The once mighty fleet of the Demon King General Ursa was now reduced to chaos and wreckage. Five ships had already been sunk, their hulks smoldering and broken in the churning waters. Three more were badly damaged, their decks aflame, and their sails torn to shreds. Only twelve ships remained operational, their dark flags still billowing defiantly in the wind.
From their watchtower, Nick and Sam watched the relentless artillery barrage continue. The M777 howitzers roared once more, and another volley of shells arced through the sky. The shells found their marks and three more enemy ships were hit. The explosions sent debris flying, and two ships were completely destroyed, their remains quickly swallowed by the sea. The fleet was now down to ten operational ships.
"Another direct hit!" Nick exclaimed. "We're really giving them a beating."
Sam nodded, his eyes glued to the battle. "But they're still coming. Get ready, Nick. It's about to get ugly."
