Hiding behind a giant rock, Coleridge Roy had planned to have his men fire first to wear down the marines.
He never expected their attack to be so fierce.
A storm of bullets swept over the beach, forcefully suppressing the pirates.
None of them dared to stick their heads out and return fire.
While still on the ship, Momonga had already determined the pirates' general positions.
His combat experience allowed him to react instantly, nipping any potential counterattack in the bud.
Row after row of marines stood in neat lines: firing, stepping back to reload, as the next line advanced to fire.
This was a tactic proposed by Raleigh.
Originating from his old world, it was the "Line Infantry Tactic" that had dominated the flintlock era for centuries.
On those battlefields, two formations would exchange volleys until one side broke.
Because the tactic appeared so rigid, some might have jokingly called it the "line up and get shot" strategy.
But it was the pinnacle of flintlock tactics, designed to compensate for the slow firing rate and poor accuracy of the muskets.
Its only drawback was that it required fearless soldiers who would follow commands without question, unable to even assist comrades who fell beside them.
And on this ship, fearless soldiers were exactly what they had in abundance.
Their hatred for pirates far outweighed their fear of death.
Using this tactic, they had already eliminated several powerful pirate crews that dominated the East Blue.
Not long ago, they had cornered over three hundred pirates from the Great Axe crew.
Facing such a large charge, even Momonga thought they would need reinforcements.
But Raleigh insisted he use the tactic.
Before the three hundred pirates could even reach the marines, the volleys had inflicted unparalleled casualties.
Over a hundred were killed or wounded, breaking the crew's will to resist.
In the subsequent rout, Momonga led the soldiers to annihilate the rest.
The marines, however, were unaware the tactic came from Raleigh.
They believed it was Commander Momonga's genius, and regarded him with near-religious reverence.
Momonga himself, upon returning, had highly praised the strategy and held Raleigh, its originator, in even higher esteem.
Raleigh paid it no mind.
The tactic had been tested and refined for ages.
Against ordinary pirates in this world—where firearms were still predominantly rudimentary flintlocks—it was an overwhelmingly superior strategy.
Raleigh didn't have time to ponder the strange technological mix of this world; he barely had enough time to sleep each day.
His mindset was the same as his brother, Borsalino: the Marines was just a job.
"Damn marines, just you wait!"
"Marine scum!"
"Men, show some spirit! Cut these bastards down!"
"Kill one marine, and you'll be rewarded with a woman! Kill three, and you're an officer!"
The furious Coleridge Roy roared from behind the rock.
After five volleys, several unlucky pirates who had been exposed were already dead.
The marines were now less than thirty meters away.
At this range, the time for volley fire was over.
They set down their flintlocks and drew gleaming military sabers from their waists.
Momonga took the lead, unsheathing his own saber and shouting.
"Prepare for melee combat!"
Noticing the gunfire fading, Coleridge Roy cautiously peered out.
When he saw the marines swarming toward them like a tide, his humiliation turned to rage.
"Men, they're coming! Cut them down!"
With that, he charged out, brandishing a massive cleaver.
Seeing their captain's bravery, the surrounding pirates drew their weapons and followed him into the fray.
"Kill!"
"Charge! Wipe out these government dogs!"
In contrast, the charging marines offered no bold declarations.
Their cold expressions showed only contempt.
The two forces collided.
In an instant, the air filled with the pungent scent of blood.
The sound of clashing blades rang out, punctuated by the wet thud of steel piercing flesh and the agonized cries of the fallen.
In mere moments, the pirate formation was shattered.
Coleridge Roy, who had been at the forefront, glanced around and realized most of his crew were already dead or dying.
"Useless fools!" he roared. "Fight with everything you've got! The marines will never let us go!"
Driven by the threat of death, the disorganized pirates erupted with a burst of desperate strength, briefly halting the marines' slaughter.
"Kill them all!"
"Follow the captain!"
Watching the pirates descend into a desperate frenzy, Momonga swiftly cut down one blocking his path and shouted.
"Triple encirclement tactic!"
This was another strategy taught to him by Raleigh.
The principle was simple: in close combat, transform one-on-one duels into a coordinated three-on-one "gang-up."
The pirates fought with desperate ferocity, but their individual courage was no match for the marines' disciplined, coordinated attacks, which were cutting them down relentlessly.
Momonga had long since set his sights on Coleridge Roy.
After locking eyes, both of them simultaneously accelerated toward each other.
Coleridge Roy knew that capturing the enemy commander was his only path to victory.
Momonga, in turn, had found his true opponent.
Their blades clashed, sending sparks flying.
"Damn Marine," Coleridge Roy sneered. "You're just a mere Commander but you have such formidable strength. Truly impressive. Unfortunately, a young officer like you is destined to die by my hand."
Momonga paid him no mind, instead attacking like a cold, unfeeling killing machine, his sword a blur.
With their captain occupied, the remaining pirates were like headless flies.
Under the marines' high morale and superior tactics, they had no way to fight back.
One by one, they were slain on the beach.
The marines, acting as ruthless killing machines, left a trail of bodies on the blood-soaked sand, some pirates left with severed limbs, writhing in agony.
Despair finally surfaced in the pirates' minds.
"I surrender... I surrender!"
"I was wrong, Marine-sir, please spare me!"
"Sir, I have a seven-year-old son at home! Please, let me go!"
Faced with such brutal efficiency, the pirates' bravado shattered.
Realizing they could neither win nor escape, they could only kneel and beg.
However, the marines showed no reaction.
They had heard every plea for mercy before.
Commander Momonga never took prisoners, so they simply acted as if they heard nothing, and continued their work.