Chapter 60: Rafting

Chapter 60: Rafting

“They really came!”

The Crete Provincial Commander heaved a sigh of relief when he spotted war ships flying the blood twin-headed eagle flag in the distance.

Senator Vernier had previously approached him and requested him to follow her plans. He had wanted to reject her, knowing that their military might was insufficient to fill the pit known as the Khitans.

Venice only had a population of around 200,000. How many soldiers could they put together even if they requested reinforcement from allied cities?

And if they lost the last few soldiers they had on hand, Venice would be helpless against aggressors.

Yet, Senator Vernier’s plan made perfect sense.

It was one thing for them to be unable to beat the Khitans on land, but if they were afraid to confront them in the sea too, were they going to wait for the Khitans to arrive at Venice before finally making a move?

Besides, with the rest of the Balkans going up in flames, it was even more important for them to ensure that no mishap happened to an important strategic location like Crete.

We have to fight!

We must seal the Khitans off from the sea, then stoke a war between the Khitans and the Holy Romain Empire and Hungary.

That’s the only way we can survive!

Thus, the Crete Provincial Commander decided to execute Vernier’s plan.

He gathered all of his forces, which totaled 20 galleys and 3000 seamen. That was all of the troops Venice had that could still be mobilized in this region.

3000 seamen might not seem much, but they were Venice’s trump card. It would be unwise to see them in the same light as those incompetent mercenaries they had recruited.

“It’s as the Senator said. The Khitan Caesar’s arrogance knows no bounds. He dares to chase after us regardless of the terrain,” the Crete Provincial Commander murmured.

Then, he drew his sword and roared, “My fellow brethren, this is the critical moment that determines the fate of our homeland. Those barbarians threaten to devour Venice’s glory, fortune, and livelihood. But we, Venetians, will never bow!

“The Khitans’ cavalrymen might be powerful, but the sea belongs to Venice!

“Bring out your courage today, for this will be the day we will plunge those vile barbarians into the bottom of the sea! We shall show them Venice’s true might!

“Set off!”

At his command, the twenty galleys raised their sails and charged toward the blood twin-headed eagle flag like released arrows.

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How could a horse jump so high? How could a horse jump so far?

My lord, when did cavalrymen find a place in naval battles too?! To think that the Khitan Caesar can fly too!

Bam!

Upon successfully landing on the Venetian galley, Shu Yichao rampaged with his spear, skewering the Venetian seamen in their chests, throats, and necks. Those who were at the back of the galley only saw a blur before their comrades collapsed.

“A-ah...”

The Venetians witnessing this sight were dumbfounded.

But it wasn’t over yet.

Tok!

Shu Yichao suddenly raised his spear high up before plunging it down through the wooden deck. Blood splattered alongside wooden splinters. That plunge of his spear had killed one of the oarsmen beneath the deck!

The other oarsmen stiffened in horror. How could they not be terrified after witnessing their comrade being skewered by a metal spear from above?!

Is our reinforced wooden deck that flimsy that a spear can easily pierce through it?

The ridiculousness of the situation caused their minds to stall to a halt.

They watched as the bloodied spear was pulled out from their comrade’s corpse and out of the deck. Relief momentarily washed over them till it occurred to them that they were the next ones to be skewered.

So, the oarsmen beneath the deck started running around like headless chickens.

Meanwhile, Shu Yichao swiftly galloped around the deck and skewered the oarsmen beneath. Their locations appeared as red dots on his minimap, allowing him to accurately snipe them with his spear.

Holes were swiftly bored through the wooden deck, and the creation of each hole was accompanied by screams of despair and fresh blood.

It was as if Shu Yichao was a farmer plowing through a wooden field with his metal plow, just that he was reaping crops instead of sowing seeds.

After two rounds around the deck, he retrieved his spear and shook off the blood on it.

He eyed the remaining Venetian galleys with eagle eyes.

No one laughed. No one cried. No one made a sound.

There was not a second sound on the battlefield aside from the waves.