Chapter 459 - 502 - 510

Intel and Final Battle

"There is an old sailor's tale of a port named Einiba. It lies on the western coast. The emperor burnt it to the ground and sank an entire flotilla in the harbour. They say that if a ship anchors in the harbour for more than a night it will sink on its next voyage. Ghosts patrol the streets and whoever passes through the city will smell of burnt flesh for months and have nightmares about burning alive every night."

"Urgent news, Your Grace!" cried Tarkel as he rushed into the study.

They were in Silowas's Seaview Manor. Lorist had been lodging there for a couple of days now. A little over 20 days past the end of the rainy season, he bade his wife and concubines farewell. He finally felt released from his cage.

It was all Arriotoli's fault for being such a busybody. She wrote after the rainy season to announce he had a new daughter, named Irie. Arriotoli gave her the Dina name, of course, and told Lorist he needed to prepare a dowry for when she eventually got married.

Arriotoli's letter made Sylvia go berserk. None of the three women who were not yet pregnant wanted to lose to this outside woman, so they kept riding Lorist for a child. Daisy finally fell pregnant near the end of winter, but Sylvia and Fennazalli were still barren. With half of the 4th month passed, Lorist finally excused himself for Silowas.

Women are nothing but trouble!

How on earth did people manage harems? Sylvia wanted another son, her eldest needed a little helper for when he inherited his father's title. His concubines didn't have any thoughts on the position of heir, they just wanted a lot of children that could accompany them when they got older.

Unfortunately children weren't born from will alone and desire alone. There was an element of luck involved, and their partner had to be fertile. Once a day was fine, and twice was exciting, but three times… Well, it was still bearable for a swordsaint, but he had two concubines and a wife who each wanted three rounds a day. He couldn't refuse the child-crazed Sylvia, and if she got it, then the other had to, as well, lest he have a second rebellion on his hands. And this one would make him the envy and laughingstock of the entire continent: a rebellion over his loins rather than his throne.

Now that he was at Silowas, there were no women by his side and he felt like the skies were bluer than ever, the air was fresher and he was more energetic. Before, his legs would feel soft when he woke up to train. But these days, he felt energized whenever he got up, filled to the brim with vigor. He couldn't help but admit his ancestors in his past life were right. Lust truly was the blade that shaved one's bones. Fortunately, he managed to weather through it.

Tarkel saw Lorist half asleep on his sunbathing chair when he entered the study. Lorist was making the best use of the calm before the storm to catch up on sleep he knew he would lose once things got going. Their offensive would be launched at the end of the month when the last ships' retrofits were complete.

Senbaud led the 14 Blitz-class warships back to sea when the rainy season ended. He didn't come across any enemy ships, however. Even smugglers were few and far in between. The whole stretch from Hidegold Bay to the Golden Coast was deserted. Something was obviously off. Senbaud took the risk to barge into Hidegold Bay only to be pushed back by the fourth flotilla. Tarkel sent a few agents to the bay, but he didn't hear back from them once they left. Not a peep.

"Well..." Lorist mumbled as he sat up, "What's going on? Do we have word from the bay?"

"Nothing. Our informants in Jigda sent word. Invincible's first flotilla and 50 thousand of the kingdom's forces are headed to Chikdor's dominion. They'll join up with the second flotilla and escort a massive convoy to the bay. From there they are set to move on Silowas."

"The reports are trustworthy?"

If the reports were right, then everything made sense. The Union's fleet was going all out and. They were no doubt betting everything on this convoy and wouldn't let it go easily. Jigda was also quite clearly completely in bed with the Union if there was any doubt. This also confirmed that the Union was not going to surrender. They had to be crushed completely.

"The reports are trustworthy, Your Grace. My agents are disguised as vets. There is no suspicion about them at all so there's no chance they were fed false information to fool us. They've also learned that the Jigda forces being sent with the fleet is the duke's most elite legion, the Firebirds. They bribed a captain to let them go along to Chikdor. They've confirmed everything in their report with their own eyes.

"Their original plan was to sail to Morante before heading to one of our hubs to report, but they ran into Tok along the way and were brought here. The two flotillas will set sail from Chikdor's harbours on the 10th of the 5th, they have to restock first. We expect at least 800 ships."

Lorist caught his breath. The entire fleet must be at least around 1300. That was nearly a hundred ships for every ship he had.

"They cannot reach the bay!" Lorist exclaimed.

If such a convoy's supplies were to reach the front-line, they would lose the plains within the month. They might even wipe Auguslo out completely, which would leave the path into the kingdom open and no one left to stand against them.

"Jinolio, gather everyone! Also, get me 100 gold Fordes."

Jinolio soon returned with five heavy pouches.

"Tarkel, give this to your agents. Tell them I'm giving this to them personally as thanks for their hard work."

"Understood, Your Grace," Tarkel bowed.

"Alright. Come back quickly. I need you in the meeting as well," said Lorist with a wave before he started brainstorming in front of the massive map of the continent.

The meeting started right after lunch. Every captain in the fleet was present. Tarkel brought them up to speed. The room burst into a roar the moment he finished. Everyone was shocked. Even if Northsea had superior ranged combat abilities, they didn't have the ammunition to sink 1300 ships, nevermind win in a fight.

The more extreme insisted they use the sea-wolf tactic. As long as there were enough ants, even an elephant could be bitten to death. The problem was that only the 14 Blitz-class warships could execute that tactic. Other ships weren't fast enough, if they got into a fight, they were committed.

Some conservatives suggested they withdraw and fortify Silowas instead. If they could put cannons on forts along the coast and draw the enemy fleet in, they stood a chance. If need be, they could draw the fight onto the island itself while the Blitzes whittled the enemy down from the sea.

Lorist slapped the table.

"That won't work! Yes, we can win against Invincible if we fight on Silowas, but then we'll lose the war, regardless. If that convoy reaches the bay, it won't matter whether we win against the fleet or not. The supplies and reinforcements will bolster the Union and we'll lose on land. They'll wipe out the king and his forces and take the entire kingdom!

"We have to sink the convoy, or at least force them to turn around. If we have to sacrifice Northsea, then that's what we have to do. We can rebuild the fleet, but we can't hold on to our lands if we lose the kingdom.

"Yes, we will face an unprecedented force. But don't forget that 800 of the fleet are just transports. We can ignore them mostly and focus on the escorts. Four hundred is still a lot, but it's manageable. Remember that by the time we face them, we'll have another 500 cannons."

Lorist was right. Apart from the 300 cannons Sid had made for the fleet the artillery brigade's cannons had also been requisitioned.

"Today's the 24th of the 4th. The convoy sets sail on the 10th of the 5th. We won't allow them to reach the bay. Senbaud, take our Blitzes to Chikdor. You're to harass them the moment they leave port. Don't stop until you run out of ammunition."

"We can't, Your Grace. We can at most be at sea for 20 days before our supplies run out, and it takes 17 just to get to Chikdor and we have no way to resupply along the way. We can't even manage a round trip."

"Then build supply points along the way. We can use Einiba. I'll send the whaling ships and 60 of our medium ships. We'll turn Einiba into our forward supply base."

"It's too dangerous. What if the fourth flotilla notices and attacks?" Senbaud asked.

"No worries. I've had Uncle Torin bring 40 ships to Silowas. He can keep the fourth flotilla busy. We don't have much time. We have to move quickly to turn this around! Alright, dismissed. Make your preparations, we depart in two days!"

"Yes, Your Grace!"

Captain Woodleis's Worries

Thunderous booms echoed across the waves. Captain Woodleis had heard it came from Norton cannon fire. He could only hear the cries and screams of terror around him. When he realized the nearby ships were still intact condition and maintained their formation, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Mermaid's Song, his LLDAM was his pride and joy; it could carry 5 tons of goods. The hard fight and sacrifice of three generations of his family, his grandfather, father, and now himself, had culminated in Mermaid's Song. She was his kingdom, and he was king. He had no interest in putting his ship on the line in someone else's war, but he had no choice. When one of the big-six demanded something, no one dared not give it. And so, he was now in the midst of a warzone, sailing with over a thousand other ships in what must be the biggest naval convoy in history, listening to ships exploding and people dying all around while he prayed he and his ship didn't become one of them.

When he first got the order, he quickly made inquiries with his connections and learned why they were mobilizing so many ships so forcefully. Invincible was fighting with Northsea and they'd lost badly. Port Einiba had also been torched.

Northsea had also captured almost every ship that sailed the surrounding waters for the whole season. Among them were ships and captain Woodleis knew, a few could even be counted as friends. Eima, Dragonfly, Molinmodren were just three that had been captured. He even heard rumours that Northsea's ships could spew fire and decimate ships from unheard of distances. One connection told him it had something to do with the dwarves and their gunpowder and cannons.

