizing the situation too late, started shooting wildly in the direction the arrow came from, causing leaves from the trees above the dense forest to flutter to the ground.

Was it going to be just like the previous days, with no results?

"Damn, those guys got away again. If they fall into my hands, I’ll skin them alive," Anthony said angrily.

As Anthony was complaining and the Portuguese soldiers were reloading their ammo, suddenly, from the place of their wild shooting, a green "grass monkey" leaped up from the ground and dashed into the depths of the dense forest.

"Not good! Fooled again?"

Anthony, noticing the disturbance, was annoyed. Although the "grass monkey" had green leaves as camouflage, its pitch-black skin exposed during the escape had already explained everything.

"Captain, should we chase?" a soldier asked quietly.

"Chase? Chase what! You can’t see that one person just ran circles around you! Besides, don’t enter the dense forest; you couldn’t know if there are natives’ traps ahead. If it weren’t for my keen observation, Ross would be meeting God by now! So, you rookies better listen up. I don’t care what you did before, but from now on, you listen to my commands, or none of you will make it back alive!" Anthony admonished his subordinates with bitter disappointment.

Anthony was actually feeling quite helpless. This temporarily assembled team was truly difficult to lead; they lacked the necessary vigilance on the battlefield, and their discipline was poor.

However, it wasn’t entirely their fault; they were originally a group of sailors, rarely operating in the unfamiliar environment of Africa’s inland savannahs and rainforests. Despite being on land, it was possibly no safer than being pirates on the high seas.

...

In the rear.

"Bastards, you can’t even deal with a bunch of natives. What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to let those Prussian barbarians next door laugh at our great Kingdom of Portugal?"

The General Commander of the Portuguese colonial expeditionary force in Malawi, Buerlade, roared indignantly.

No reason not to be angry. This time, the Portuguese Mozambique colony dispatched over five hundred people, along with more than three thousand Mozambique indigenous auxiliary troops, to attack the southern part of the Kingdom of Malawi.

As a result, after three months, they had only pushed the front to the Chiboka region, and the most critical issue was that they were running low on ammunition, and capturing the southern part of the Kingdom of Malawi was nowhere in sight.

"Commander, it’s not that the soldiers are not straining every nerve, but the natives by the shores of Lake Malawi are too cunning. They run the moment they spot us from afar. When we move forward, they sneak out from the forest and bushes after us. Our manpower is simply insufficient to handle them. Plus, because of Lake Malawi, the climate here is excessively humid and hot, causing significant attrition even during normal marches."

"Captain Charvis, I don’t want to hear any excuses. We are Europeans; our Mozambique has been here earlier than the Prussian barbarians. Why haven’t they encountered such issues?"

"Commander, although the Prussians may be barbaric, they are naturally skilled in land warfare, while we Portuguese are traditionally a maritime nation. To speak frankly, we might lack the advantage over Prussians in inland operations."

Charvis’s excuse was quite fitting. Prussia is a Land Power Country, so they thrive on the African continent, while we Portuguese are a maritime nation, thus having strengths on islands and coasts.

Buerlade wanted to find reasons to reprimand, but after pondering, he suddenly realized Charvis made sense.

"Moreover, our Mozambique troop is also temporarily cobbled together. Honestly, the Mozambique colony has been peaceful for years, and thus can’t exert fighting capability," Charvis continued taking advantage of the situation.

"Although what you said might have some truth, what if we can’t complete the mission now? Not to mention the ammunition issue is a hassle; continuing the fight with such large casualties will definitely make the colonial government hold you accountable," Buerlade said.

Although Buerlade was the General Commander of this expeditionary force, his role was merely titular, to add prestige, because he had connections at the top, so the war failures were mainly Charvis’s responsibilities.

Charvis broke out in cold sweat; he carefully recalled something and then, with a spark of insight, said to Buerlade: "Commander, do you remember the heavy rain a few days ago?"

"Ah! Of course, my coffee pot got soaked and couldn’t be lit, making it impossible for me to enjoy hot coffee that day."

Spoiled brat! Charvis internally despised Buerlade, but outwardly, he amiably said: "Commander, if you consider this rain, it’s most likely we experience river flooding and mountain torrents, and right near Lake Malawi the terrain is quite uneven. Why don’t we embellish the battle progress a bit in the report?"

"How to embellish it? The situation is a mess!" Buerlade curiously asked.

"Commander, we can say that under your brave leadership, our forces made significant advances, but human planning couldn’t fathom the heavens’ designs. Just as we were about to capture the entire southern Kingdom of Malawi, our main force unexpectedly encountered a mountain torrent, so..."

"That’s a good idea, but how can you ensure it doesn’t get exposed?"

"Our own people are manageable; after all, there aren’t many left, so we can unify the story. It’s mainly about those natives. Given those who fled and died, there’re still over a thousand remaining. Why don’t we just take them out here, and when the colonial government asks, we say they fled in the mountain torrent, while the valiant Portuguese soldiers didn’t scatter under your inspiration..."