On a summer afternoon, the scorching sun hung mercilessly in the sky, radiating heat relentlessly. In anticipation of the impending triumphal ceremony, at the dock, countless guards clad in bright red armor had surrounded Pier 1, leaving no space to spare.
Meanwhile, a hundred paces away from the dock perimeter, exhausted soldiers were exerting themselves to the fullest. Many of them had their clothes torn, their shiny shoulder badges ripped off, their proud hats snatched away, and even their boots trampled countless times.
It was quite a challenge to maintain order with a thousand soldiers on the outskirts of the port, facing the enthusiasm of over fifty thousand onlookers from the bustling city of Yanjing.
The enthusiastic spectators were armed with flowers, cheers, applause—of course, many young women even prepared to offer their warm kisses. Stirred by such emotions, the one thousand security soldiers felt like a broken boat in a sea of tumult, ready to capsize at any moment.
At this moment, they envied the guards standing within the dock's security line, as they could leisurely form ranks, flaunting their freshly issued bright armor and weapons, without worrying about being accosted by some fervent citizen the next second.
In preparation for this grand triumphal event, by the decree of His Imperial Majesty Emperor Augustus VI, the Imperial Great Canal leading to Yanjing was widened by a full half, at the cost of ten thousand canal workers' labor for half a year and nearly three million gold coins from the imperial treasury.
All these sacrifices were made solely to allow the flagship of the Imperial "Xth Expedition Fleet," the "Ghost," to smoothly navigate through the canal and reach the eastern gate port of Yanjing, to bask in the cheers of the populace, thereby showcasing the empire's mighty military prowess.
No one would care whether the cost of such a spectacle was worth it.
Because the previous Imperial Chancellor, who initially strongly opposed the idea, had been angrily sent back to his hometown by the Emperor to retire. The newly appointed Chancellor's only choice was how to wrack his brains and scrape together every penny from the empire's financial expenditures to satisfy that "overambitious old man."
Of course, the title "overambitious old man" could only be deeply buried in the Chancellor's heart, very deep indeed...
As the afternoon sun shone on the broad surface of the canal, and the first hint of a sail appeared in the distance, the crowd couldn't contain their cheers.
As the massive warship, stretching two hundred paces in length, slowly approached the port, its majestic and imposing silhouette stunned all the Yanjing citizens who had gathered to watch.
The flagship of the Imperial Sixth Expedition Fleet, the "Ghost," pride of the Imperial Navy, and the largest warship in the history of the empire. To welcome this grand ceremony, the warship had undergone thorough repainting and refurbishment, its hull painted in an intimidating black. Amidst waves of cheers, the Ghost seemed to approach the port like a black giant monster, its mast flying a huge banner of thorns in the wind.
As the anchor dropped, the tens of thousands of citizens at the port erupted into excitement. Countless hats flew into the air, countless shoes were trampled, and numerous legs were bruised. The poor security soldiers could only shrink the perimeter of their cordon to the best of their ability, again and again...
Count Raymond, commander of the Imperial Expedition Fleet, stood atop the deck of the ship, expressionless, watching the jubilant crowd at the port.
This thirty-nine-year-old Imperial Marshal, an Imperial Count, was dressed in his most magnificent attire, adorned in light armor covering his entire body, with a scarlet cloak billowing behind him in the wind. Two medals hung from his chest—awarded for his participation in the previous two expedition fleets. And undoubtedly, this triumphant return would earn him a third Imperial medal.
Count Raymond's gaze seemed somewhat distracted, his focus not lingering on the cheering crowd at the port. A closer observation would reveal a faint furrow in his brow, a hint of impatience.
Damn, this armor is too heavy, and utterly foolish!
Count Raymond didn't believe that as a naval officer, one would need to wear such heavy armor for sea battles. That was something for the army. And as for wearing these medals, it seemed even more foolish to him. It was like a nouveau riche flaunting their wealth—true nobility wouldn't stoop so low. He felt such actions were beneath his dignity.
Moreover, the cheering crowd below was simply too noisy, their cheers crashing like waves in a tsunami, eroding what little patience Count Raymond had left.
Subconsciously, he glanced at the deck beneath his feet.
The Ghost had been refurbished for today's welcoming ceremony three days ago, its deck now devoid of bloodstains. The worn deckboards from past expeditions had been replaced, and even the prow's ram had been replaced... Damn, those sycophants who liked to flatter His Majesty had even turned the prow's ram into a likeness of His Majesty himself. And supposedly, this statue had been personally crafted a few days ago by a renowned imperial sculptor.