The Union was utterly reliant on the sea to keep their soldiers on the plains supplied and reinforced, they could not afford to lose the sea. But that's what had happened for the last four months. They were desperate, and this convoy was their last answer, their last hope. This was their life line, not just for their war on land, but for their war on the sea as well. They desperately needed to resupply their armies, but they also needed to boost their navy's morale. They had to win a victory, and one that didn't cost them half their deployed ships.

Captain Woodleis was one of the people they were trying to reassure. He suspected this voyage was not going to be peaceful, and, indeed, it wasn't. The danger began even before they'd left port. He was woken the night before they were scheduled to set sail by explosions. Northsea had attacked the bay where the convoy was anchored.

He couldn't be more thankful that his ship was anchored the furthest away from the bay's entrance. Smoke was blotting out the stars by the time he got onto the balcony and he could see the glow on the horizon from the burning ships. It might well have become a second Einiba had the fleet's Swifts not taken immediate action and chased their attackers away. He thought of that glow every time he went to bed.

The attack delayed their departure by a week while the bay's entrance was cleared of the burning wrecks. The men who saw the attack were forbidden to talk about it, but the grapevine could not be silenced. The fleet had apparently suffered heavy losses in the initial attack and during the chase that followed. They lost 50 medium supply ships and 20 Daws and 30 Swifts. The Nortons, on the other hand, didn't even suffer a single injury or a chip on their boats.

It seemed the flotilla's commanders finally realised they weren't up against mere pirates, because they issued a new voyage plan the day before departure. Instead of sailing straight across the open sea to Hidegold Bay, they would not hug the coast all the way. This upped the travel time from 21 days to over 40.

It was almost funny that the biggest fleet in history had to sneak along the coast like a small smuggler ship, but Woodleis knew this was the best option. The coast would force their enemy to attack from a predictable direction and kept them from being surrounded. Normally this would also mean that the ships would be cornered and could not escape, but the fleet's size made that a moot concern.

The escort's main concern wasn't defeating Northsea, at least not for now. They had to keep the convoy safe until they reached Hidegold Bay. They would focus on escort duty until then and only bother with a full on confrontation once they reached the bay. The coast meant that the relatively smaller escort could better protect the convoy since they only had to defend one side, and it also meant that any damaged transports could beach themselves and save their cargo.

"This is the third time, huh?" mused Woodleis as he listened to the distant booms.

The coast was safer, but they weren't sailing fast enough for his taste. They were indeed crawling along. They'd been at sea for 21 days and they weren't even halfway yet. The first attack was the one in the bay. The second came fourteen days into their journey. It lasted three days. He suspected the enemy only withdrew because they ran out of either shells or gunpowder. Their escorts were quite a bit fewer when they returned. He couldn't be sure, but they certainly hadn't lost any less than 50, 70 was more likely.

After that attack, ten sailors were moved onto Mermaid's Song. Woodleis was told it was to protect the ship in case the enemy broke through, but everyone knew they were rescued from the sunken ships and the escort didn't have space for them. He had his quartermaster and a few midshipmen make merry with them for a few days, after which they let slip a few details of the battle.

The enemy admiral was very cunning, it seemed. He only had fourteen ships, but he sank numerous ships. He skilfully kept his fleet at their maximum range and peppered the escorts from there. If the escorts turned to pursue them, he'd run away and keep peppering the enemy as he withdrew. The escorts couldn't just keep chasing the detachment either, they had to stay close to the fleet. When they turned around to return to the fleet, the enemy admiral would also turn around and start peppering them again. The escort fleet had tried a couple of times to set a few traps for their harassers, but they never fell for them.

Woodleis also learned a bit about the ships attacking them. They were very powerful. Their cannons could do significant damage all the way up to what seemed to be their maximum effective range, about 300 meters. They fired iron balls about the size of a big fist which shredded through hull, deck, and mast alike.

The most talkative of the bunch was a man named Shira. He seemed very happy to babble about the enemy when alcohol lubed his lips. Woodleis didn't know how he'd gotten by without being whipped regularly all this time, the fleet didn't like babblers.

"So we really can't sink just a few enemy ships with our entire fleet? Surely their cannons can't sink our entire fleet before we've surrounded and closed in on them!" complained Woodleis.

Shira burped, "Y-you... you don' un'ershtan. Northshea iz really hard'o catchch. They shail much fashter an'r much more agile than'r warshipsh. If we chashe'em, they'll draw ush out to shea and shink ush'ere. We shent thiry shipsh af'er 'em onshe an' ony three came back.

"Initially, our rammersh poshed a huge threat'o 'em. The.. the lash'ime... we managed'o chashe 'em away with'ose little rammers lasht time... But recently, they come with a cruel countermeas-sure. You know norm'l met'l cannonballs're about the diameter'f a bowl, right? Hic B-but they've an ev'n small'r one... pelletsh ab't the shize of a fing'rtip... Eash shot they fire'll launch a hun'r'd an' they'll spread all ov'r...

"'Fore this, they'd ushe thoshe larg'r cannonballs'o fire a'the ramm'rsh a'miss seven ou'of ten. Now they've switched'o these pelletsh, they le'the ramm'rsh ge'closhe an' fire when they're 60 met'rsh away. The poor bast'rdsh jus'vanish..."

Woodleis cursed his curiosity from that day onwards. Every night he'd wake up in a cold sweat. Dreaming of his ship being torn to shreds, and watching his crew crawling into his cabin, half shredded, cursing at him for bringing them to their deaths.

He decided he'd escape the moment he got the chance. He'd wait for the escorts near him to chase after the Nortons and make a break for it. If he ran into the Nortons, he'd wave the white flag and plead for his ship. He was fine with having to spend some time under scrutiny if he could just keep his ship and crew. It wasn't like he really had a side in the war. He just wanted to keep trading.

The next attack started a week after the previous one. They definitely had a supply base nearby, no way they could get to Silowas, resupply, and return in just seven days. He didn't even want to think about the other possibility, which was that these weren't the same ships, and that they actually have a massive fleet waiting for them somewhere up ahead.

He didn't care who won the battle, he just wanted to make it out alive with his ship intact. He stroked the white flax cloth in his hands as the cannons boomed in the background. He carried the white flag with him all the time lately.

Confident of Victory

"The army too confident in its victory, will lose the hardest."

"Cape Romani. Also, the end of the Tedanini mountains. We can't hug the coast anymore. The reed ahead forces us to head out to sea. Once we're past the cape, it' just another three days to Einiba, then three more to Hidegold Bay.

"Unfortunately House Norton is waiting for us on the waters just off the cape. It seems they plan to stop us here or sink trying. We should thank Captain Bluden for risking his ship to bring us this intel. If he hadn't charged after the detachment after their last attack, we'd be sailing into their ambush blindly.

"He says the Nortons have deployed sixteen massive ships at least double our biggest Daw, but not as big as our Sabnim-class. They also have a hundred Daws and forty Sams on patrol. The twelve ships that've been harassing us are keeping an eye on our flank, sandwiching us to between them and the reef."

Lord Admiral, Viscount Penelope, tapped the map with his wooden pointer as he explained. His cabin on board the fleet's flagship was packed with the fleet's commodores and rear-admirals. The atmosphere was tense.

Penelope couldn't help but sigh. How many times already had he seen these faces? How many times had these commanders been ferried over by row-boat to his ship to sit in on the latest casualty report? When they first got together to get the announcement about this trip, they almost literally fought one another for a spot on the escort fleet. They only calmed down when they heard they were all going. Now they didn't even have the energy to frown or get angry when they heard how many ships were sunk and how many had died in the latest attack.

Then again, it would have been more surprising if they weren't like this now. They'd suffered four attacks and four pursuits; they'd lost 200 ships as a result. Most were rammers and Saws, but the enemy only had fourteen ships and they couldn't even scratch them. They couldn't even console themselves that their losses were suffered chasing off the enemy. The Nortons only left once they ran out of munitions, not because they were chased off.

Everyone's noses had been red with pride when the two flotillas met up, the two sides betting and having fights over who would get the most kills and the most glory, and laughing at the third and fourth flotillas' incompetence. They were all technically part of the same fleet, but each flotilla was backed by a different guild and crewed mainly by people from that guild, so competition was fierce and there was very little love lost between the four flotillas.

Twinhead Dragon backed the first flotilla, the second and third belonged to Chikdor, and the fourth was shared between the other five, now four, guilds.

While the first three were quite competitive against one another, it was all mostly just spirited banter and competition, but they all looked down on the fourth. It was the bastard child no one liked. Despite that, while it was in the worst shape of the three still standing, it still stood, whilst the third didn't exist anymore, so everyone mocked and insulted it ruthlessly. If the fourth could cause some damage to the Nortons, then the first and second could surely wipe them out completely.

