Whoosh!
The wind howled violently, and torrential rain poured down as the three-masted ship rocked between wave crests that towered like mountains. It was as if the vessel were a toy, thrown and caught repeatedly by a giant.
Alger Wilson's eyes cleared of the deep red tint, and he found himself still standing on the deck, as if nothing had changed.
Moments later, he noticed the strange glass bottle in his hand cracking apart with a sharp sound. The frost and snow inside melted into water and merged with the raindrops.
In just two or three seconds, the ancient artifact had completely vanished, leaving no trace of its prior existence.
A single hexagonal snowflake appeared briefly in Alger's palm before quickly fading away, seeming to absorb into his flesh.
Alger gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if deep in thought, and stood silently for a full five minutes.
He then turned and walked toward the entrance to the cabin. Just as he was about to step inside, he encountered a man wearing a long robe embroidered with lightning patterns, just like his own.
The man, who had soft blond hair, paused, looked at Alger, and placed his clenched right fist over his chest.
"May the Storm be with you."
"May the Storm be with you," Alger replied, his rugged, weathered face devoid of excess emotion as he mirrored the gesture.
After exchanging the customary greeting, Alger entered the cabin and made his way down the corridor toward the captain's quarters.
The passage was eerily quiet, with not a single sailor or crew member in sight. It was as silent as a tomb.
The door to the captain's quarters was open, revealing a soft, thick, dark-brown carpet. On either side of the room stood bookshelves and wine cabinets, their yellowing book covers and bottles of dark-red wine glinting strangely in the candlelight.
On the desk, which held a candleholder, there was a bottle of ink, a feather quill, a black metal spyglass, and a brass sextant.
Behind the desk stood a pale-faced middle-aged man wearing a captain's hat adorned with a skull. He stared at Alger as he approached step by step and gritted his teeth in anger.
"I will not surrender!"
"I believe you," Alger replied calmly, as though commenting on the weather.
"You…" The middle-aged man froze, seemingly caught off guard by Alger's response.
In that instant, Alger bent his body slightly and lunged forward, closing the distance between them to the desk in a single heartbeat.
Smack!
His shoulder tensed, and his right hand shot out like a viper, gripping the man's throat.
Without giving the man a chance to react, scales like phantom fish scales surfaced on the back of Alger's hand, and his fingers tightened with brutal force.
Crack!
A crisp sound echoed as the middle-aged man's eyes widened in shock. His body was lifted entirely off the ground.
His legs flailed violently before suddenly going limp. His gaze grew vacant, his pupils dilated, and a dark stain spread from his crotch, accompanied by a foul stench.
Hoisting the man up, Alger bent his back and charged toward the nearby wall.
Bang! He slammed the man's body into the wooden wall like a shield, his arms as thick and powerful as a monster's.
The wooden wall shattered with a loud crash, allowing the fierce wind and salty tang of seawater to rush into the cabin.
Alger twisted his waist and pivoted his back, hurling the man out of the cabin and into the towering waves that loomed like mountains.
The dark skies, howling winds, and pounding rain quickly swallowed everything in nature's unrelenting fury.
Alger pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped his right hand before tossing the cloth into the sea as well.
Stepping back a few paces, he patiently awaited the arrival of his companion.
"What happened?" The blond man from earlier burst in less than ten seconds later.
"The 'Captain' escaped," Alger replied, panting slightly, his tone tinged with frustration. "He still retained some Extraordinary power!"
"D*mn it!" The blond man cursed under his breath.
He approached the broken wall, squinting into the distance. But aside from the storm and the waves, there was nothing to see.
"Forget it. He was just an extra," the blond man said, waving his arm dismissively. "The fact that we found this ghost ship from the Tudor Era is already a significant achievement."
Even as one favored by the sea, he dared not dive into the water in such treacherous conditions.
"And if the storm continues, the 'Captain' won't last long anyway," Alger nodded, noticing that the broken wall was beginning to writhe and mend itself at a speed visible to the naked eye.
He cast a deep glance at the wall, then instinctively turned his gaze toward the ship's helm and sails.
Even through layers of wooden planks, he could sense the situation there clearly.
There was no first mate, no second mate, no crew, and no sailors—not a single living soul!
It was completely empty. The helm and sails adjusted themselves in an eerie, autonomous manner.
The image of that figure shrouded in gray-white fog—the "Fool"—flashed through Alger's mind, prompting him to let out a sudden sigh.
He turned to gaze at the raging storm outside and murmured in a tone that was both expectant and fearful, as if speaking in a dream:
"A new era has begun…"
…
Chapter 8: A New Era
Beckland, the capital of the Kingdom of Rune, in the Queen's District.
