"Boom! Boom!" Ryan and the others were still discussing their next steps aboard the Enterprise, but the sound of distant cannon fire and hurried footsteps indicated that an enemy attack was underway.
Baron Juan Biocari rushed in from outside. "Your Majesty, a large number of enemy ships have been spotted! Northwest and west—there are undead vessels approaching! The High Elves have signaled us to prepare for battle!"
"Very well, prepare for battle immediately! Order all ships to ready the cannons!" Ryan decisively commanded. "Tell the Randuin to stay close to the ironclads and not to stray."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" The deck instantly erupted into activity, with soldiers and sailors running to and fro in preparation for combat. Despite having practiced drills many times, this was their first real naval battle, and the tension was palpable.
"Brother, are you going back to the Saint Sophia?" Ryan asked Fugen as he hastily donned his gear.
"No, we'll stay here and fight," Fugen replied calmly. "I have faith they'll handle things well."
"Excellent," Ryan said, wasting no further words.
As the King's orders were carried out, the entire Enterprise sprang into action. The massive steel beast began its operations. Veteran soldiers and sailors scurried across the deck, while dwarves barked commands to hold positions and load ammunition.
Little Sorgelin Ironhammer, carrying his axe and shield on his back and wielding a double-barreled dwarf rune shotgun, ordered his fellow dwarves to man their posts and prepare for combat. He took out a spyglass to survey the situation.
Behind Little Sorgelin, massive cannons were being adjusted, the steam-powered boiler roaring alongside the sound of waves crashing against the ship's steel hull.
"Twelve enemy ships, but none are a match for our Enterprise or the Saint Sophia," Little Sorgelin muttered confidently. "However, the enemy appears to have better cannons, and the Elves' ballistae lack range."
"Our triple-barreled cannons are more than capable of obliterating those piles of bones and wreckage held together by necromancy!" he declared with absolute certainty. "Let them come."
"What's the situation, Prince Sorgelin?" Ryan, now fully armored, approached the dwarf prince standing on the bridge's balcony, peering out over the railing.
"Undead fleet, approaching from two directions. Their broken ships and salvaged cannons can't pierce our ironclads," the dwarf prince assured him confidently. "Inform your men, Your Majesty—the wind is in our favor. Prepare for boarding and melee combat. The only way they can beat us is by getting in close."
"Boarding and melee combat... I'm looking forward to it," Ryan said, gripping the railing. "It seems the situation at sea has deteriorated."
"Look, Your Majesty," Little Sorgelin offered the spyglass to Ryan, but the Gene-Primarch waved it off, his enhanced vision making the tool unnecessary.
Indeed, only Ryan could see so far, but he needed the dwarves—no one understood the operation and repair of the ironclad's equipment better than these little bearded men. Bretonnian sailors and engineers were still far behind.
"Teclis and his fleet seem to be in trouble."
Just as Little Sorgelin had predicted, the High Elf Phoenix ship was indeed struggling.
The strength of the High Elves' warships lay in their incredible speed and powerful boarding capabilities. In battle, they could execute rapid, precise maneuvers and, once close, overwhelm enemies with mid-range firepower (ballistae, bows) and dragon escorts.
But the High Elves faced a dire problem: they had no dragons. For now, they had to rely on phoenixes.
Without dragons, they lacked proper reconnaissance and long-range firepower. Dragons also provided vital support and intimidation during close engagements. As a result, the High Elves' lack of long-range weapons was now exposed.
"Boom~~~" More cannon fire rained down from afar, crashing into the Phoenix ship's wooden hull, riddling it with holes. Elven soldiers and sailors stumbled as the ship rocked from the impact, struggling to regain their footing.
"Accelerate! Close in on the enemy, maintain course, the wind is in our favor!" Teclis calmly commanded the Lothern Sea Guard and an entire team of Swordmasters aboard the ship. As he chanted a spell, a gleaming barrier of light enveloped the Phoenix ship.
Though the undead continued to bombard them, for now, Teclis' magic kept the Phoenix ship intact.
Shadows deepened, and dark clouds gathered. The power of necromantic magic spread across the sea.
"Disperse!" Teclis gripped Lilith's Moon Staff, channeling its immense power into a brilliant light of hope and dreams, dispersing the necromantic mist. The first undead ghost ship, with its bleached white hull, skeletal crew, and bone masts, crept ominously closer.
"It's the Shadow Ghost of Captain Vaghurst!" the elves cried out as the undead crew appeared from the shadows.
"Prepare! Fire!" The Phoenix ship unleashed a barrage of heavy ballistae. Hundreds of massive bolts flew skyward, raining down on the ghost ship like a deadly hailstorm. Undead pirates fell in droves, the ship quickly turning into a pincushion from the precision fire.
"Not enough!" Teclis said firmly as three more undead ships approached in a pincer formation. Hundreds of flying vampire bats circled above, while ghostly sailors aboard the undead vessels howled in primal rage, driven by their insatiable hunger for the sea.
"Are Ryan and the others not here yet?" Teclis asked, casting a chain lightning spell that fried dozens of undead pirates. The High Loremaster, usually composed, was starting to show signs of impatience.
"Almost there! Two minutes!" Zoltan, a Swordmaster of Hoeth, shouted as he deflected incoming projectiles with his greatsword.
The ironclads were slower than the Elven ships, and the High Elves had, out of pride, purposely kept their distance from the allied human ships.
"Prepare for boarding!" Teclis declared. Driving his staff into the deck, he conjured twin vortexes of bright, scorching flames, incinerating the first wave of undead pirates attempting to board the Phoenix ship. After downing two potions, the High Loremaster drew his sword, Teclis' Blade, and rallied his forces. "Fight, Asur! For Lilith! For the Phoenix Court! For Ulthuan!"
