On the dim yellow land, three traces of tracks rolled out for hundreds of miles.
Billowing black smoke columns surged up, resembling the smoke signals used by nomads for warnings in ancient tis.
This is the land cruiser xico purchased from the United Kingdom. Although this small land cruiser can accommodate limited crew and artillery, it still possesses antimagic armor, main cannons, and secondary cannons, its combat power is not too weak.
When selling military equipnt overseas, the British rarely enforce technical restrictions. After all, they need to compete with France, Germany, and even smaller countries like Sweden and Belgium for the arms market.
Additionally, the complex gears and pipes of the land cruiser require maintenance by British chanics, and its fuel and ammunition need to be imported from the United Kingdom. The British are not at all concerned that xico might one day use the land cruiser against them.
Inside the land cruiser in the center, the great dictator was peering out through the porthole, observing the desolate scene outside.
The elderly general humbly approached him, bowed, and whispered, "Mr. President, the French wish to purchase any one of those three land cruisers from us."
"Is today April Fool’s Day?"
Porfirio frowned, a bit impatiently, "Or are those self-righteous Frenchn’s heads filled with crap, losing their ability to think clearly?"
"A land cruiser is not a firearm that you could simply scrap. Such a large target, those British chanics and instructors keep a close eye on it every day. How would we transfer it to them? Without those British, our soldiers can’t even operate this thing.
Even if the French managed to clear all these obstacles, they would probably be stopped by the British fleet as soon as they leave Veracruz Port and then sent to the bottom of the sea with a single cannon shot."
As he spoke, he turned to his trusted general: "General Gonzalez, I hope you didn’t leave your busy military affairs to co to my flagship just to tell a joke."
Gonzalez, being scolded by Porfirio, did not get angry; instead, he stepped forward, grabbed Porfirio’s hand, and made a gesture: "This is the number they offered."
Porfirio swallowed hard, "These Frenchn really are...
full of sincerity.
"But still, the idea of selling them a land cruiser is impossible."
The president was clearly tempted; he pondered for a long ti before saying, "Ultimately, the French are after the technology inside the land cruiser. So, inform the French envoy that I allow them to send technicians to visit when the British chanics are resting; they can even disguise as my personal guards to learn to drive and maintain the ’Huerias.’ The extent of their accommodation will depend on the price they’re willing to offer."
General Gonzalez nodded slightly: "Understood, I will convey your intentions to the French envoy shortly."
"Hm."
Thinking of the impending wealth, Porfirio could not help but smile again.
With this money, he could arm his "rural patrol team," greatly enhancing his personal authority. Although originally a liberal, he quickly realized that only autocracy and strong power could drive xico towards developnt.
He stepped out of the cabin onto the deck.
Behind him lay three narrow track marks and the mighty army holding high the Eagle and Snake Banner, with the dust they stirred resembling a dim yellow curtain following closely behind.
"Gonzalez, you should rember, I’ve been to Texas before."
Porfirio held onto the railings of the land cruiser, exuding spiritedness, as such a colossal entity indeed harmonized perfectly with the desert.
"Yes, Mr. President."
Gonzalez once served as a housekeeper at Porfirio’s estate in Oaxaca and, like him, had Indian ancestry.
"At that ti, I was an exiled fugitive here, with only two guards by my side, nearly swallowed by a lion until a Texas cowboy saved my life."
That was when he ard rebellion against forr president Lierdo failed, forcing him into exile.
Gonzalez whispered, "It was God’s will. Even without that cowboy, soone else would have appeared."
"Ha."
Porfirio chuckled, knowing perfectly well Texas wasn’t an abyss, and the person who saved his life was indeed a young wolf race mber. Unfortunately, this ti they would et with blades.
"Last ti I ca, I was a destitute fugitive; this ti, I co with a thousand troops, as a conqueror, as the Napoleon of the Western Hemisphere."
Gonzalez quickly praised, "Your great achievents, even Napoleon can’t compare to."
...
Compared to their president’s spiritedness, the mid-level officers, riding steeds or caravans, and those forming distinct teams apart from common soldiers were the Knight Order.
Under the blazing sun, xican foot soldiers grumbled, relying solely on their legs to march.
Braving heavy footsteps, urged and reprimanded by officers, they stepped out of their scattered formations.
The officer shouted loudly: "Buck up! The president promised us, once we conquer the Texan towns, captives will be sold as contracted slaves, their farms will be distributed to those who distinguished themselves in battle."
Most contracted slaves are whites from Europe, partly convicted criminals exiled, unable to repay debts, turning into contracted slaves.
Many are refugees from famines in Europe, who couldn’t survive locally and wanted to escape to the "golden paved" New Continent but couldn’t afford the voyage, leading them to sign indenture contracts.
Or simply trafficked, with quite the number of European traffickers, so colluding with unscrupulous local nobles, who, during disaster years, not only refuse to help starving populace, but trafficked them to gain profits.
In slave markets, the prices of white contracted slaves were far lower than black slaves, similar to Middle Ages dealings.
Because white slaves are typically not for life, freedom needs to be granted after serving a specified term.
Moreover, white slaves have stronger resistance, aren’t as tough as black slaves, can’t be unlawfully oppressed like black slaves leading to potential complaints from their native countries.
In so remote locations, things are different; white slaves there possess even lower status than blacks, with slave masters often employing loyal black overseers to handle white slaves.
Even as officers reprimand soldiers, internal murmurs arose: "Those cowardly Texans, who knows where they’ve all escaped to, did we co all this way rely to capture this deserted dustland?"
A xican soldier suddenly pointed at the sky and scread, "Is that... a giant eagle?"
In the sky, a small black dot swiftly penetrated the cloud layers, its figure revealing.
"Dragon, it’s a dragon!"
"Damn it, quickly take cover!"
"It’s the three-headed Demon Dragon!"
Like an eagle swooping on chickens, xico’s already chaotic marching troop instantly fell into a frenzy.
On the land cruiser, amid a crowd of frightened gazes, Porfirio sneered, "Ha, the dragon that the British dread is really so small, not reaching the level of Ancient Dragons at all!"
Porfirio’s composure influenced the officers.
"Mr. President, what should we do now?"
"Summon Bishop Michael, he brought a Holy Relic, dealing with a Demon Dragon is a breeze."
Porfirio stood without fear, projecting confidence, under his wide hat, his stature barely reaching 1.7 ters, still carrying a semblance of the Napoleon of Arica.
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