Audrey Hall pinched her own cheek, still in disbelief over the events she had just experienced.
On the dressing table before her, an ancient copper mirror was shattered into pieces.
Her gaze dropped, and Audrey saw a deep crimson glow flickering on the back of her hand, resembling the "tattoos" of stars.
The crimson gradually faded, eventually disappearing beneath her skin.
It was only at this moment that Audrey realized she wasn't dreaming.
Her eyes glimmered, and the corners of her mouth curled up slightly. Unable to resist, she stood up, bending slightly to lift her skirt.
She performed a curtsy to the air and, with light steps, twirled her body and began to dance the "Ancient Elf Dance," the latest craze in court.
Her movements were graceful, her face radiant with joy.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the bedroom door.
"Who is it?" Audrey stopped abruptly, assuming a dignified posture.
"Miss, may I come in? It's time for you to get ready," a maid's voice called from outside the door.
Audrey glanced at the mirror on the dressing table, quickly smoothing her expression into a faint, subtle smile. She checked herself from left to right to make sure she looked flawless before replying gently:
"Come in."
With a turn of the handle, Audrey's personal maid, Annie, entered.
"Oh, it's broken..." Annie immediately noticed the fate of the ancient copper mirror.
Audrey blinked slowly, speaking in a measured tone, "Well, yes... Suzy was here earlier. You know how she is. She always likes to destroy things!"
Suzy was a golden retriever with not-so-pure bloodline, a gift given to her father, Count Hall, when he purchased a hunting dog. Audrey, however, adored the dog.
"You really need to teach her a lesson," Annie said as she began cleaning up the broken mirror shards, careful not to hurt her mistress.
Once finished, Annie looked at Audrey with a smile and asked, "Which dress would you like to wear?"
Audrey thought for a moment before responding, "I like the one Mrs. Ginia designed for my seventeenth birthday."
"No, that one won't do," Annie shook her head. "People will start asking if the Hall family is facing a financial crisis, wearing the same dress twice at an official event!"
"But I really like it," Audrey gently emphasized, her tone warm.
"You can wear it at home or at less formal occasions," Annie replied firmly, making it clear that there would be no argument.
"Then the one Mr. Sedes sent a couple of days ago—the one with the ruffled sleeves," Audrey inhaled quietly and maintained her elegant, sweet smile.
"Your taste is always impeccable," Annie smiled and stepped back, calling out, "The sixth wardrobe, no, I'll fetch it myself."
The maids quickly began to get busy—one was handling the long dress, another the jewelry and accessories, one for shoes, one for the veil, one was doing Audrey's makeup, and another was considering her hairstyle.
As the preparations neared completion, Count Hall appeared at the door, wearing a dark brown vest.
He wore a matching top hat, and his small but neatly groomed mustache framed his blue eyes that were filled with a cheerful expression. However, the relaxed muscles, bulging belly, and increasingly prominent laugh lines made it clear that he was no longer the handsome man of his youth.
"The brightest jewel of Beckland, it's time to leave," Count Hall announced as he stood in the doorway, lightly tapping the open door.
"Dad, don't call me that," Audrey, helped by the maid, stood up and deliberately showed a slight look of distress.
"Then, my beautiful little princess, it's time to go," Count Hall raised his left arm, signaling Audrey to take it.
Audrey smiled and shook her head: "That's the Countess, my dear mother's place."
"Then this arm is for me," Count Hall smiled and raised his right arm, "As a father, I'm proud to offer it to you."
Priz Port, Oak Island, Royal Navy Base.
As Audrey walked arm-in-arm with her father out of the carriage, she was suddenly struck by the colossal sight before her.
In the nearby naval harbor, there stood a towering warship, its body gleaming with a metallic shine. It had no sails, only a lookout tower, and two towering smokestacks, along with two exposed gun turrets placed at the front and rear.
It was so magnificent and immense that the nearby sailing battleships seemed like tiny dwarfs huddling around a giant.
"By the Storm..."
"Oh, my Lord."
"Ironclad ship!"
The exclamations of awe echoed throughout, and Audrey herself was equally shocked. This was a marvel created by humanity—a never-before-seen oceanic miracle!
Time seemed to pass unnoticed, and soon, the nobles, ministers, and lower-house members had regained their composure. Just then, a small black dot appeared in the sky, growing larger until it occupied a third of the sky, capturing everyone's attention and making the atmosphere suddenly become solemn.