"For Ulthuan!" The Lothern Sea Guard and Elven sailors formed tight ranks, unleashing volleys of arrows that rained down like death upon the undead, who responded with sporadic gunfire.
Although Teclis' magic couldn't destroy all the approaching undead, it had bought the elves precious time. When the first wave of undead pirates finally reached the Phoenix ship, the elves were ready. The Lothern Sea Guard stood in disciplined ranks, their spears impaling every skeletal pirate that dared step aboard, while the Swordmasters of Hoeth cleaved through the rotten, sea-stenched bodies of the undead with their massive swords.
Teclis himself dispatched two undead pirates with swift strokes of his blade but felt a sudden sharp pain in his temple. Glancing up, he saw two undead sharpshooters aiming their long muskets at him. Instantly, Teclis summoned a fireball, incinerating them before they could fire.
He immediately began casting another spell.
"Comet of Cassandora!" Teclis called down a massive comet from the sky, which smashed into the center of an undead warship, destroying its mast and severely damaging the hull.
But when Teclis looked up again, twelve more boarding teams of undead pirates were preparing to board. In addition, the battlefield had taken a turn for the worse. Three more undead warships had closed in, with a dozen regiments of undead pirates standing in neat ranks, ready for the boarding assault. Huge bloated zombies, corrupted crabs, and wights were also closing in!
Aside from one ghost ship that was paralyzed and keeping its distance, the undead fleet had ten more warships approaching steadily.
"Damn it, Ryan and his forces..." Teclis was about to inquire further when the thunderous roar of massive cannons finally filled the air.
"Boom~ Boom Boom Boom~" The dwarven twin and triple-barreled obsidian cannons fired, five explosive shells hitting the approaching undead warships. One ship's hull was blown apart, seawater flooding the lower decks, ensuring its imminent sinking. Another ship's deck was shredded, the explosion killing over a hundred undead pirates and sending their captain flying.
The allied fleet—two ironclads and two sailing ships—had arrived from the rear.
"Get your weapons ready, you fools!" On the Saint Sophia, dwarf master engineer Jerrick Grim was shouting at the Ashen Legion soldiers. "Aim for their heads! Or shoot those flying bloodsuckers!"
The gunners rallied and unleashed a barrage of musket fire, dropping undead pirates into the sea like rain.
"Fire the torpedoes!" Little Sorgelin bellowed aboard the Enterprise. "Now, fire at will! I authorize unlimited ammunition use!"
"Initiate torpedo strike!" Ryan ordered.
Six torpedoes were launched simultaneously. The nearest undead warship took several hits, with plumes of water erupting before black smoke began to billow from its front, halting its advance.
As gunfire and cannon fire rained down upon
the decks and ironclad hulls, the undead found that their attacks could not penetrate the metal armor of the ironclads. On the command deck of the ghost ship, Vaghurst, the loyal servant of Count Noctilus, received a grim report: "Commander, our cannons can't pierce their armor!"
"Close in for boarding!" Vaghurst, now a rotting corpse with a stench of decay, had been a privateer captain in the Empire. His tale was long and tragic, but now, he served Count Noctilus as an undead pirate lord.
The undead pirates readied their hooks and lines, preparing for close combat. Three massive undead warships maneuvered with unnatural speed, flanking the Enterprise, their decks packed with undead soldiers ready for a vicious melee.
As flames and magical energies illuminated the night sky, more undead ships sank, while the allied fleet's Phoenix ship and Randuin sustained heavy damage.
Undead pirate captain Rog Sharkfin eyed the ironclad, envisioning a future where the slain crew would join his undead ranks. Yet, to his surprise, the soldiers aboard this ship were unlike any he'd faced before. The old guard, clad in half-plate armor and wearing bearskin hats, repelled each wave of the undead with brutal efficiency. Even the terrifying monsters of the deep, like wights and giant crabs, were gunned down swiftly.
Suddenly, a figure riding a massive griffon descended from the sky. The fierce beast, Imperius, swept its powerful wings, knocking dozens of undead pirates overboard. The rider, wrapped in lightning and platinum flames, summoned a thunderbolt that obliterated Rog Sharkfin, leaving the undead captain charred and barely alive. He attempted to fire his musket, but the figure moved faster than the bullet. In the next instant, Ryan's hammer came down, shattering the cursed pirate's decayed body and soul.
As the nearby undead pirates fired their muskets, the bolts simply deflected off Ryan's psychic shield. He moved through the horde like a living storm, cutting down the undead with ruthless precision.
"Advance, Old Guard! For Bretonnia! For Ryan-Marcador!" The ship's collision prompted the Old Guard to storm the undead warship. Davout and Raymond led the charge, their pikes and greatswords cutting through the undead pirates with brutal efficiency.
Hoping to turn the tide with a boarding action, the undead pirates had made a fatal miscalculation. The Grey Knight Primarch led the counter-assault personally, and one undead warship was quickly cleared and scuttled. Fugen and his Phoenix Guard even used grappling hooks to board another ship, where they slaughtered every undead pirate in their path with devastating ease. Only the deep-sea guardians offered any real resistance. Fugen, his purple armor and silver hair untouched by blood or grime, elegantly cut through the undead, his movements like a lethal dance.
Soon, three more undead warships were sent to the depths.
At that moment, a haunting melody drifted across the sea. It was a powerful soprano voice, beautiful and mesmerizing, but laced with venomous malice and deep hatred for the living.
Upon hearing the song, Sulia and Julius, along with the Bretonnian knights, turned pale.
"The Song of Bordeleaux!"
"Impossible—wasn't she lost in the shipwreck?"
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