Fire Dragon

"Look, I've fulfilled all your requests!" Lavoisier said to Joseph, patting a machine next to him with a smug look on his face.

This is a machine that isn't very big; it's basically just a large cast iron can with a nozzle.

"How do you use this?" Joseph asked.

"Pour the fuel in through this opening," Lavoisier said. "The Greek Fire of the Eastern Roman Empire was actually just crude petroleum products. By simply fractionating petroleum, you can get some highly flammable byproducts. These are lighter than water, so they can float and burn. Hmm, following your suggestion, I added some sugar, which indeed made the stuff much thicker and able to stick to the target and burn. If it gets sprayed onto the enemy's ship, hahaha, there's almost no way to extinguish it except by covering it with sand, but where do you get so much sand on a ship?"

After examining the object closely, Joseph asked, "How far can this thing shoot?"

"It has a range of about sixty meters in calm conditions," Lavoisier replied.

"So far? How did you manage that?" Joseph asked in surprise.

"Of course it's gunpowder," Lavoisier said. "Gunpowder creates high pressure, and then that pressure is used to propel the fuel out. Otherwise, how could it travel such a distance?"

"Can this thing be refilled?" Joseph asked.

"Of course not. This thing might be okay if it's detonated by gunpowder once, but if it's detonated again, you might be the one who dies. Besides, Joseph, we need to make this clear. When you made the request, you didn't specify that this thing couldn't be disposable," Lavoisier replied without hesitation.

"Damn it! I let that old guy take advantage of me!" Joseph cursed himself inwardly.

"Then can you make a reusable version?" Joseph asked, unwilling to give up.

"Impossible! At least, within the volume and weight range you specified, don't even think about it!" Lavoisier flatly rejected the idea. "Do you think I'm using gunpowder as a pressure source because I have nothing better to do? A forty-meter jet? Good heavens! With such a small volume, there's no other way but to use gunpowder. However, a twenty or thirty-meter jet is possible. But if you want me to do it, you'll have to pay more."

"Hmm, I think this one is pretty good too. A ship can easily carry two. With two like this, it should be enough to give the Britain a run for their money," Joseph said immediately. Many of the technical hurdles for this device have already been overcome; the remaining work on other types can be left to those who can offer cheaper prices.

"Hmm, can we try it out?" Seeing that Lavoisier seemed to still be interested in pursuing further projects, Joseph quickly changed the subject.

Captain Morel's clipper ship "Flora" was loaded with various cargoes and ready to depart for Ireland. Recently, there had been an increasing number of Britain clipper ships in the waters near Ireland. These cunning Britain often disguised themselves as France ships, and sometimes even pretended to have just been in battle, wounded by the Britain, and in dire need of help, to lure France clipper ships close before launching an attack.

However, Morel wasn't too worried about this tactic, because ever since that Netherlands Dutchman had learned his lesson, all the captains of the France clipper ships heading to Ireland had a little notebook. This notebook recorded their ship's hull number and the corresponding signal flags they should fly on the corresponding day and month. Because each ship's hull number was different, and the signal flags they were supposed to fly each day were different, the Britain disguise was practically useless.

Of course, the Britain could have simply pursued them. After all, if they encountered them on the way to Ireland, their ships would be lighter, making it difficult to shake them off. If the Britain hadn't been less familiar with these ships, often failing to fully utilize their capabilities, the France losses by now would have been far more than just the cargo thrown overboard to lighten their load.

Just as the Floréal was about to leave the dock, a carriage pulled up beside the ship. Four men from the carriage showed Morel an identification document, said something to Morel, and then carried two tightly packed bags from the carriage onto the ship.

After these people boarded the ship, the Floréal left the dock and sailed out to sea.

The four men boarded the boat and took the two objects to the bow and stern, where they busied themselves. After most of the day, the two strange objects were assembled.

"What is this?" Morel asked.

"Greek Fire, ever heard of it?" a bearded man replied, his accent heavy, clearly from the Lower Rhine region.

"Greek Fire? You mean that thing from the Byzantium era? Wasn't that thing lost?" Morel clearly knew this history.

