Chapter 303: Fireball

Chapter 303: Fireball

As the Verduic war began in earnest, Phuyu looked on in shock. In the distance, the cannon fire still continued, but apart from him, no one on the Medalan flagship seemed concerned.

“Laqhis, we have confirmation of their numbers.”

Right after the start of the battle, the captain of their ship came towards advisor Phuyu and the king to give a report.

“Go ahead,” the king replied, though his eyes were still trained on the distant battle.

“Right. So, at the moment, there's five galleons that have moved into the atoll. They're flying Cahlian flags, and the numbers add up, so it's probably the same small fleet we've seen scouting around Rasacopa before.”

“The ones who tried to attack us when we first came here?” The king asked, and the captain nodded in response.

“This time, they've also brought another ten Verdant raidships with them.”

“Only fifteen ships in total?” a confused Phuyu asked. After all, the king's fleet had left Rasacopa's harbor with ten ships. While their enemies had an advantage in numbers, the verdant raidships were usually smaller than the giant vessels from the east. Although the Verdant Folk were masters of naval combat, their fifteen ships were, at best, comparable to the king's fleet of ten.

“It's even worse,” the captain explained. “Those verdant galleys are much smaller in size than the cahlian galleons, let alone ours. Even worse, they don't usually hold cannons, and are propelled mostly through rudders, rather than sails. Even if I'm being generous, those ten galleys probably equal two or three of our brigantines at most.”

While Phuyu was still shocked by the captain's poor estimate of the verdant raidships, the king had already drawn his conclusions.

“They're probably bait then,” he said.

“That's what I thought,” the captain agreed. “They should have some more ships hidden around, either somewhere hidden behind these islands, or farther away, where we can't see them. But they'll still be close enough to see some signals from their advanced group. Either way, I expect they'll move in once we're hooked. With the few ships they brought now, they're probably trying to give us hope. Attack our three ships with just enough that they can't hope to fight back, but so few that our original ten would still beat them, or at least could guarantee a retreat. Then, once they've lured all of us into the atoll, they close off the waterways with their reinforcements and wipe us out all at once.”

“Well, that's not gonna end well for them.”

Again, the king raised his telescope to observe the battle. In response, Phuyu did the same. In the distance, the false king had reached his ship despite the cannon fire and climbed aboard. At the same time, the decoy ships had raised their sails and lifted their anchors.

Meanwhile, the large, Oriental ships that the captain had called 'galleons' had begun to circle the decoys in a wide berth and continued to bombard them with occasional cannon fire from their bows and sterns, though their accuracy seemed low. Water splashed all around the decoys, but so far he hadn't seen any solid hits. Even so, they had begun to fire back, with similar intensity and similar results.

As the big galleons and brigantines were trading blows, the verdant raidships had begun to close in. In their naval battles, the Verdant Folk weren't too fond of cannons and rarely used them. For one, the cannons that they could use before were the ones they would buy or plunder from the Chutwa Empire, but those weapons were far less reliable than their Arcavian copies.

Not only were they inaccurate when used at great distance, they were also at risk of exploding and setting the ship on fire with every single blast. Even more, ships that were sunk by cannons couldn't be captured, nor could the valuable goods loaded within be looted once the ship was at the bottom of the ocean.

As a result, the Verdant Folk still preferred the old methods: To close in under the cover of arrow fire and spear throws, sometimes in an effort to ram the enemy vessel, before they would board them and wipe out their crews.

It was a tactic they had perfected over many generations of raiding, and one that had made them the overlords of the Verduic Sea and the terror of the countries around them. Thus, the raidships did what they did best, and began to circle around the decoys to attack them from the sides and from behind.

However, the medalan brigantines ignored the dangerous raidships, despite their fierce reputation, and focused their fire on the Oriental vessels in the distance. In fact, as soon as the verdant ships had moved out of the way, they even adjusted their sails and rushed at the Orientals at full mast.

The move caught everyone by surprise, including the observing advisor Phuyu. In haste, the Verdant Folk tried to turn and cut off the Medalan decoys' path, but their earlier momentum continued to carry them forward, despite the strength of their oarsmen. Thus, suddenly, the Medalans charged at the Orientals at breakneck speeds, and the Verdant Folk could only try their hardest to catch up.

Unlike the Verdant Folk, the Orientals seemed unfazed by the sudden move. They still continued to sail at a steady pace and fire their cannon. They only slightly adjusted their course, which would cause them to brush past the incoming ships at close distance. Maybe, Phuyu thought, that was how these cannon ships fought: Circling each other while firing their cannons, maybe attempting to maneuver behind the other side's stern to fire at their rudders. Surely, a moving target would be harder to hit. Even more, if they swerved to the side too much, their back may be exposed by another sudden move from the decoys.

However, once again, their next actions surprised Phuyu. Again, the decoys adjusted their own course, rushing straight for the oriental ships once more. It seemed like the Orientals were just as surprised as the advisor was. For a moment, there was no response at all to the move, as they simply held course. All they could do was watch, as the inertia of the three decoys shoved them towards the broadsides of three oriental galleons.

One singular verdant raidship, its crew no doubt elites amongst the verdant warriors, managed to latch on to one of the decoys, its hooks clawing into the railing, its ropes hauling the ship in like a fisherman's giant catch. But the brigantine with its massive body did not stop, and the verdant ship was simply dragged along. In the end, both the decoy and the raidship crashed into the side of the oriental galleon. Seconds later, the other two decoys followed, and did the same to two more oriental ships. After three bone-chilling sounds of crunching and and banging, the seven ships turned into a tangled mess of wood and cloth.