For this, the Imperial Navy had paid an additional ten thousand gold coins.
Mighty indeed. But didn't those fools realize that in a naval battle, the first thing to be destroyed after ships collided would be the prow's ram?
In his view, that ten thousand gold coins was wasted. The work of that sculptor wasn't even as practical as finding a sharp wooden stake.
In fact, at a deeper level, Count Raymond even believed from the depths of his heart that organizing this so-called Xth Imperial Expedition Fleet was a laughable and absurd mistake.
For decades, the Empire had been conducting one "expedition" after another in the South Seas.
There was no denying the countless islands in the South Seas, like scattered pearls across the vast ocean, with strange forests, primitive tribes still stuck in the clan stage, gold, gems, spices, and seafood.
But Count Raymond didn't consider "taking a dozen massive warships to bully the tiny canoes of those indigenous tribes" as any kind of "expedition."
That was nothing short of plunder, slaughter, robbery, aggression, a **'s looting!
Count Raymond didn't see anything wrong with it. The weak had always been bullied by the strong, and they needed to submit to the strong. But he believed the mistake in the Empire's policy towards the South Seas lay in the fact that these so-called expeditions were too frequent and seemed to yield increasingly diminishing returns.
In the early expeditions, the mighty Imperial Navy reigned supreme in the South Seas. When ship after ship returned laden with gold, gems, seafood, and spices, it caused a sensation throughout the empire.
But no matter how rich the granary, it couldn't withstand such frequent harvesting. Excessive plundering led to the extinction of indigenous tribes in the nearby South Seas, forcing subsequent expeditionary forces to venture farther and farther, placing a huge strain on their supply lines.
After all, the South Seas weren't just filled with easy-to-bully natives or treasures. There was also the oppressive heat, unpredictable weather, terrifying waves, and countless reefs, whirlpools, and storms...
The excessive harvesting turned what could have been the empire's granary into a desolate wasteland. Subsequent expeditions yielded less and less. Yet, ironically, the triumphant ceremonies became increasingly grandiose each time...
Count Raymond himself led the last three expeditions in recent years, earning himself a notorious reputation in the South Seas. This Imperial naval general, Count Raymond, had garnered a string of nicknames among the natives:
Bandit! Butcher! Executioner!... His hands were stained with the blood of the natives. He was the infamous aggressor in the hearts of tribal communities, the demon who burned their homes and enslaved them.
Of course, Count Raymond didn't care about these things. But what made him somewhat uneasy was that the excessive aggression had, in some ways, distorted the development of these South Seas natives, especially in terms of their military strength. He had even heard before his return that in the distant southern seas, some island nations had formed a so-called alliance to resist the empire's relentless plundering.
Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about those annoying matters anymore. Because he was well aware that this would be his last expedition. Next, he would stay in Yanjing. If all went well, he would secure a prominent position in the Imperial Command Headquarters. Then he would bide his time for a decade or two until the current Minister of Military Affairs retired. With the influence of his own family, he would become the new Minister of Military Affairs. If luck favored him a bit more, perhaps he could even satisfy his craving for being a prime minister in the last few years of his political career.
As for expeditions, damn them all. That would be the headache of the next commander of the expeditionary fleet.
Even if those natives had evolved to produce magical cannons, that wasn't his concern anymore.
Amidst the wave-like cheers, Count Raymond descended from the flagship's deck in full view of everyone, finally setting foot on the soil of Yanjing! He waved to the cheering crowd... but the gesture seemed more like shooing away flies.
First, a court official dressed in ceremonial attire boarded the ship to read out the Emperor's commendation decree, announcing that Count Raymond would be received in the Imperial Palace tomorrow morning to meet with the Emperor and receive his knighthood.
As desired, his political future seemed bright.
But then, a servant in gray attire pushed through the crowd and whispered another message into Count Raymond's ear, a message that instantly darkened his mood to the depths!
The message was from home.
Being away on expedition for over three years, with the vast sea hindering communication, Count Raymond had no idea about the situation back home.
Most importantly, it concerned his wife. When he set off three years ago, his wife was nearing childbirth, and now, he didn't even know whether the child born was a son or a daughter!
The message from home was: It's a son.
However, the son born seemed to be a simpleton.
This news almost knocked Count Raymond off the peak of joy.
Almost!
But almost every Yanjing dignitary who came to greet the triumphant commander of the expedition noticed the darkening complexion of the Count, nearing the brink of collapse.