Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 592 The Attack (Part 3)

On January 10, 1644, the waters of Coral Bay shimmered under the early summer sun. The narrow waterway, like a winding giant python, separated the vast Pacific Ocean from the inland river network.

Valdivia Fortress, located at the confluence of the Valdivia and Cruces rivers, guards the strategic choke point of this vital waterway and land route.

For the Araucanians, who lacked ships and heavy firearms, this fortress, built relying on natural barriers, was an insurmountable chasm for generations of their people, and a thorn in the side of the Spanish colonists along their coastline.

At this moment, standing on a high ground overlooking the entire bay and the outline of the fortress on the outskirts of the fortress, Chief Kulimank and the more than five hundred fierce tribal warriors behind him no longer had the helplessness and resentment of the past burning in their eyes, but rather a blazing flame mixed with excitement and ambition.

Valdivia Castle is eerily quiet.

The watchtower, which should have been flying the Spanish royal Burgundy cross, was bare, emitting a monotonous wail in the sea breeze.

Although the main stone and wood structure of the fortress still stands, several obvious damages and charred fire marks are clearly visible on the walls facing the bay, scars left by Dutch artillery fire months ago.

There were no ships on the dock, only a few sections of burned or deliberately damaged pier remnants submerged in the murky seawater.

The entire outpost was filled with a deathly stillness, as if it had been abandoned.

“Mr. Moreno, here… are there really no Spanish soldiers here?” Kulimank’s voice trembled slightly, and he gripped the steel knife given to him by the new Chinese at his waist tightly, the veins on his wrists bulging.

Despite Moreno's assurances, seeing the fortress that had plagued Araucanese for decades laid bare before him still felt like a dream.

Moreno, draped in an alpaca wool cloak gifted by the Araukan people, remained calm, a faint smile playing on his lips: "Chief Kulimank, I assure you with the credibility of the New Continent China Republic."

"The Dutch were like a pack of robbers who broke into someone's house, looting and vandalizing. They ransacked the place, destroyed the defenses, and then, unable to stay, slunk away like stray dogs. And our Xinhua Navy..."

He licked his lips, his tone brimming with confidence: "The surrounding waters have been thoroughly 'cleared,' ensuring that no Spanish warships will appear. Now, this fortress, and the island of Chiloé to the south, are like ripe fruit, waiting for their true masters to harvest them."

He turned to the side, his gaze sweeping over the warriors behind Kulimank, their faces painted with battle camouflage, wielding spears, maces, and a few muskets, before finally settling back on Kulimank's face. He continued, his voice inflammatory: "Look, Chief Kulimank. This is the opportunity fate has given you."

“You Mapuche people, for decades countless warriors have sacrificed yourselves to reach this place, but today, under your leadership, we will reclaim it without bloodshed.”

"When your battle flag is raised on that tower, all of Chile, from the Biobío River to the Strait of Magellan, will sing the praises of your name—Kurimank, a great hero who recaptured Valdivia Fortress! This will be the highest honor, and... a symbol of power."

“A symbol of power…” Kulimank repeated in a low voice, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes completely swallowed up by his burning ambition.

He could almost see the shock on Juan Manqueant's perpetually worried and cautious face when the news reached the Union Council in Crucesburg, and how the chiefs who had once questioned his radical strategies would flock to him, expressing their awe and submission.

To unite the tribes and establish a kingdom belonging to the Mapuche people...

The beautiful picture Moreno had described to him on the road now became clearer and more alluring than ever before.

He suddenly drew his steel sword, its gleaming blade pointing directly at the fortress below the mountain. With all his might, he roared, "Warriors of Mapuche! The spirits of our ancestors are watching us. The fortress that once made us bleed and die has now opened its gates to us!"

"Now, use the weapons in your hands to breach this fortress, use your footsteps to measure our lost land, and use your voices to proclaim the return of this coastline!"

"For freedom, for glory, for the revival of the Mapuche people, follow me, Kulimank!"