The fourth had warned that the Nortons had very powerful ranged attacks, but because it was the fourth, the first and second didn't take it seriously. And even if what they said was true, the enemy only had a few left, what could they do against hundreds of ships all charging at them at once?

Their tune had changed now, however. These meeting were usually very boisterous, and it was hard to get everyone to settle down so the meeting could start, but now no one spoke. Everyone just sat quietly and waited for their admiral to start. When they first came together back in Chikdor's domain they didn't really do much planning. They just boasted about how many kills they'd get and betted on how quickly they'd take Silowas. Now, they sat quietly and waited to be told the latest bad news.

The first attack had shown them the enemy could be thorny, but they had still been very confident, especially when their response chased the attackers away, even if the losses were quite a bit more than expected. The subsequent attacks, however, shook them completely. They'd sailed for almost a month and had been attacked four times, but had not inflicted a single casualty on their enemy. They hadn't even caused a single gold Forde's damage to the ships' paint. They'd tried to take the initiative by setting a number of traps which they hoped the enemy commander would take in his arrogance and lack of understanding, but he didn't take the bait.

They'd thought they could swarm the Nortons with their rammers, but the enemy quickly identified and exploited the small ships' weakness. In order to maximise their boarding contingent, the ships didn't have any ranged weaponry or archers, so the Norton ships would just sit and wait for them to get close then shower them with volley after volley of small pellets pact like grapes into their cannons' barrels.

A single full broadside from one of those ships could make several rammers just disintegrate. It was like blowing a dandelion, everything was there the one moment, and gone the next. When the third attack came, the rammers refused to sail at all. Even the punishment for insubordination wasn't as bad as the fate of those that sailed against the Nortons' black ships.

And this came from men who crewed rammers. They were already the bravest in the fleet. If even they refused to face the enemy, how bad would it be if the rest of the fleet was to sail against the enemy once or twice? Rather than spend their time before each battle sharpening their swords and polishing their armor, the men on board the ships spent their time checking that they had enough rations to spend several days floating at sea, that the straps on either armor would come loose quickly enough so they wouldn't be dragged won and drown, and making sure which direction the coast was. They weren't men preparing for battle, but men preparing to abandon ship!

Once his briefing was finished, Penelope waited for his captains and rear-admirals to give their input, but even several minutes later they had yet to show even the tiniest hint of getting involved.

"Am I shouting at corpses?!" he barked, slamming his pointer into pieces on the desk, "Did someone cut off your balls last night? Or did they take your tongue instead? If you don't get your act together, I'll kill you myself and use your corpse as ammunition when we face Northsea! Are you captains and admirals of Invincible or pirates?"

His rage finally lit the last embers of pride left in the men's hearts. Their faces slowly regained color, and they stood up, hands on their hearts.

"If they want to kill us, we'll drag them down with us! No, we'll send them on their way alone!"

"I'll take the vanguard! I want the first kill!"

"I will sink five ships before I let mine drink water!"

"Let us fight, Admiral! We will not let those bastards sail on our waters any longer! Cannons? What cannons? They are no match for our courage!"

The cheers suddenly stopped, leaving the man who spoke last flailing his arm in the air in the silent room awkwardly. The mention of the enemy's cannon was like a bucket of cold water. It immediately sobered up everyone drunk on their own pride.

The man lowered his arms, coughed once and walked over to Penelope with a warm smile. THe captains wanted to ridicule him for bringing up their bane, but they couldn't. He was Chikdor's young master, Serihanem, and currently the read-admiral in command of Chikdor's fleet.

"Young Master, do you have any basis for your claims?" one captain asked, having finally scrounged up the courage.

"Yes. You will find out soon enough. They attacked us several times now. In total they've sunk 129 Swifts, 86 Saws, 13 Sams, and 15 Daws. See the pattern? They're sinking mostly small ships. Yes, part of it is because we've sent mostly small ships at them, but the bigger ships we did send out lost a much smaller proportion than the small ones, and many returned with damage from the engagements. This means they can take a few hits and still keep going.

"We lost seven Daws in the first attack, two of which sank because they caught fire, not because they were blown apart by cannon fire. We sent out a lot more Daws in the later attacks and they were only sunk after taking a heavy beating.

"Wingsoar, one of my ships, took several hours of beating and is still afloat. I also noticed something when I inspect the damage on some of the ships. One shot pierced through the ship's hull near the supply deck. It shot through the hull and into our stash of flour. It burned's heat scorched some of the flour, but besides that and the hole in the hull it did no damage.

"We tried something out when we sent Wingsoar after them after that last attack. We packed our stores against the hull to absorb more of the shock. As you know, Wingsoar made it out. We counted forty cannonballs when we checked the ship after it returned."

The meeting room erupted into cheers. If Serihanem wasn't lying, they now had an effective way to fight back. If they packed their supplies, especially their sacks of grain and flour against their hulls, they could ignore the fire and just charge right at the enemy ships. They would still suffer heavy casualties and lose many ships, but this gave them a much better chance. Seeing the atmosphere finally becoming rowdy again Penelope smiled and thanked the young master sincerely.

"House Norton won't think of this so they won't expect us to last this long or do what we're going to do. We now have a way to blast them to smithereens!"

Serihanem bowed at everyone's thanks.

"The Nortons are expecting a big fight, what will we do?" asked Penelope.

"Give it to them! Smash them to bits! Victory to Invincible!" roared the rest of the room.

Penelope nodded and tapped on the map with a splinter of his wooden pointer.

"They're planning to stop or sink our whole fleet in this fight. But we won't let that happen. We have three hundred ships, and all four our Sabnims. Chikdor has another 100 ships. We outnumber them and now have a counter for their cannons. We'll send them to the bottom of the sea! Victory is ours!"

Decisive Naval Battle

"Never underestimate your enemy. No tactic, however brilliant, will work if you cannot predict the enemy's response.

The waves roiled non-stop from all around. Lorist stood tall on the deck of his whaling boat, copper telescope in hand. He gazed at the shapes on the horizon. His lips crept into a smile.

"They still haven't had enough of Senbaud's beating. As expected of Invincible. I thought they would attack at night to avoid being shot at by the cannons. I didn't think they would actually come out to fight in the middle of the day. I don't know if they're brave or desperate. I shouldn't complain though; I like enemies better this way."

It was the 7th of the 6th. Dawn was fading, and the sun shone brightly -- a perfect day for barbeque. If only he hadn't stood watch the whole night. He fell asleep just before dawn and missed the most beautiful time of the day. Jinolio woke him shortly after it passed, informing him that the enemy had just come into sight.

He couldn't understand why they didn't attack at night. His cannons wouldn't be nearly as accurate then. They hadn't moved an inch the whole night and now they were charging with the sun to just above the horizon to the east.

"I doubt this is just a probe..." said he.

Wasn't the enemy commander being too foolish? They were charging right into what they had to know was a killzone. This wasn't bravery, it was suicide. The sea forced captains to be offensive, but one could be smart.

The 16 whaling ships lined up port broadside to the enemy. The wind blew along the line and tried to force them out of formation, so they had to drop anchor to stay in position. This also meant they couldn't run if things somehow went badly. It was do or die. This battle would decide everything. Lorist was confident though.

Ten windows opened on the first deck below on each ship. Each ship had ten to a side. It was nothing to smirk at, but it was just barely over half the complement of each Blitz, which had 18 to a side.

Sid had been busy the whole winter. He toiled day and night to retrofit the fleet. All in all the fleet was now 320 cannons stronger than before the retrofit. Half sat on these 16 whaling ships. The rest were put on Daws. Each ship only got four, so Lorist put the artillery regiment on them to make up for the shortfall. It added ten cannons to each ship on the top deck. They weren't limited to being 5 to a side though. The artillery regiment's cannons, being designed for land-based use, were wheeled, so they could be moved from one side to the other, making them far more powerful than their numbers suggested. The 40 surplus cannons were fitted on Saws; each got one on its nose with which to chase down fleeing enemies and take on the enemy's rammers.

Josk and Jinolio stood by Lorist's side. Reidy and Shuss were assigned to the two whaling ships at the end of the line. The three contingents could quickly respond to any enemy blademasters that attack anywhere on the line. Josk and Ovidis were the only men he'd brought with him from the legions.

Josk had disobeyed orders and should be in Wild Husbandry as punishment, but he was one of Lorist's most trusted subordinates and friends. It was tough on Freiyar to exercize authority over the man so close to his lord and who was the legion's father, so Lorist took this opportunity to give him a break. He could also use Josk's power and accuracy to incapacitate enemy ships as he had done all those years ago.

Ovidis was there to do what he did best -- fire catapults. Despite having ten cannons a piece, the whaling ships still felt under-armed, so Lorist fitted them with twenty catapults each. He could probably fit more carroballistae, but they weren't effective against big hulking masses of wood. And it never hurt to have more weaponry to take care of ships that got too close.

A horn echoed from above their heads; the lookout.

