Chapter 54

In the more than 50 years of the city's history, Buenos Aires had never been as crowded as it was at this moment. Soldiers from the surrounding towns and from the upper reaches of the La Plata River, particularly from Paraguay, almost filled the entire city. Idle, they either spent their days getting drunk in bars or fighting with the gauchos, never a moment of peace. The rapid deterioration of public order also greatly displeased the city councilors of Buenos Aires, who had opposed the war from the beginning. Now, with no end in sight, their own properties were being looted and destroyed by the unruly soldiers, making it impossible to bear.

Captain Torres was also at his wits' end. He felt as if he were sitting on a volcano that was heating up, with the discontent of the soldiers and the gentlemen councilors like the impending eruption of anger. He could even smell the pungent sulfur, yet he was powerless to do anything. At this moment, he desperately hoped that Commander Diego Garcia would quickly defeat the Tartan fleet and return to take control of the situation. As for the unfortunate Viscount Fernandez, Torres had long forgotten about him.

"Sir, Mr. Manuel Ignacio Rodriguez requests an audience." A guard entered Torres' office and reported softly.

Torres, who was tallying the consumption of supplies, raised his head, looking weary. "Let him in."

Manuel Rodriguez was a man in his sixties, who had started his leather business and come to the New World from Seville in his youth. After decades of hard work, he had built a considerable fortune and was now one of the city councilors of Buenos Aires. Without waiting for the guard to fully open the door, he pushed it open and stormed in, roaring at Torres, "We must stop this meaningless war! Torres, we must stop the war, it's pointless!"

"Mr. Rodriguez, if you have concerns about the legitimacy of the war initiated by the governor, you can appeal to the Lima Inquisitor and the Council of the Indies. They will give you a complete response. However, I must remind you that we are already at war. The governor will not stop the war until we achieve our goals or gain sufficient benefits," Torres said slowly, his voice low but firm. "Everyone is fighting for the kingdom's interests, and I will not allow anyone to undermine this war. Mr. Rodriguez, the order for leather ammunition bags you received must be completed and delivered within a week, or I will request the Chirca Inquisition Court to revoke your leather processing license."

Manuel Rodriguez looked at Torres coldly for a moment before saying, "Very well, Captain Juan Cruz Torres, the military order will be completed on time. However, the ruffians from Asuncion have been causing a lot of trouble recently. They have been robbing in the outskirts at night, and several of my sheep have gone missing from my ranch. Someone must be held responsible, 'Don' Cruz! This is the unanimous opinion of the city councilors. I hope you will take it seriously! Goodbye!" With that, Manuel Rodriguez stormed out of Torres' office in a rage.

Torres put down his pen and watched Rodriguez's retreating back, feeling a headache. According to the plan, the army was supposed to have completed its assembly by April, then land near Tartan Harbor and launch an offensive. However, the plan was just a plan. The delays in the assembly of local garrisons, the insufficient preparation of supplies, and the tardiness of the commanders in taking their positions had repeatedly postponed the departure of the army. Now, it was already halfway through May, and the preparation of supplies was still not complete. It was truly a headache, and the Tartans even had time to leisurely harvest the crops in the fields before calmly waiting for the kingdom's army to arrive.

"Bang!" The more he thought about it, the more depressed Captain Torres became, and he angrily slammed his hand on the table, not knowing who to blame. At this moment, the guard pushed the door open again and reported, "Sir, there is a new situation."

"Say it directly if there's a situation!" Torres glared at him.

"The situation is a bit complicated," the guard's face was somewhat strange. "Sir, if you pull back the curtains and look out at the port, you'll see what's happening."

Torres stood up and pulled back the velvet curtains, looking out at the port several hundred meters away. He was immediately stunned. Outside the port, a large, entirely black ship stood like a small mountain, with a red flag with a double-sword eagle flying high. The black cannons on the deck were aimed at the port.

"God! Tartan warships!" Torres blurted out, "Why aren't the batteries firing? Fire quickly, don't let them enter the port!"

"Sir, the ship is out of the range of the shore batteries," the guard reminded him softly.

