In the vast Rif Mountains, the Spanish Army, without even guides, naturally had no hope of finding the natives who had lived there for centuries. Then, after a torrential downpour, the mountains were mud everywhere. The Wazzan Tribe and the Rif Tribe immediately launched their long-planned ambush. The tribal warriors used the trees as cover to attack without cease, while the Spanish were mired in the mud, unable to move.
In just four days, the Spanish Army suffered more than 4,000 casualties, abandoning nearly all its cannons and baggage, yet still failed to escape the Rif Mountains. Yes, even now, more than 7,000 soldiers from Spain remained trapped in the mountains.
And reports showed that the mountain region had seen continuous rain recently. The Moroccan tribes might not even need to keep attacking; this force could simply drown or starve to death in the mountains!
Berthier glanced at the Crown Prince's gloomy expression, cursed his Spanish counterparts to himself, then said cautiously, "Your Highness, Madrid hopes we can send reinforcements...
"The Menil Legion currently attacking Gibraltar is very close to Morocco. If we use Spanish Navy transport ships, we can have them land there in only two days."
Joseph immediately shook his head. "We cannot get drawn into the war in Morocco."
He tapped the report on the table. "Spain's forces did not even inform us.
"They could originally have exploited the conflict between the northern Moroccan tribes and Marrakesh, persuaded the Moroccan Sultan to dispatch troops and first seize Meknes, Fez, and other places, cutting off the tribes' supplies. Then they would only have needed to send a few thousand men to finish things up.
"But now Carlos IV has declared war on Morocco. Sultan Suleiman will never help him deal with the northern tribes; he may even send