"Enemies spotted. 60 Daws in the front, those behind unknown. At least four hundred in total. Four Sabnims in their midst as well. 500 marks and closing!"

A kilometer. It wouldn't take long for them to arrive. The enemy had the one thing in their advantage that counted most for their tactic -- the wind. It had shifted in the last couple of minutes and now blew at their backs, giving them the maximum speed they could get.

"Tell Senbaud to flank them with the Blitzes. Keep them from going around the line. Push them into our killzone! Do they really think they can run us over with shear numbers?!"

Jinolio sent the order up to the crow's nest. The lookout blared a series of short, sharp horn blasts and started waving his signal flags. Soon the signals fluttered down the line to the two fringes where Senbaud's contingents sat, waiting. A few minutes later the flags fluttered his acknowledgment back and a number of black dots began pulling away from the formation, heading towards the enemy in a wide arc. Cannonfire soon followed.

Their ships were very close to the enemy formation, probably just 200 meters, making maximum use of their power. The ships left white snakes in their wakes which the wind carried over to the line of whaling ships. Their fire seemed to have no effect though. Two more volleys only made two Daws slow slightly, the rest continued on as if nothing was happening.

"200 marks and closing," the lookout reported.

Lorist focused on one of the struck ships and noticed white powder leaking out of the holes in its hull. When he checked the deck, he saw sacks stacked all along the outside of the deck.

"Smart little bastards..."

No wonder they'd yet to sink a single ship. If the enemy thought this was enough to turn the tide, they were sorely mistaken. Lorist would teach the entire continent what it meant to charge his fleet today.

"Fire the first volley when they're 300 meters away and switch to chain shot. Hit their masts and sails!"

The flags waved again, all the way down the line.

There was no point in switching to chain shot now. It would take them longer to reload than to fire and then load again. They could not afford to waste any firing time.

"Hundred and fifty marks and closing!"

The lookout's voice was drowned out by cannonfire. Every ship up and down the line shuddered as they spewed fire and smoke. It blinded everyone for a few dozen seconds, but the steady breeze pushed it over the decks and out of the way, revealing the enemy.

The largest barrage in history had just been fired, but to little effect. He could see the ripples of several hundred shots in the water -- two hundred had fallen short. Only the closest two Daws shook as dozens of holes popped into existence in their hulls. They lost direction, sliding to one side and slowly started to list.

Can't be helped, I suppose, Lorist sighed, The boys only have a few months of experience. How unlucky.

Five hundred cannonballs sank just two ships. Very disappointing.

"Fire!" Howard roared on his ship.

Everyone covered their ears, but they were still momentarily deafened but the roar. The ship shuddered. Their hearing recovered just in time to hear the last echoes of the low whistle as the cannonballs disappeared towards the enemy formation.

The 60 closest enemy ships lost their masts instantly. And started slowing down. The ships behind swerved violently to avoid running into them, some didn't make it and crashed into those in front. The enemy formation came to a halt just 200 meters from the line.

A copper whistle pierced the chaos. Dozens echoed down the line. The order to hold fire. Lorist didn't want to waste cannon ammunition. This was why he'd brought the catapults, after all.

"Fire!" cried Ovidis.

Wood and rope creaked up and down the line as hundreds of boulders arced through the sky. These boulders were different from those used on land. Those used on land were round so they could bounce better, but here they only hit or missed, they could not bounce off the water's surface. So they were as jagged as they could be found to cause as much damage as possible, even with glancing blows.

The first volley was very inaccurate, but that was to be expected; they were, after all, mostly range finding shots. A few quick adjustments later, the second volley was unleashed. This time the boulders were covered in a flax net, soaked in animal fat, oil, or tar, and set alight. The mixture was a nightmare to put out. Pouring water on it only made it spread faster.

The nearest several dozen Daws caught fire immediately. Every now and again one or two people would jump off, some covered in flames. The fire quickly spread to the ships that had crashed into their rear, hoping over using the fallen masts, or through sparks jumping to the sails. Those not on fire yet, though many were mastless, continued to drift towards the line on their own momentum.

A series of booms echoed from the flanks and small explosions of splinters racked the ships to the side, most of the rest losing their masts as well. The enemy was now completely caught. They couldn't sail forward since that way was blocked by burning and sinking ships, they couldn't sail sideways since they were constantly being peppered by Senbaud's ships, and their formation was too tight to turn around easily. Even if they did, the wind would be blowing against them. They could make a slow dash for the horizon, but no one expected them to make it.

An easy win. Lorist smiled.

Smoke rose into the skies and obscured the rest of the fleet, but the enemy could not use it. Senbaud would not let them.

"Enemies, 70 marks!" roared the lookout.

"What?" Lorist gasped.

"They're pushing the burning wrecks!"

"Ovidis! Switch fire to just behind the wrecks! Keep the rocks flying!"

A mistake, a big mistake. He never thought the enemy would use their own casualties against him.

"Danger!" cried Jinolio as he leapt over.

Lorist looked into the sky and saw thousands of glints descending on the ships.

This week's quiz question is: "Who saved Balor during his childhood confrontation with the necromancer?"

Those who answer correctly will get to read a chapter ahead of their current tier for all of next week! Remember to send your answers along with your patreon name to ts2_answers@outlook.com.

Suicide Charge

"The point of war is not to die for your country, but to make the other fucker die for his. So if you have no chance of survival, if you are certain to die, make sure you take ten of those devils with you!" ~ Serhinem

"Why are you panicking?!" Lorist cried as he drew his sword and shielded Jinolio.

Clang! Clang! Clang! He parried more than ten arrows instantly. Cries of pain rang out all over the rest of his ship. The empty deck had been covered in arrows. The unshielded artillerymen and catapult operators had nowhere to hide and a third now lay dead and dying.

Damn it! Lorist's heart sunk.

Most of his men wore a layer of waterbeast leather that improved buoyancy instead of the usual armor. He trusted in his cannons and thought the enemy would be exterminated long before they had a chance to get into range to use their own weapons. His men were now paying for his shortsightedness.

He didn't think Invincible would drag them down with them. They ignored the fact that the 60 plus ships ahead of them had been immobilized and destroyed by the chain shot and flaming rocks. They didn't retreat. Instead, they charged right through their own wrecks. Now they were within range of their own weapons and were beginning to reap his men's lives.

The rain didn't stop.

Lorist never imagined this would happen. His men were cowering wherever they could, not one of his weapons was returning fire. Only the Invincible fleet could pull this off. They shot one ship at a time, when one had to reload, another took over, making sure that the arrows never stopped falling on their enemies. If only he'd kept a few ballistae he could have returned fire. He couldn't sink ships with them, but they could keep the enemy suppressed while the rest of his weaponry did that job.

"Sixty marks and -- agh!"

The crew soon plopped down, its nest empty.

Lorist jumped off the deck.

"Joe, protect Jinolio."

He rushed to one of the catapults, grabbing its leaver and trying to reset it. Ovidis rushed over.

"Let me do it, Your Grace."

Lorist drew his sword again and started parrying the incoming arrows.

"Get a few sacks of gunpowder from the cabin! Have the cannons fire again!"

Ovidis rushed into the cabin despite the rain. Soon, the bronze booming sounded again. They couldn't sink the firing ships easily, but the ones already on fire were a different matter. They were half-sunk already. As the flames faded away, the breeze unveiled the enemy. They were on half-sail. A few rows behind them came the Sabnims. Their decks teemed with archers.

Lorist kicked the lever, and a rock flew.

"Load the catapult with gunpowder and get me oiled rope! Cut off half and ignite it, quick!" shouted Lorist to Ovidis, who was coming out of the cabin with a few sacks of gunpowder.

Ovidis cut half a piece of oiled rope with his sword just as a flaming arrow landed by his feet, setting the rope on fire. Lorist pulled the lever again, and the catapult sent the bag flying.

It quickly turned into a tiny dot. A bright flash exploded just as it was about to hit the deck. The arches in the vicinity vanished.

"Quick, keep firing like that!"

Ovidis jumped in front of Lorist.

"Let us do it. Take back command."

The surviving sailors heeded the call and soon the second bag of gunpowder flew. There were enough uninjured crew to man seven catapults. Lorist had one run back and forth below decks ferrying bags of gunpowder for the rest to fire. Lorist and Ovidis focused on parrying the arrows.

After a flurry of flinging and explosions, the rain stopped. The charging wedge was reduced to a V, but they kept charging. The cannon-equipped ships continued to fire nonstop, with barely any effect. Mainly because the flaming ships shielded the rest. They weren't the usual, flimsy merchant ships. They were ablaze, but they just refused to sink.

...

