Formidable Ships and Powerful Cannons

Twenty years ago, when he was a young sailor, he came here on an old Warship.

The mission that time was to bomb the port—specifically, the dwarven port.

This mission also involves dwarves.

"Take over the ports of Western Ink first," the captain said. "Then send men to make contact with the upper echelons of the Ximo Civilization. Tell them we're not here to fight."

The first mate paused for a moment.

"So we've come here to..."

"They're here to do business," the captain said with a slight smile. "And, while they're at it, to see their dwarf friends."

Using a fleet for business has been surprisingly effective.

West Coast of the Yunmeng Continent. Ximo Port.

Built more than twenty years ago, the port is one of only two outlets to the sea for the Ximo Civilization. The wharf is three miles long and can accommodate twenty ships at the same time.

Warehouses stood in rows, cranes lined the streets, and Steam rumbled back and forth, transporting goods.

Today is an ordinary day.

On the watchtower at the pier, a sentry was dozing against the railing. The sun was warm and the sea breeze was gentle; it was the perfect time for an afternoon nap.

With the Alert Spell and Eagle Eye Spells available, these traditional sentinels have long since had their niches replaced by mages.

But his father was the head of the port. That position was his.

The sentry groggily opened his eyes, trying to turn over.

Then he froze.

A dark shadow appeared on the horizon. At the same time, piercing alarms sounded in the port.

The dark shape grew closer and larger. A dozen ships, lined up in neat formation, sailed toward the harbor. Those ships were larger than any he had ever seen, their hulls black, their cannons densely packed, and their flags fluttering.

The sentry rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things, before being instantly struck by a fireball.

The fireball was strange. It was injected with high temperature, but it didn't explode. His body deformed slightly, like a heated decompression ball, and then melted into a lump of paste, flowing down the watchtower's railing.

Chaos erupted at the dock. Workers abandoned their cargo and ran into the city, sailors jumped onto ships to escape the port, and soldiers rushed to the gun emplacements, frantically loading ammunition.

But it was too late.

The fleet came to a stop.

Then, artillery fire erupted.

"Boom--!"

Hundreds of cannons opened fire simultaneously, raining down shells. The port's fortifications were reduced to ruins before they could even fire. Warehouses burst into flames, cranes collapsed, and Steam were overturned.

After three rounds of shelling, the port was completely paralyzed.

As the smoke cleared, a Capital Ship slowly sailed into the harbor.

Dozens of landing craft were lowered onto its sides. Fully armed soldiers jumped onto the pier and quickly occupied key positions.

The Steam Armored Soldiers trudged off the Warship, their chainsaw swords humming, while the accompanying mages followed behind, their staffs gleaming.

The whole process took less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

Ximo Port has fallen.

A temporary command post was set up in the port's largest warehouse.

The captain sat on a wooden crate, listening to his subordinates' reports.

"The port is now completely under our control. The enemy has suffered approximately 200 casualties, while we have suffered zero casualties. The supplies inside the port are being inventoried, which is expected to take three days."

The captain nodded.

What was the reaction from the Ximo Civilization?

"They've sent a messenger," the subordinate said. "He's waiting outside."

"Let him in."

A moment later, a middle-aged man dressed in a black robe was brought in.

The man was pale and sweating profusely, but he forced himself not to tremble as he walked up to the captain and bowed.

"A diplomat from the Ximo Civilization greets the envoy."

The captain narrowed his eyes slightly.

Even if the port was bombed, would that only amount to "an envoy"?

She's very magnanimous.

"You seem somewhat familiar..."

The man in black robes nodded repeatedly:

"We met at this port twenty years ago, and you asked me quite a few questions back then!"

Upon hearing the man in black say this, the captain instantly recalled the time twenty years ago when he bombed the dwarf port, back when he was just a crew member.

"It's you." The captain nodded. "Have a seat."

"The envoy's visit this time is..."

"We're here to do business," the captain said.

The man in the black robe paused for a moment.

"Doing business... doing business with gunfire?"

The captain smiled.

"That was just to let you know we're here," he said.

He stood up, walked up to the man in black robes, and looked down at him.

"I've heard that you have trade relations with the Dwarf Civilization?"

"Yes... yes."

"Very good," the captain said. "Go back and tell your Boss that the Suguang Civilization wants to establish formal trade relations with you. What you want—food, metals, technology—we have it all. What we want..."

He paused.

"The Magic Spring Ore of the Dwarf Civilization. And your severing of ties with the dwarves."

The news reached the Dwarf Empire on the very day that Cloudmo Port was destroyed.

The dwarves' city was built inside the mountain. Huge stone gates, wide passages, and mechanisms made of countless gears and levers operated day and night.

In the center of the city stood a colossal furnace, Burn ceaselessly day and night, forging all sorts of machinery. The furnace's flames illuminated the entire underground space, bathing everything in a warm orange-red hue.

Beside the furnace lies a strange area. There, one finds various wondrous Mana industries: Mana refining towers, Mana storage tanks, and Mana- powered devices. There are also all sorts of bizarre and grotesque creatures.

Those creatures didn't seem to belong to this world at all; some had three eyes, some had four arms, and some were covered in scales.

Inside the council chamber, the dwarven high-ranking officials sat around a huge stone table.

"In that case, let's start the war." The dwarven governor spoke slowly after understanding the situation.

The fleet of Tracing Light did not stay in Ximo Port for long.

They replenished their fresh water supply, unloaded some miscellaneous items, replenished their living supplies, and then set sail again.

Unexpectedly, the dwarves also sent a fleet.

It looks a bit like a transport ship and a fishing boat.

After a round of bombardment, most of the dwarf's "fleet" sank. Those wooden ships were as fragile as paper in the face of steel cannonballs.

However, acquiring the port still required considerable effort.

The dwarven port was filled with various mechanical structures and defensive devices, most of which they did not recognize. The dwarven technology was slightly different from theirs, and several people died.

After completely destroying the port, Tracing Light left, leaving the powerful mages and artillery arrays that came to support him empty-handed.

For the next month, the dwarves completely lost track of the whereabouts of the Tracing Light fleet, just like twenty years ago, when Tracing Light blew up the port and ran away.

But when the dwarves rebuilt their port and recycled the remaining ships...

The fleet of the Suguang Civilization reappeared, destroying the port and even most of the remaining dwarf ships.

The dwarven leaders roared and slammed their fists on the table during the meeting:

"How do you squeeze it, Old Bei?!"

"Tracing Light--!"