"For Kulimank!"

"For Mapuche!"

"Take back our land!"

"..."

The deafening shouts echoed through the mountains and forests. More than 500 soldiers, like a flood bursting its banks, followed the chief who was leading the charge, rushing up the steep mountainside toward the fortress that symbolized Spanish colonial rule.

There were no expected muskets or cannons, no sturdy fences or deep trenches to block the way; only a deathly silence set off the Mapuche men's charge, which resembled a festive celebration.

The fortress's wooden gates were wide open and askew, as if abandoned in the haste of the last evacuees.

The soldiers poured in with ease.

The interior of the fortress was in complete disarray.

The debris left behind by the Dutch and Spanish was scattered everywhere, some houses showed signs of burning, and the air was filled with a strange smell of rotting wood, gunpowder residue, and some kind of putrid substance.

Several daring Spanish immigrants—mostly rummaging through supplies—stared in terror at the group of native warriors, then let out piercing screams and fled into the distant woods.

Upon seeing this, more than ten Mapuche warriors brandished their wooden spears and swords and excitedly gave chase.

Kuliman strode across the open space in the center of the fortress, his feet treading on broken rubble and discarded items.

He looked around, his gaze sweeping over the gun emplacements that had once fired deadly projectiles, his chest heaving violently.

He climbed to the top of the main fortress, took a huge battle flag with tribal totems from the soldier beside him, took a deep breath, and used all his strength to plant it on the crenellation at the top of the tower.

The red and black battle flag, symbolizing strength and ancestors, fluttered in the sea breeze of the Gulf of Coral, its outstretched form seemingly proclaiming a new sovereignty to the world.

"Oh...ho!" "Kurimank!"

"Kurimank!"

Below the tower, all the Mapuche warriors raised their weapons and let out a deafening cheer.

The sound waves penetrated the fortress and echoed between the mountains and the bay.

Moreno stood on the periphery of the cheering crowd, watching it all with a smile.

Kulimank stood atop the tower, arms outstretched, accepting the worship of his people, his face radiating the joy of victory and the glow of his desire for power.

Moreno knew that the seed of ambition and power had been successfully planted in the chief's heart and was quickly taking root and sprouting in the fertile "soil".

A few days later, after the fortress had been initially cleared, the messenger sent by Kulimanc returned to Crucesburg with news of the victory and a small amount of spoils of war—mainly some damaged weapons abandoned by the Spanish and Dutch and a few items that they had not had time to take. Moreno found Kulimanc, who was still immersed in great joy and excitement.

“Your Excellency Chief Kulimank, no, perhaps soon I should be addressing you as ‘Your Majesty the King’,” Moreno said with a smile, his tone respectful and infectious.

Upon hearing this, Kulimunk's eyes flashed with a sharp light, but he did not refute it. Instead, he waved his hand and said, "Mr. Moreno, my dearest friend! The recapture of this fortress proves your commitment and the immense power of our cooperation."

"Tell me, what should we do next? I can't wait to make the Spaniards pay an even heavier price!"

“That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss with you.” Moreno pulled a rough map of Chile from his satchel and spread it out on the wooden table. “You see, the recapture of Valdivia Fortress is just the first step. It’s like a broom sweeping away the Spanish colonial forces south of the Biobío River, completely eliminating your biggest threat.”

His finger moved north along the long Chilean coastline: "The Spanish have limited forces. To defend against your brave warriors, the vast majority of their troops are concentrated in the northern fortress of Concepción and the Chilean governor's office of Santiago, especially along the Biobío River, where they have built what is known as a 'military defensive line'."

"And in the vast area north of the Biobio River, all the way to Coquimbo, defenses were extremely weak because they considered it a safe 'rear area.' Many coastal towns and inland manor villages didn't even have proper walls or garrisons."