Penelope hid his head in shame. He had fought a hundred battles, but he didn't have his men's bravery. When the 60 Daws lost their masts, collided with the second row, and were being assailed by catapults, he panicked. His first thought was to retreat. He did it in the name of preserving the fleet, but deep down he knew it was just to save his life. It didn't help that no one questioned his order. They'd finally found a countermeasure to the enemy, but these were losses they'd never suffered, and now they were using catapults as well? Was everything with the Norton name behind it destined to be more impressive than anything anyone else had? Even their catapults were better than what his side had.

"We can't retreat!" called a determined voice just as Penelope announced the order.

Serihanem stood out in the crucial moment and changed everyone's minds. They decided to fight the Norton bastards to the death even if they only bloodied their nose. It wasn't like they would ever get such a chance again. The Nortons were bastards, but they weren't stupid. They'd have a new tactic or technology next time and things would only get worse. This was their one and only chance.

"We have a chance at victory as well!" Serihanem shouted.

He'd predicted this would happen to the vanguard, so he'd kept their corsairs back. If they could charge through and make it to the enemy ships, they still had all their close quarters strength intact and could wipe the enemy out.

Everyone cheered and their resolve returned. The enemy's painful wails shortly after only bolstered their resolve. Not long after, however, the enemy retaliated. A bag with a flaming rope soared over the burning ships and exploded right above their decks.

"What the hell?!"

"Forget about it!" Serihanem shouted, "Forget about everything! Just charge forward!"

The horns blared. The men shouted. The ships charged. Everyone ignored the intermittent explosions, the smell of burnt flesh, and the cries of their friends and comrades.

The enemy cannons fired incessantly. The ships shook with every boom. But no one cared anymore. They saw only the devils in front of them and heard only their own desire to kill.

...

A man-sized rock bounced on the deck next to Lorist. The man only glanced at it momentarily before turning back to the enemy ships barrelling towards them.

"Quick, prepare the chain shot!" instructed Howard impatiently.

Only four of the ten cannons on the deck were still manned. The rest were abandoned, their crew laying dead or dying somewhere nearby.

"We're out!" yelled an artilleryman.

Howard watched the enemy ships close in.

"Prepare the scatter shot, then! Get a sword or spear for each of you as well! Prepare to repel boarders!"

His words had barely left his mouth when a massive explosion wracked the ship to his left. His eye settled on it just in time to see one of the wheeled cannons splash into the water in front of the ship.

"Fuck them! What the hell are they doing?!" he roared.

Someone must have dropped a match onto the store, or they'd used too much gunpowder and blew up the cannon.

The enemy's cheers drifted on the breeze soon after. The enemy's weapon glints were starting to break through the smoke as they closed in. Each rammer had 24 rowers, twelve to a side, and they pulled with all their might.

"Rammers! Lower the cannons! Fire the scatter shot!"

All the artillerymen were familiar with these rammers. Scatter shot was the most effect. So everyone was ready with it. Unfortunately they were already too close. The shot didn't have time to spread out enough, so they couldn't hit multiple ships with one shot. Only thirty of the incoming 100 were hit.

A few seconds later the first rammers made contact. Grappling hooks soon sunk their teeth into the railings, and enemy corsairs started pouring onto the decks. Soon booming cannons were replaced with clanging swords.

Lorist's gaze settled on a Sabnim nearby. It was ramming into a whaling ship a bit down the line. The ship creaked and started to split in half. It held, only to be swarmed by enemy corsairs like ants swarming a carcass.

The crews still with their cannons turned them on the boarding enemies and turned them into a paste, but the rest just kept charging.

Lorist's gaze froze. "Jinolio!"

"Yes!"

"Order the Saws on the right flank to move in! Form a secondary firing line on the flank and splinter the enemy ships! Bring the guards in the cabin out as well! I'm going to clean up the mess!"

"Yes!"

Messed Up Victory

"Reputation is half the battle." ~ Duke Fisablen

Lorist was very frustrated. The overall battle was going as planned, but everything smaller than the broadest direction was completely messed up. This was his second lesson at sea, a second failure to be properly cautious of his enemy. He'd underestimated his enemy's resolve to kill him and his men.

There were no fools in the game. He had thought he could conquer the whole battlefield by using anachronistic bronze cannons, but the enemy used such a simple method to counteract him. He couldn't forget this lesson, lest he suffer an even worse one in the future.

Half a head wearing a black bandana rose from the railings. The first boarder. The whaling ships weren't very small or low in the water, so his arms had to be tired from the climb. The moment an artilleryman spotted him, he cried and hurriedly picked up the pike. An arrow dug into the head before the artilleryman could strike. The head vanished without a sound.

Lorist looked and saw Josk in the crow's nest. He held his green bow… truly domineering. Not only did he kill every boarder the moment their heads appeared, he even took care of the sailors climbing up the neighbouring ships. The enemy corsairs were nailed to the hull like sausages on toothpicks.

His display attracted the enemy's attention quickly. A dozen archers fortunate enough to survive the last barrage drew their bows and aimed. Josk, however, didn't dodge. He merely grabbed a few and shot them back.

"Howard! We're about to get into CQC. We'll deal with the boarders, you focus on the Sabnim just in front! Keep the rest from getting on board!" Lorist yelled.

"Understood!" Howard immediately moved four cannons to the helm.

Agitated cries echoed over from the left. A few Daws stuck to a whaling ship. The two sides were fighting on the deck already and its cannons were silent.

Of all the combatants fighting up and down the line, Reidy was the most ferocious. No one could stand against him. A few gold-ranked corsairs had charged at him at one point. They were all past on the deck now.

Two thousand guards had come with Lorist, spread across the whaling ships. Each ship had a hundred of his guards and 200 corsairs. Most were now caught up in the fighting. One ship's deck was still completely empty, however. The boarders were pouring onto the ship endlessly.

Lorist's own ship had no corsairs, just 500 of his guards. They stood side by side with Lorist, ready to face their enemy.

"Jinolio, have the Daws withdraw and put some distance between them and the enemy. They have to keep firing. Peal the ticks off our ship!"

"Right away!"

"Be careful! Collision imminent!"

The whaling ship shook horribly immediately and half the guards lost their footing.

The flaming ships clamped between the whaling ships and the Invincible's Daws creaked audibly. Their structures were crumbling. Only their frames still remained, like skeletons refusing to die.

A few of the burning planks fell onto the ships nearby but nobody bothered. They focused solely on their enemies.

"Kill them!"

Countless corsairs jumped over the small gap to the other ship. They couldn't get a grip, however, and simply tumbled into the water. They had to discard their weapons and climb up slowly, searching meticulously for places to grasp with every step. Despite this setback, the enemy ships were soon swarming with Invincible corsairs.

Those who had and used grappling hooks, were already on deck fighting. They died by the bushel, however. Lorist didn't even get a chance to kill a few, he just stood there watching his men slaughter the enemy. The deck was soon cleared, and the men started flinging javelins, spears, and axes at the men still climbing up the hull or waiting for their turn on the ships below. Those close to grappling hooks cut through the rope, sending those clinging onto them tumbling into the water below or onto the decks below.

The ship shook again, it was harsher this time, enough to make Lorist stumble to keep his balance. He turned his gaze in the direction the hit came from and noticed boarders pouring in from four Daws on the other side of the ship. He darted over and started harvesting.

Soon after the cannons fired again. He caught the aftermath in the corner of his eyes. Several dozen enemies on the nearby Sabnim's decks vanished. Only two of the four cannons were focused on the ship, however. The other two pointed in the opposite direction, firing at a Daw to the ship's stern. The charging enemies vanished in an instant, but a few swung onto the ship from their ship's masts. Howard made short work of them but was soon after pushed into a corner by several gold-ranked corsairs fighting together.

Josk noticed this as well and ended one. An instant later Howard struck another distracted by his comrade's demise. With that the last boarder on the deck was dead. They now only had to keep mopping up the rest as they tried to climb up.

The enemy noticed this unnaturally large ship in the middle of the formation seemed to be faring much better than the rest. It had to be their flagship. A horn sounded and another group of ships charged at it, firing as they went.

Howard didn't sit by idly, however. He immediately turned his cannons on the new foes. Josk jumped down from the nest. A rope caught his feet halfway down, however, and he was left swinging back and forth halfway to the deck. He quickly cut the rope, but landed awkwardly next to Lorist, cursing.

As the enemy ships closed in, their more accurate weapons such as bows could be used. The height of Lorist's ship, however, meant they couldn't target the deck directly. Josk in the crow's nest, however, was a different story.

"There are at least a hundred high-tier fighters and a thousand or so sailors in total." Howard reported.

"Let them come. We'll deal with them, you just focus on their decks and ranged weapons. I don't want any nasty surprises again," ordered Lorist.

He dearly wanted to have a good slaughter.

The enemy had indeed moved their elites to his ship. He saw just over a hundred golden blade glows. The rest had silver glows. The six in the middle must be their commanders, they gave off the most bloody feeling. Blademasters.