It was a colossal flying ship, its lines smooth and elegant, painted in deep blue. Its sturdy yet light alloy framework supported fabric filled with gasbags, and beneath it hung a body armed with machine gun barrels, bomb ports, and broadside cannons. The powerful hum of its high-efficiency steam engines and the spinning sound of its tail propeller blades formed a thunderous symphony.
The royal family's airship had arrived, carrying with it an aura of supremacy that looked down upon all.
A "Sword of Judgment" emblem, with a ruby crown on its hilt, glistened in the sunlight, reflecting the proud legacy of the Augustus family, passed down for generations.
Audrey, still not yet eighteen and having not yet participated in the "Introduction Ceremony" to formally enter Beckland's social circles, was only allowed to quietly observe from a distance, unable to approach.
However, she didn't mind too much, and in fact, she felt relieved not to have to face the princes.
The "miracle" of human conquest of the skies landed smoothly. The first to descend from the ladder were the young, dashing royal guards, dressed in red military uniforms, white trousers, and adorned with medallions, holding rifles in their hands. They formed two neat rows, standing ready to greet King George III, the Queen, the princes, and the princesses.
Audrey had seen important figures before and wasn't particularly interested in them. Instead, her gaze wandered to the two black-armored knights who stood motionless beside the king, resembling statues.
In this era of steel, steam, and gunpowder, there were still those who insisted on wearing full armor!
The cold, metallic sheen, the deep black helmets—everything about them gave a feeling of weight, authority, and an undeniable need to obey.
"Could they be higher-ranked 'Judgment Knights'..." Audrey thought briefly, recalling words she had overheard from her elders. She was curious but didn't dare approach.
As the royal family made their entrance, the ceremony officially began. The current Prime Minister, Lord Agisid Nigen, stepped forward.
A member of the Conservative Party, he was one of only two non-noble men to become prime minister, and had been awarded the title of Lord for his exceptional contributions.
Of course, Audrey knew more—Agisid's brother, the main supporter of the Conservative Party, was Pallas Nigen, the Duke of Nigen!
Agisid, in his fifties, tall and lean, with sparse hair and sharp eyes, scanned the crowd before saying:
"Ladies and gentlemen, I believe you've all seen it—this is an ironclad ship, a ship capable of changing the course of history. It is 101 meters long, 21 meters wide, with a raised dry deck, a main armor belt 457 millimeters thick, and a displacement of 10,060 tons. It is armed with four 305mm main guns, six rapid-fire cannons, twelve 6-pounder guns, eighteen six-barreled machine guns, and four torpedo tubes. Its top speed can reach 16 knots!"
"It will be the true ruler of the seas. It will conquer the ocean!"
The nobles, ministers, and members of the parliament began murmuring in excitement, imagining the terrifying power of this ironclad ship. And with the actual vessel before them, their awe was tangible!
Agisid smiled slightly, delivered a few more words, and then bowed to King George III:
"Your Majesty, please, name her."
"From Priz Port, let her be called the Priz," King George III said, his expression filled with joy.
"Priz!"
"Priz!"
The name spread like wildfire, from the Navy Minister to the Supreme Commander of the Royal Navy, and finally, to the officers and soldiers on the ironclad, who cheered in unison:
"Priz!"
In the midst of the celebrations, with cannon salutes echoing, King George III gave the order for a test shot.
Toot!
The sound of the whistle echoed, thick smoke billowed from the chimneys, and the mechanical workings of the ship were faintly heard.
The mighty vessel set sail, and when it fired its two main cannons at a nearby uninhabited island, the earth seemed to shake.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The ground trembled, dust flew into the air, and hurricane-force winds swept outward, sending waves crashing.
Prime Minister Agisid turned to the nobles, ministers, and MPs with satisfaction and said:
"From now on, the seven pirates who call themselves generals, and the four usurpers who claim to be kings, can only tremble in fear, awaiting their doom!"
"Their era is over. Even if they possess some extraordinary power, ghost ships, or cursed vessels, the seas will belong only to ironclads!"
At this moment, Agisid's chief secretary deliberately asked:
"Then can't they build ironclads themselves?"
Some nobles and MPs nodded in agreement, thinking that this might be a possibility.
Agisid smiled and slowly shook his head, saying:
"Impossible, forever impossible! Building such an ironclad requires three major coal and steel conglomerates, twenty large steel factories, sixty scientists and engineers from the Beckland Firearms Research Institute and Priz Shipbuilding Institute, two royal shipyards and their subsidiary parts factories, a Navy Ministry, a shipbuilding committee, a cabinet, a visionary and determined king, and a great nation capable of producing twelve million tons of steel annually!"
"The pirates will never be able to do it."
With that, he paused, raising both arms triumphantly and shouting:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the era of giant ships and cannons has arrived!"