Torres suddenly realized, but then became angry again, "What does this mean? Is this a show of force? Where is Commander Garcia's fleet? How could he let the Tartan warships brazenly block the outer sea of the La Plata River? This is a disgrace! An absolute disgrace!"

"Sir, could something have happened to Commander Garcia's fleet?" the guard asked hesitantly.

"Shut up, Rafael. Even with your toes, you can think of the impossibility! A fleet of seven main warships, in these waters, no one can resist," Torres shouted, "But the cunning Tartans must have luckily evaded Garcia's fleet and secretly approached the mouth of the La Plata River, hoping to undermine our fighting spirit! These despicable Tartans!"

At this moment, a puff of smoke appeared from the cannons on the warship's deck, followed by the rumble of cannon fire. "God! They're firing!" the guard Rafael exclaimed.

A 24-pound iron ball flew over a great distance and plunged into the sea inside the port, creating a large splash of water.

Captain Torres stared dumbfounded at the Tartan warship firing into the port, his face dark and terrifying. Not just him, but all the Spaniards in Buenos Aires who saw this scene were incredulous, as if they were witnessing an unreal illusion. Since the city's founding in 1580, Buenos Aires had never been subjected to a naval bombardment by an enemy force.

Alvaro was accompanying his father, Manuel Rodriguez, on a tour of his workshop when he suddenly heard the news from a servant and was momentarily speechless.

"Alvaro, the strength of the Tartans has exceeded our expectations," Manuel's hoarse voice suddenly sounded. "I have a feeling that the kingdom may not achieve the desired results in this war. The Tartans will gain de facto control of the eastern region. They may also gain additional commercial benefits, and we must be prepared for this."

"Commercial benefits?" Alvaro asked, puzzled. "Father, do you mean the Tartans will gain legal trading rights in the La Plata region? That seems difficult."

"Of course, it won't be unlimited trading rights," Manuel explained. "Perhaps the Viceroy of Peru will limit the tonnage and frequency of Tartan ships, similar to the few foreign companies that have trading privileges in the Caribbean. This is our family's opportunity, and we must seize it!"

...

"Haha, that's refreshing!" Wang Tieshuai laughed heartily. "Blocking their door and showing off is really satisfying! Look at the ships in the port, who dares to challenge us? I'm here to provoke them, what can they do, dare anyone to come up?"

"There are only some fishing boats in the port, do you expect them to come out and challenge us?" Xiao Bai Lang also chuckled. "You should be careful of the Spanish batteries, I see there are quite a few cannons, at least twenty or more. Don't get into trouble here, getting hit by a shell is not worth it."

"Don't worry. I'm watching, the old 8-pound, 12-pound, and 18-pound cannons on the Spanish batteries can't reach this far," Wang Tieshuai said nonchalantly, shaking his head. "Don't worry, I won't force my way in. This time, I just want to scare these Spaniards, to show them they are not safe and are always in danger. This is also part of the total war, to undermine their fighting spirit."

As they were talking, several iron balls whistled over the bay and landed in the sea a few hundred meters in front of the left side of the Yunsheng No. 1, creating several large and small water columns. Perhaps the Spanish shore battery soldiers could no longer tolerate the arrogance of the Yunsheng No. 1, and they decided to respond with cannon fire.

"Alright, let's leave if we've had enough fun," Xiao Bai Lang raised his telescope and carefully observed, noting the positions of the Spanish batteries that had fired, then said, "The ship is carrying a lot of supplies and some army soldiers. We need to head to the Malvinas Islands first."

Wang Qian, with the authority of the Yunsheng No. 1, had sunk three Spanish coastal warships in the Big Fish River and argued forcefully at the executive committee meeting, finally obtaining authorization to mobilize two temporary army platoons. Peng Zhicheng left the meeting in protest, and the conflict between the navy and the army intensified again.

However, Xiao Bai Lang and Wang Tieshuai didn't care about that. The arguments were left to Wang Qian, while they took the credit and the glory.

The Yunsheng No. 1 turned its rudder, raised its sails, and slowly left Buenos Aires under the watchful eyes of many.

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