It only took Howards cannons two volleys to completely decimate the enemy ballistae. Howard was just about to order another volley when he noticed there was nothing left to shoot at.

Two figures landed on the deck and charged straight for Lorist. He smiled at them warmly, like he was welcoming dear friends to his home for tea; dodged their attacks and beheaded them. Their corpses collapsed limply, spewing fluids over the salty deck. The ten a bit further away also charging at him stopped and stared incredulously at the scene.

Huh? What's going on? Weren't you going to come and kill me? Don't chicken out, you cowards! I want a good fight!

"Step back," Lorist ordered the guards beside him.

The men obliged, leaving a small arena in which their lord could enjoy himself. Three more figures leapt onto the deck and took up positions in front of the ten.

"What's going on?" asked Penelope.

He had held back and allowed his subordinates to go up first. He expected to be greeted by a chaotic melee. Instead his men were just standing there, staring at the enemy.

What the hell?!

"L-look..." said one.

Penelope turned his gaze to the two corpses. Weren't they Blademasters Abigail and Fezny? He'd dueled Fezny before. The fight lasted a thousand bouts.

The gold-ranked swordsman muttered as he pointed at Lorist, "One... one move..."

Penelope's heart burst out of his chest. This was not good. He'd forgotten why he didn't want to join this fight. He licked his dry lips.

"I am the commander of Invincible, Viscount Penelope. Who are you?"

"This is my fleet," Lorist answered, "I am Norton Lorist, Duke of The Northlands. I will give you one chance. Everyone charge me at once. I've been waiting all day and my patience is running thin."

Come here you bastards! Fight me already!"

"The... the bloodblade saint..." muttered Penelope.

Penelope's companion dropped his sword, almost like it had just slipped out of his hand.

"I surrender. I ask only to be treated as befits my station."

"I... I--" Penelope discarded his weapon unwillingly as well. "--I... I also surrender and. I ask only to be treated as befits my station."

Meeting After the Battle

"All's fair in love and war."

The clash, soon to be known as the Battle of Cape Romani would be a matter of debate among historians for generations. Many believed it was the beginning of the age of cannons. House Norton ruled the seas from that day onwards. Many others, however, believed the outcome wasn't as exaggerated as the other thought. They considered the cannons much less of a threat. Invincible did suffer heavy losses, but they didn't think the outcome was as much of an overwhelming victory for Northsea.

If Invincible hadn't attacked the three ships in the middle where duke Lorist had been and had instead focused on the flanks, they might even have won. It didn't help that Northsea's performance had been rather lackluster. They'd let their guard down, which was why they were forced into close quarters combat. Their saving grace was that the enemy focused all their elites on their flagship where their swordsaint was. Had the enemy instead deployed their elites to other ships, the situation would have been unsalvageable.

Unfortunately, that's not what they did. They could not be criticised for their choices too much. What normal force would deploy a newly ascended swordsaint to a naval engagement? And what swordsaint would agree to fighting on a ship in the middle of nowhere? Swordsaints were the absolute pinnacle of power on the continent. Why would they serve on a shitty ship?

Lorist, however, was not as pretentious and self-important as was the norm for those of his stature or power. He didn't mind going to the front or duking it out on ships. If his participation could spare his men and end the fighting quickly so he could get back to ruling his lands, he would gladly participate. And he had to admit that he really enjoyed slaughtering helpless weaklings, even more so killing strong opponents after a good fight.

For all the arguments about the details, one thing was not disputed. Penelope surrendered without so much as a single swordstroke. He was unlucky to meet such a strong opponent. His surrender broke the fleet's back, and it routed.

...

"Why would you do that?!" Lorist nearly screamed.

The enemy's strongest had finally come and he could have a good fight… only to surrender just as he was raising his sword! Is that why you rushed over? To fucking surrender?!

"I don't want to die," answered Penelope frankly. He regretted his actions already. Why did he have to come to the front-line? His gut had told him to steer clear of this place, but he still came! Then again, how was he supposed to know the enemy's single swordsaint would be here? He was not going to through his life away. He'd already earned a fief and a title, so why'd he fight to the death here if he could just surrender, pay the ransom, and return home and live out an early retirement at home?

He could not be blamed even if the entire fleet was wiped out. He had not made any mistakes, he had just been unlucky. In fact, the fleet would not have made it even this far if his leadership had not been spectacular. Surrendering to a swordsaint after meeting them on the field was no shame. No one could expect him to try to fight the man, nor could anyone criticize him for surrendering to him.

Lorist finally understood why his side had been so terrified when they'd run into the windstrom swordsaint that day. Even the usually brash Fisablen had curled up into a ball. Lorist had been the only one to face his enemy without fear because he already suspected that he himself was also a swordsaint. Despite that, he could not accept such an unseemly display, especially not when it robbed him of a good slaughter.

"Fine, you'll get your treatment. Pick up your swords again and I'll let you take two men with you. Order the rest of the fleet to surrender and I'll spare them as well. If you don't, then I'll kill you as well," Lorist gave in.

These fool's gaze made him feel uncomfortable. It felt like a bunch of kids were staring at him, and adult, bullying them; like he had no business being here. True, it was a little overkill for a swordsaint to be in this battle, but that was why he'd come in the first place. His presence could make things go a lot smoother, so why wouldn't he come?

"Thank you, Lord Norton," Penelope bowed elegantly.

He immediately ordered his men to surrender and had the order passed along to the rest of the fleet. Soon the rest of the ships raised the white.

Lorist left dealing with things to his subordinates. The battle had ended, but everyone was still running around like crazy, if anything, they were now even busier than during the battle. Things only calmed down as the sun began to drink water. Senbaud returned from chasing a couple of the stragglers that fled. All but two had been sunk, but unfortunately those two had escaped. When Senbaud described the two ships to the captives, they told Lorist and the admiral that one of the ships was Serihanem's, that old bastard acquaintance of Lorist's.

When Lorist enquired about the man's presence in the fleet, he finally learned that the brat was the one who came up with the counter to his cannons. Jinolio immediately tried to move Senbaud back out after the bastard, but Lorist stopped him.

Serihanem was a bastard, but not a fool. He would definitely have anticipated such a deployment and have made preparations accordingly. Sending any ships after him would only be putting what was left of their fleet in unnecessary danger. As such, news of Invincible's defeat and complete eradication reached the Union.

That night, Lorist held a massive banquet to celebrate the victory and remember the fallen. As custom dictated, the enemy nobles were invited as well. Among them, Lorist saw a familiar face, though he couldn't put a name to it.

"Revered Lord Duke, I am Archduke Lorf Fustat, a rank 1 blademaster," the duke replied upon Lorist's inquiry.

YOU! his voice shrilled in his head, No wonder you looked familiar, you fucker!

"Why are you here?"

He was supposed to be the archduke of Jigda, rumours had it that he had more power than the king. Why was he out here?

"The Union is an ally. We need their help against Romon and Khawistan, so we came to help them when they asked it. I deployed my Firebird legion with the fleet to help in the fight and any invasions it might have launched. It is troubling that my legion became captives before they could have a decent fight."

Fustat even joked about the shame the legion's capture would bring to his family. It was supposed to be the kingdom's greatest force, but it had fallen to the enemy without crossing swords even once. He just wanted to pay his ransom and leave with his legion as quickly as possible to mitigate the damage to his reputation.

"I beg that you allow me to pay my ransom and that of my legion and leave. I promise neither I, my legion, nor any of the people over which I have influence, will get involved with the Union and its conflicts with you again."

"Why rush, Archduke?--" Lorist waved his hand. "--It's great to meet you again after so many years. Speaking of meeting again, how's your wife, Duchess Prinna?"

Fustat stared at Lorist wide-eyed."Have we met before? You... you know of my wife, Wenna?"

Lorist cracked a smile.

"Of course. We met nearly two decades ago when I was still just a student at Dawn Academy. You were just a Marquis then. Your wife was still Miss Windsor Prinna. In fact, she and I were dating at the time. We competed against one another for her hand but you won. How fortunes can be fickle, heh Archduke? You won on the battlefield of love, but I've won on the field of war."

The archduke's face paled instantly. His fellow captives listened carefully, forgetting the decorum of nobility, and the humility of prisoners. Everyone loved gossip, especially where it concerned this enigmatic saint. This was far too enticing to ignore. Oh how their peers would love to hear this when they finally returned

"You... it was you..." Lorf muttered non-stop. He had completely forgotten about the little man his wife had liked when they met. Now the little man was Duke of the Northlands, the continents newest and youngest swordsaint, and his captor.

I'm dead... It's all over...

Decision and Promise

"The weak stand on principle because it protects them, the strong are pragmatic because it benefits them. So show me a principled powerful man and I shall show you a liar."

Lorist looked at the pale-faced archduke with an odd smile.