"It's back in our hands," the bearded man replied with a hint of pride. "With this, you won't have to worry about running into the Britain anymore."

"The Britain should be careful not to run into us," said another man who was missing a finger on one hand.

"It's not easy to run into Britain," Morel said. "At least, I've never had one."

Perhaps it was the flag Morel raised that had an effect. Well, generally speaking, people who are at sea are better off not talking carelessly, otherwise, it's easy to run into trouble. For example, someone might say, "Even God can't sink this ship," and then God might send an iceberg to them.

The day after Morel uttered those words, early in the morning, just as the sun rose above the horizon, the lookout on the Floréal sounded the alarm, "Clipper sighted, thirty degrees to starboard!"

Captain Morel rushed to the deck, raised his binoculars and looked in that direction, and sure enough, he saw a clipper ship approaching.

"Hull number 15, Edward, check what signal flags this ship should be flying today," Captain Morel said to the first mate.

"It should be yellow from front to back, then blue, and the highest point should be green," the first mate replied.

"Ha, the Britain. They really have come." Captain Morel shook his head.

"Are they Britain?" At that moment, the four people who had boarded the ship just before departure also climbed out of their cabins onto the deck.

"Yes, they are Britain," Morel replied. Although he had a secret weapon, it was still better to avoid fighting if possible.

"Are they approaching us?" the bearded man said.

"Yes, they put up a flag and begged us for help. Ha, trying to fool us," Morel said.

"Get close, keep about fifty meters away, and we'll give them a good whack. Your boat isn't as fast as theirs, and you might not be able to escape if you just run. Why don't you pretend to fall for their trap, and then give them a good beating when they're off guard?"

Morel thought for a moment, then asked, "Is your stuff reliable?"

"Don't worry, this thing is amazing," the bearded man said. "We've tested it many times."

So Morel ordered the Floréal to meet them, and deliberately slowed down.

The other boat also slowed down. The two boats got closer and closer, soon closing to less than a hundred meters apart.

"Shout over there and ask them what's wrong, try to put them on the edge of their seats," Morel said.

So one of the sailors shouted in that direction, "What's wrong with you?"

"We've encountered the Britain. The ship's doctor is dead, and others are injured. Could your doctor come and help?" The person on the other side replied in French.

"This French is quite similar," said the man missing a finger. "Adock's accent is even more standard."

"His accent is more standard than mine? Are you praising him or mocking him?" the bearded man laughed nonchalantly.

"Okay, move closer!"

As they chatted and laughed, the two boats continued to approach each other, the distance between them quickly decreasing from less than 100 meters to less than 50 meters, and then to less than 40 meters.

Just then, the bearded man ripped off the canvas covering the flamethrower mounted on the bow of the ship, revealing it. With a sharp whistle, a long fire dragon leaped across the sea and hurtled toward the Britain clipper ship.

In the blink of an eye, the Britain ship was engulfed in flames.

"Full sails! Port three!" Morel quickly gave the order.

Now that he has set the Britain ship on fire, the most important thing is to quickly distance himself from the Britain, lest they run into him.

However, the danger was actually not great. Firstly, the attack was completely unexpected by the Britain. Secondly, the attack was extremely effective. The large amount of viscous fuel that caused the fire also ignited the sails of the Britain ship, making it difficult to maneuver.

A little further away, people saw that the Britain initially tried to use buckets to scoop up seawater to put out the fire. However, this effort had the opposite effect; the fuel floated on the surface, drifted with the current, and ignited more areas. The fire quickly spiraled out of control. One by one, the Britain began jumping into the sea from their ships. Many of them were already engulfed in orange flames when they jumped in.

The fire spread rapidly, and in no time, several masts of the ship broke and collapsed in the flames. Then the hull itself quickly disintegrated and crumbled in the fire.

"What about the Britain?" Morel asked, pointing to some Britain sailors struggling at sea.

"To hell with them!" the bearded man said.

"It wouldn't be right to stand by and watch them die," Morel said. "We'll be in Ireland soon anyway; once we get Ireland, we can just hand them over to the Ireland."

"Oh, is that so?" the bearded man said. "Well, I don't object to that approach. However, from a humanitarian perspective, I think you might as well not rescue them."