Soon, screams joined in with the infernal noise. Warriors from both sides ran around the deck in confusion and tried to organize some sort of response. While the warriors of the Verdant Folk tried to climb up the high railing of the decoy brigantine, the men aboard hacked and sawed away at the ropes that connected the two.

On one of the oriental ships, Phuyu saw a man stumble over the railing and into the waves below. Around them, the other verdant raidships had already turned and were on their way to reinforce their allies. All of a sudden, the battle had turned into a mess, and the Medalans were at its center.

“King, would it not be time to save the men?” With trepidation, Phuyu watched as the decoy ships were getting surrounded, the handful of men aboard in dire straits. He couldn't simply continue to stand by and watch his allies lose their lives for nothing, so the advisor decided to remind the king of his responsibilities.

“No, it's still too early. Let them entangle properly.” Although he said so, the king's eyes never left the distant battle, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

At least he does not enjoy the death of his men, Phuyu thought. Even so, his worry wouldn't subside, not least because a defeat could endanger his own life as well. Though for now, all he could do was continue to observe. Yet before he could even put up his telescope again, another voice from the back interrupted him.

“Laqhis, it's time,” the captain of their ship reminded the king, who nodded in response.

“Signal the other ships, and have them close in,” Corcopaca said. “Make sure you seal off the exits, and let them hurry. I want to be in firing range by the time our people have to evacuate their ships. From now on, you have full authority over the fleet's operation, until the end of the mission.”

“Understood, King Corco.”

Their interaction confused Phuyu. Wouldn't the king be in charge of leading the fleet? Since he was present for the battle, how could he just hand over his authority like this? To Phuyu's surprise, their sloppy captain gave a proper reply for once, and a proper salute, but didn't question the decision at all. Full of sudden energy, he turned and began to bark orders at his men, who replied without cease. Not long after, their ship began to move into the atoll.

By the time they had closed in on the battle, the scenes in the center of the atoll had already become desperate. Stuck into the flanks of the Orientals, the medalan ships had fired their cannons into the enemy galleons from point blank range again and again. In preparation for this scenario, the cannons of the Medalans seemed concentrated at their bow, ready to destroy the enemies they had pierced before.

After they had rammed the enemy ship, they were in the perfect position to fill the enemy hulls with more holes. However, their opponents could do no such thing. Since most of naval combat with cannon boats was about mobility, the Orientals seemed to have stationed their cannons at their own sterns and bows. However, three of their ships had all been hit in their flanks, which meant that they had no cannons in position to fire back. They would have to transport their own arms from the front and back to the sides before they could reply the attack. But by that time, the Medalans would have plenty more chances for unreplied fire. For the Orientals, it was a disaster.

Compared to the fruitless actions of the foreigners, the Verdant warriors were, predictably, more capable. To turn the tide of battle in their favor, the remaining ships had deftly turned and rowed towards the three decoy ships without fear. Not long after, most of the raidships had sucked onto the brigantines like a giant sea beast, and Verdant Folk had begun to clamber up the side of the hulls.

Without any more room to latch on, a few of them continued to circle and look for openings to join the battle, though their help seemed unnecessary. With their advantage in numbers and their bravery, the verdant raiders overcame the brigantine's high railings and soon reached the main decks. Chaotic melee broke out all over the three decoy ships, man against man in a violent clash.

In response, the two remaining oriental ships who had escape the ramming attack became as useless as their allies and stopped firing as well. After all, with the mess the central battlefield had become, they were just as likely to kill their own as they were to kill the enemy.

Action from the Orientals was unnecessary either way, considering the strength of the Verdant Folk and their numerical advantage. Soon, Phuyu noticed that the fights of all three ships began to concentrate around the stern sides of the decoys, where the remaining defenders had pulled together to form one last combative circle.

Just as the advisor thought the remaining men would be wiped out and their decoy would be for naught, he heard a whistle from behind him. Someone had fired a weapon into the air, and so a red glow like the evening sun rose into the sky with a trail of smoke, clearly visible for everyone in the atoll to see.

When Phuyu's fascinated eyes returned to the battle, the defenders had already begun to flee the ship. All at once, they abandoned their posts and jumped into the waters below. Yet only now was the main part of Medala's fleet in any position to fire on their enemies.

Just when he thought that the first part of the battle was over and that the true fight was about to begin, another surprise ended everything, within a moment. A bright flash turned the world inside the telescope to light, and soon a bang to shatter Phuyu's ears followed. A giant convulsion, like an earthquake, shook their ship and swept him off his feet.

Confused and scared, the advisor clambered back to his feet and searched the battlefield again, or whatever was left of it. Moments before, the battle had been fought on a complicated mesh of enemy and friendly vessels, entangled in a chaos of rope and wood.

Now, the scene had turned into a fireball, obscene in its size and ominous in its nature. The distant wind carried the screams of pain from the battle over to them and made Phuyu's blood run cold. His whole body shuddered, his mind blank. Just as he thought that the battle would begin in earnest, it had ended in a bang. Weak in his knees, the old man sank back down, hiding below the railing. May the foreigners call him weak, but at least in this position, he would no longer have to witness the carnage.