Kill you? Why would I? It's been 18 years. It's not like it was your fault either. That bitch left me for you because she wanted to. It doesn't really matter why she did either. She was the first one I loved, in both my lives, and she broke my heart for her greed.

First loves were the sweetest, but their pain was also the worse. While it didn't dominate his thoughts, the pain still ached in his heart. But it also revealed to him this world's true nature. Nobles were heroes and peasants were villains[1].

He'd never had the thought of getting back at the then marquis. And striking at him now would only make him seem like someone who was vindictive over things that should long since have been put to rest. Destiny was cruel and unpredictable. He'd never thought his former lover's husband would be in front of him now.

Were he still that same common mercenary Lorf would have given him a few gold coins and gone back to his wife to tell of the funny encounter. No doubt he'd have praised her foresight as she'd still be a commoner's wife if she'd turned him down. It might actually have spurred the woman on to work even harder for his favour.

That was not the timeline in which they lived, however. Lorist was a duke with the power of a king, perhaps even more if his swordsaint status was considered as well. He was a legend, a dragon amongst men. Archduke Lorf could not bend his neck back far enough to look up at him. Lorf was even less compared to Lorist now than Lorist had been to him all those years ago.

Lorist lost interest immediately, even as his ex-opponent in love's face continued to pale. He raised his cup with a smile.

"Don't worry, Archduke. I was just reminiscing on simpler days. Time had flown by us; eighteen years have passed and now we are involved in a continent-spanning war. Our last encounter saw me as just a lowly student-mercenary and you just a marquis. Neither of us are anywhere near where we were back then, though the rankings have reversed. Now you are an archduke and I am a duke-swordsaint. So much has changed. Here's to a past worth remembering. Cheers."

Lorf looked down at his cup to see it already empty. Wasn't it full just a moment ago? When had he emptied it? He couldn't even remember what it tasted like. When he sat back down a cold, wet shirt pressed against his back. Penelope, sat beside him, joined the toast.

"You mentioned you worked as a mercenary back in Morante? Could you tell us a few stories?"

Alcohol worked wonders on Lorist's tongue, so he quickly started reciting his autobiography. When his grand tale came to his fights against three thousand silver swordsmen, everyone's jaws met the ground.

"So Iron Locke, the Silver Undefeated was actually you?! Invincible sent hundreds of silvers to fight you. Obviously none won! I lost several hundred gold Fordes because you..."

Lorist laughed happily.

"Your ascension sounds much more plausible now. Iron Locke, the Silver Undefeated is still a legend in the city. I was just a two-star gold rank back then. If only I'd not been working on a breakthrough, I'd have loved to see your matches. You were gone by the time I emerged from my training retreat."

Penelope obviously spoke out of politeness. He hadn't been at all interested in meeting some nondescript iron rank. It was just a topic thrown around the dinner table and bar to liven up the conversation. He did feel it was a shame the young man returned to his homeland. If he'd stayed in the city, he'd have become the Union's first homebred swordsaint. He'd also have been one of its top nobles. Invincible would still rule the sea and might even have been armed with cannons! The Union really let their fortune slip through their fingers.

Lorist smiled silently. He had some idea what Penelope was thinking. It was great fantasizing but would likely never have happened. If he'd stayed in the Union, he would not have been under any of the pressures that forced his improvement. He'd likely just have spent his entire life as an instructor at Dawn Academy. The Union would also never have become the continent's largest power -- however brief their stint at the top ended up being -- since he was the spur that pushed them in that direction by leaking the techniques for making glass.

Penelope broke out of his reverie quickly.

"Milord, may I know how you plan to deal with Invincible?"

"I would have told you eventually, but, since you've asked... The top brass can pay a ransom for their freedom. We are all nobles so I'll adhere to custom. Lorf can ransom his legion as well. Granted they don't try anything or make any trouble for me or my men whilst we wait for the money I will not make trouble for him.

"Everyone will stay on Silowas Island until the war is over. Ransoming will happen thereafter. The fleet will stay there until the war is over as well. They can return once the Union pays their ransom. I will allow individual families to ransom their husbands, sons, brothers, and fathers as well.

"Those that don't have the money can earn their freedom. They can either serve in Northsea for a time, five years at least. They'll get half-pay in that time. If they choose not to, they can join my land-based forces for the same time, but they won't be paid, they'll only get room, board, and cloth. Either way, they'll be free to leave once their five years are up.

"You nobles may join me in Ragebear or stand by my side as I work to end this war quickly. You will be allowed to carry weapons as noble right dictates and keep two guards and two servants with you. Living conditions will unfortunately be less than ideal, this is a time of war, after all."

Such was the reality of feudal nobility. Nobles always had better treatment, even when captive. Their watchers still had to bow to them and speak and behave politely even though they were their prisoners.

Everyone was relieved. No one had wanted this. Everyone had thought it would end when the Union accepted Auguslo's offer for peace talks and sent an envoy. Those not at the very top of the Union's power structure were just as surprised by the Union's move as everyone else.

They'd also feared the duke would be as uncultured as his king. The bastard had declared their nobility void after the attack because they 'lacked the courage and decorum expected of nobles,' they 'knew only how to scheme and plot in the shadows like the lowly and shameless rats they were', and massacred thousands of nobles and their families as he marched across the plains.

The Union retaliated in kind and relieved thousand of Andinaq noble heads of their bodies when they counter-attacked. The three years of war which had now passed had engrained hatreds in the two sides' hearts that would remain for generations, even centuries even if the war ended today and never started up again.

Until their clashes with Northsea, Invincible had not seen any of the war, but news of the bloody battles and reprisals still reached their sails. Despite Lorist's assurances, they could not sleep easily. He did have a far greater reputation than his king though. He, at least, as not known for lying, breaking promises, and deceiving others, so his words carried more weight.

Lorf was also much calmer now. Lorist may be a swordsaint, but he had none of the pretension and arrogance Lorf had come to expect from people with that title. He was very reasonable, even likeable. It appeared that he treated everyone the same except when they acted in a way that made it necessary or appropriate to treat them otherwise. For one, he hadn't treated his captives as though he was looking down on them so far. Though he was bound to have different thoughts, that he kept them out of public was already a good sign.

"Duke Norton," Lorf said as he stood up, "may I contact my house so they can send someone to negotiate the ransom?"

"Hmm..." Lorist looked at Lorf and rapped his fingers on the table.

"I plan nothing, Lord Duke. I am fully willing to comply with what you've set out. I wish only for this war to an end as quickly as possible so the damage it wreaks can be limited as much as possible. I am still Jigda's Archduke and must tend to certain duties. I trust you know what I mean. We nobles are not truly free people. We must act in the interests of our houses.

"Jigda is far from this conflict and has no contact with Andinaq. We deployed only because of our friendship with the Union, not out of malice for Andinaq. We've not suffered any losses in this war yet and have not caused any harm to your side either. It could be said that we've not clashed with your house at all and as such have no grudge or bad blood between us. I wish only to explain this to my house clearly so they do not create conflict where there need be none. I also wish to keep my house from making mistakes and leaving themselves vulnerable to espionage from those that wish to take our place."

Most of the noble voiced their agreement. Everyone understood the predicament in which the archduke found himself. It wouldn't have been as pressing an issue had Serihanem not escaped. Word would have taken much longer to reach home and there would have been time to settle in and gain the duke's trust, but things were not that simple now. Serihanem had escaped and word was quickly on its way everywhere. Time was of the essence.

"Very well. I would be no less anxious were our roles reversed. You may send two servants back with the message, but they must return with your houses reply and negotiator. I will have a small boat ready when you are done."

Lorf bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Lord duke. May we never be enemies."

Lorist laughed heartily.

"While our reasons may be different, we do have that wish in common. I do not like war. If I had my way, I would live out my entire life without ever having to march onto the field. Unfortunately the world has not been cooperative. A toast then, to a swift end to this bloody war!"

The banquet went on until the sun rose above the continent to the east. Everyone was drunk and merry. Lorist was cursed by his cultivation, however, cursed to be sober no matter how much he drank. He had his reasons for treating the nobles well. He was not one to bother with noble custom unless it was necessary. He cut corners where he could. No one would know what had really happened between him and the nobles out here, so he could have just killed them all. He didn't because he needed them to help keep the peace once he occupied Morante, and to force the Union to capitulate and surrender. Lorf was a great candidate to that end.

[1] Which is actually true. Villain comes from the Old French word vilein, and traditionally meant someone who was uncultured, uneducated, and boorish. Peasants were often referred to as villains and the language they spoke as vulgar (hence vulgar Latin and vulgar French). Which matches with the Latin origin of the word 'vulgus', which meant 'common people'.

Plan

"If the enemy has a powerful fleet, build a castle."

Senbaud was ready to escort the 800 transport ships to Cape Romani three days later. He asked to meet Lorist when they were near the coast.