His fingers tapped out several locations along the northern coast: “For example, Cartagena, Viña del Mar, and even further north near La Serena… These places were teeming with wealth, with Spanish immigrants seizing vast tracts of land, but leaving them virtually undefended.”

Kulimank's breathing became heavy, his eyes fixed on Moreno's fingers.

“Imagine, Chief Kulimank,” Moreno’s voice was full of allure, “when you have united the strength of all the Mapuche tribes in the south, and possess an army of several thousand…”

"Our Xinhua Navy fleet will carry your most elite soldiers, heading north along the coastline, bypassing the heavily fortified Biobío River defenses of the Spanish, and appearing like ghosts before these unsuspecting 'rear' towns."

He made a clenched fist gesture: "We can easily take these towns and seize the wealth the Spanish have accumulated over decades: grain, cloth, weapons, gold and silver... Burn their estates and destroy their port facilities. Every successful raid will greatly weaken the Spanish war potential and inspire the resistance of all oppressed tribes."

“At that time, the Spanish will be in a dilemma,” Moreno continued with certainty. “If they withdraw troops from the southern defenses to reinforce the north, then your tribal warriors in the south can take the opportunity to cross the Biobío River, attack their weakened defenses, and reclaim more lost territory.”

"If they hold out in the south, their northern territories will gradually crumble under our combined attack. At that time, the foundation of Spanish rule in Chile will be completely shaken, and like a tree hollowed out by termites, it will soon collapse."

He looked at Kulimank with burning eyes: "And you, Chief Kulimank, will be the great leader who leads all of this. You have not only recovered the lost territories in the south, but also brought the war to the heart of the Spanish, seizing their most fertile land and richest mineral deposits."

"By then, who will dare to question your authority? A unified and powerful Mapuche Kingdom will rise under your leadership, encompassing a vast land from the rich north to the southern fjords. This is the true future that Xinhua has brought you!"

Upon hearing this, Kulimank's eyes widened and his breathing became rapid.

The vast northern land on the map, a symbol of wealth and power, seemed to unfold before his eyes like a magnificent scroll.

The dilapidated Spanish fortress that had just been captured was utterly insignificant compared to the grand plans Moreno had outlined.

He abruptly raised his head, his eyes now devoid of any doubt, filled only with an almost fanatical determination and greed: "Mr. Moreno, you're right. What is a little Valdivia Fortress? What we want is all of Chile, all the land and wealth occupied by the Spanish!"

He slapped the map hard: "I will immediately send people to contact all the tribes that are willing to follow me. I will show them the achievement of recapturing Valdivia Fortress, and I will persuade them with the endless wealth of the north."

"Although integrating the strength of the various tribes will take time, I believe it won't be long. Once we complete our military preparations, it will be the end for the Spanish!"

"When the time comes..." He gripped Moreno's hand tightly, so tightly that Moreno frowned slightly, but he still maintained an encouraging expression, "we will need the help of you Chinese from Xinhua, whether it is to deploy naval warships or provide the weapons needed for the operation. I hope you can fulfill the promises you have made."

"When you get back, you can tell your navy that they can come to Valdivia Fortress at any time... no, to any port controlled by us Mapuche people to dock and resupply!"

“Of course, Chief Kulimank.” Moreno nodded solemnly.

The blood of the Araucanians will become the best weapon to wear down Spain, and the land and kingdom they crave... in Xinhua's American strategy, may just be pieces on the chessboard that can be adjusted at any time.

But now, he needs this piece to charge into battle with full power.

"For our shared victory, and for your future kingdom." Moreno smiled, raising a glass that had been filled at some point.

"For our Mapuche Kingdom!" Kulimank drank it down with gusto, as if the crown was already within his grasp.

"Let's sound the horn of attack against the Spaniards together!"

Kulimanc gazed northward toward the Biobio River, his heart filled with unprecedented ambition.

At that moment, he clearly felt that an era belonging to him and to all Mapuche people seemed to be about to arrive.
-
(End of this chapter)