"Your Grace, this is the list of people for the transport fleet as well as an inventory of the supplies they're carrying. There are 843 large to medium ships. Among them, 103 Dams are carrying the 100 thousand Union recruits. Most are just barely more than kids. More than 500 ships carry food and most of the rest carry military supplies. Oh, 38 Dams are also carrying ten thousand buckets of green vine glue," Senbaud reported.

Why would the Union need so much green vine glue? That's almost how much Romon produces in a year! Lorist thought.

According to the list, Twinhead Dragon had spent a lot of money to purchase a year's worth of the green vine glue from Romon, at three-tenths more than market price.

Weird... Why does Twinhead Dragon need so much glue?

After some thought, Lorist began to understand what was going on. After three years of war, most of the plains were rubble. The guild purchased so much glue to rebuild the area. Perhaps they could even use the glue to rebuild the destroyed walls and fortifications.

Each bucket of weighed 50 kilograms, so ten thousand would make 500 thousand kilograms. With that much vine glue as a binder, Lorist could finally do something he'd thought of in the last couple of days.

"Wonderful. I was just lacking laborers," Lorist exclaimed, "When we get to short, let the recruits off. I need them for something. Tell them if they serve us properly for five years, they'll get their freedom back and be allowed to return home. Also, immediately offload the glue when you get to shore as well."

"Oh? Your Grace, aren't we sending the glue back to the dominion?"

"Follow me," said Lorist. He brought him out of the captain's cabin onto the deck.

"See that? I plan to build a crossing here. This will be where we start taking control of the sunshine seas and the golden coast."

Senbaud opened his eyes wide and stared out over the deck but saw nothing but ocean. His gaze finally settled where Lorist pointed and he saw Cape Romani. Cliffs burst out of the ocean like giant sea creatures coming up for air.

He wants to build a castle there?

Lorist, having not received a response, knew he was way off the mark.

"What are you looking at? I'm not going to build it on the cliff. I'm going to have something built on the reef."

Senbaud finally realized Lorist's finger was pointed at the ocean surface. However, it simply wasn't possible to build a castle on the reef. The deepest areas were ten meters while the shallower parts were around three meters. Even after the tide receded, only a part of the reef would be exposed. Unless Lorist was trying to fill up the reef to reclaim the land, there was no way a castle could be built.

"This reef is near the golden sea routes. If we build a castle and use it as a customs point, we only have to station a few Blitzes here and fit the walls with some cannons to control the entire region. We'll cut the Union off from the sea completely. We won't have to risk our ships in the south either. This will be our safe spot in the south as Silowas is in the north. It also allows us to have a supply station in the south."

Lorist had gotten the idea after receiving Howard's report and had already sent people to survey the region.

"But, Your Grace, this is too big," Senbaud said, "We are still at war. Even if we have the supplies and 100 thousand laborers, reclaiming the land around the reef isn't possible quickly enough to avoid getting attacked. This will take years. Isn't it a little too wasteful to invest so much into such a risky project?"

Lorist laughed.

"If we really have to spend three or four years, it really wouldn't be worth it. But we can begin construction in two months. We'll be done in half a year!"

"What?! Impossible! Your Grace, how are you going to fill this entire area in in just two months? Even if we have 100 thousand laborers, it's still impossible!"

"It's possible. We don't have to fill in the area at all," Lorist laughed, "Senbaud, the battle's outcome is out. Only 147 of INvincible's original 472 ship are still afloat. Putting aside the 74 Daws we destroyed, the remaining 250 ships are badly damaged.

"Fixing them temporarily will let us take them to Hidegold Bay, but they'll just sit there and rot. And we can't keep using them in their current state. They won't survive the north either, so there's no way to send them to Northsea to be repaired properly.

"They're useless to us. If so, then why not make some use of them? We'll fill them up and sunk them around the reef to make a dam. There's an oval-shaped lagoon in the middle of the reef around ten to twenty meters deep. If we remove a couple of the rocks, the lagoon can be a harbor. The buckets of glue will be really useful. We don't even need to stir them. We just have to thin the glue and pour it into the ships. When it solidifies and sinks, the ships will be walls."

Lorist had recycling on his mind all along. He would first build a makeshift dam before building a wall atop them where cannons could be installed so he could control the region. The house would also have a naval base near the sunshine seas.

Senbaud was struck and admired his lord so much he almost wanted to kneel on all fours. His lord was practically making something out of nothing. Castles built near reefs were usually unassailable. What kind of ship could take on a castle? It would create a massive chokepoint and they could use it to strangle the Union.

"Milord is wise," Senbaud said with a slap to his forehead, "I didn't think such a thing could be done. If we really build a castle here, we can get another source of income from the tolls as well. No private ships will be allowed, or able, to pass without paying. May I use the funds from that to expand our fleet?"

Lorist was surprised.

"Senbaud, I've already commissioned ten Blitzes. What more could you want? We're also going to change up the Daws and make them support ships. Besides, what do you mean by toll?"

The moment he heard Lorist was going to have ten more Blitzes built, Senbaud burst.

"A maritime toll is a hidden tax. When Invincible controlled the seas, all privately owned ships passing through had to pay a fee for use of the waters and protection from pirates. If a ship was caught without the right permit, it was confiscated and became property of the fleet. As far as I know, a Dam pays 25 gold Fordes a year for its permit."

"Wait, wasn't Chikdor the real hegemon of the south? When did Invincible become the lord?"

"It wouldn't be wrong to call Chikdor the hegemons since they do have a huge share of Invincible, but when Wessia was wiped out, Twinhead Dragon absorbed the rest of their shares in the fleet.

"On the surface, Invincible was the kings of the south. It could do anything in the Union's name and the nations near the golden coast had to endure everything. Chikdor managed to secretly assume control of Invincible while monopolizing most of the produce of the southern nations. Their ships and trading fleets are the largest apart from Invincible.

"Some ports and harbors are completely under Chikdor's control. They have a huge trading network in the nations in the south. However, they didn't really prioritize their business, they focused on taking advantage of the profits of other people instead." explained Senbaud.

"Oh, I see. You mentioned we can collect a huge sum from tolls? What if the ships don't want to come?"

"Hehe, don't worry, Milord. If the merchants only sail around the south, they won't earn anything. THe profitable routes are all between the north and south, going past here."

"Is that so? And why do you know so much? Are you privately in this line of business as

"I'm not doing anything like that. I heard this from the merchants I caught. They helped me a bunch and stopped the men of Invincible from sinking their ships and sabotaging the supplies. I asked them what they wanted as a reward and they mentioned wanting an audience with Your Lordship."

"Why do they want to meet me?"

Senbaud scratched his head.

"Their ships were requisitioned by Invincible. Now we have them. They hope you'll return their ships to them. I think the help they lent me in securing the fleet is worth only a few gold coins. We don't need to give them the ships."

"I guess I won't be meeting them then," Lorist said, scratching his chin, "Accept their request and return their ships."

"But, Milord, that's 300 ships! It's a lot of money!"

"Give the ships back. We have 800 ships in the transport fleet, so we'll still have 500 left. It doesn't matter if we have the ships or not anyway, we don't have the men to crew them. Besides, this is a great opportunity. We couldn't expand our trade routes before, but now we can. Chikdor and Peterson kept us out of business in the south, but now they can't. This is a great chance to take hold of their trade routes. We'll give the merchants their ships and offer them good prices and protection to trade with us rather than the Union. Also, we'll show them what we can sell them when they stop by Silowas to drop off the supplies."

"Understood, Milord."

"Alright. If we can make Silowas a trade centre, the checkpoint castle will rake in profit as well. I'll do a check by the end of the year. If the profits are huge, we can consider expanding Northsea to three flotillas. That should be enough for you to sail in the north freely."

"Thank you, Milord." Senbaud's smile cracked his face in two from ear to ear.

"Senbaud, your next mission is really important. Let Howard take control of your corsairs. He will need some people to supervise the 100 thousand laborers. Take ten Blitzes with you and move the rest of our haul and captives to Silowas. I have notified Camorra to head there and make arrangements.

"As for the remaining ships, I will take them to Armatrin to meet up with the sentry legion and Firmrock. Once you've dropped everything off on Silowas, come back and watch over the construction here. Once that's done, send the laborers to Kenmays's dominion in batches. They'll go to Yungechandler from Platinum Beach."

"But, Milord, aren't you going to attack Hidegold Bay and Morante?"

"We no longer need Northsea to attack Hidegold Bay. Just look at the ships we captured. We can use them to sneak into the bay and occupy Morante."

Disguising themselves as Invincible to sail into the bay was much safer and the enemy couldn't be prepared for it. If they sent Blitzes, they would only put the enemy on alert.

"Understood, Milord. I will complete my mission."

This week's TS2 Quiz is out! Answer it right and get to read one chapter ahead for the rest of next week! More details here:

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