Naval Battle

"There's been no response from the other ship. Should we confirm again?"

"Confirm again," the captain replied to the lookout, while also issuing an order to the first mate beside him. "Tell them below to open the gunports and prepare for battle."

"Understood." The first mate looked eager for action as he hurried lightly toward the lower deck. It seemed it had been a long time since they'd fought a proper battle, and the first mate was itching for one.

"The target isn't slowing down! The target isn't slowing down!" the lookout called urgently.

"Prepare for battle! Let's knock out the claws they're reaching toward us!"

The captain lowered his spyglass, drew the long saber at his waist, raised it over his head, and shouted. Through the spyglass, he'd already seen the two warships at the head of the opposing fleet slowly opening their gunports. It was obvious they meant trouble.

"Prepare for battle!"

"Prepare for battle!"

"..."

At the captain's command, shouts rang out across the ship, one after another. The lookout at the top of the mast blew the warning horn made from a giant seashell at his waist. Its wavering sound carried through the air, bringing the atmosphere of war to a fever pitch.

"What do we do?" Wilton looked at Liam beside him and asked in a low voice.

"Obviously, we watch closely. Facing two enemies alone is a rare opportunity to learn. You'd better remember everything. It'll come in handy if we run into a similar situation in the future."

At this point, Kul Tiras hadn't yet suffered the infighting that would come later, so there was no chance of them fighting among themselves. Since the captain had confirmed the other side wasn't from Kul Tiras and was confident he could take out their vanguard, Liam had no reason to doubt him. He just wanted to watch carefully as his first-ever naval battle happened to unfold before him.

"What about you?" Wilton asked in confusion. He seemed baffled that Liam had stressed that he should be the one to remember everything.

"Me? I'm the captain!" Liam replied as if it were perfectly obvious, though his reasoning was hardly conventional. "When I shout 'Prepare for battle!' the rest is your responsibility."

"So, in your eyes, a captain's only job is to start a war, and he leaves everything else to his subordinates?" Wilton was speechless. Then Coral might as well be the captain.

Thinking of Coral, who'd been locked inside a little box for days, Wilton felt a headache coming on. Coral was shut away every day, and even when let out for a rare bit of fresh air at night, wasn't allowed to speak. He wondered if a few days of that might cause some kind of problem. Coral was already a little dim, and now this...

"Of course. A captain would lose face if he did everything himself." Wilton no longer felt like offering any more advice on the matter, but Liam went on as if his answer made perfect sense.

Wilton didn't believe that was what Liam truly thought. Liam might say he didn't care, but in truth, he watched more closely than anyone. He wanted to catch every last detail, right down to the movements of an ordinary sailor. Even as he spoke, he hadn't taken his eyes off the action for a moment; his eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets.

This guy talks nonsense, but he knows exactly what he's doing. Wilton couldn't help thinking of the scene on Atonement Island, when Liam had casually blown a Syndicate member's head off with a single shot. Wilton had never met anyone so full of contradictions. He couldn't imagine how someone as young as Liam had developed such an odd personality.

The standard gunships in Azeroth had all adopted a new design that concentrated their cannons along both sides of the ship. A royal vessel of Kul Tiras like the Mist of the Maiden was no exception. The Mist of the Maiden was a medium-sized battleship, with two rows of twelve cannons on each side. A single broadside could level a fortress. Against an opponent of equal strength, landing about half the shots would be enough to instantly render them incapable of fighting.

That was why the line-ahead formation had become standard doctrine for the Kul Tiras navy. Fleets were required to form a single column, and commanders were expected to execute the T-shaped maneuver precisely: their own ships formed a horizontal line upwind, while the enemy formed a vertical line downwind, allowing the fleet to unleash the guns on one side against them. The enemy, by contrast, would have to face them head-on with weaker firepower. In theory, successfully taking up that position meant certain victory.

And what were the Kul Tirans best at? Nine out of ten people would answer, "Sailing a ship!" Watching the wheel spin rapidly in the hands of the Mist of the Maiden's captain, Liam finally understood what the title "Maritime Carriage Drivers" really meant!

They really could handle a ship as swiftly and nimbly as a carriage.

In Liam's eyes, the Mist of the Maiden had made just a few consecutive S-shaped turns before somehow taking up the windward position, its broadside lined up perfectly with the leading destroyer.

Liam had hoped to learn something, but before he could even make out the captain's maneuvers, the Mist of the Maiden was already in position for battle.

"Tell the gunners to fire at will! Hit them hard! Take out the one in front first!"

The shout brimmed with confidence. Facing two enemies at once, they didn't even need to fire a coordinated broadside. The captain trusted his gunners completely.

"Boom!" "Boom!" "Boom!" Cannons roared without pause, their thunder shaking the heavens. Since they were firing separately, the recoil wasn't especially strong, but it still rocked Liam and Wilton so badly that they could barely keep their footing. They hurriedly grabbed the railing beside them.

The sailors nearby weren't affected at all. They ran about as steadily as if they were on solid ground, without the slightest hesitation. A young sailor passed the two of them, glanced at them in confusion, and seemed to wonder how anyone could lose their footing during free-fire.

The Kul Tirans were good-natured, so neither of them was subjected to any malicious ridicule. Still, they felt a little embarrassed. Even Liam, thick-skinned as he was, flushed faintly.

He'd claimed he was "the man who would become King of the Pirates," yet here he was, unable even to stay on his feet. The gap between his ideal and reality was far too great!

Just one broadside from the Mist of the Maiden's guns tore the approaching enemy ship into a battered, hole-riddled wreck. Damaged cannons and sailors sprawled in every direction spilled out through the gaping holes.

Ten of the twelve cannonballs had hit. One had even struck the enemy ship's mainmast dead on, snapping it in a single blow. Liam couldn't help clicking his tongue in amazement.

What surprised Liam even more was that the captain didn't seem satisfied with the result.

"You missed two at this range? Looks like you lot have been slacking off lately! Tell the first mate the two who missed are losing their drinks tonight!"

The sailors burst into laughter, clearly delighted by the misfortune of the two unlucky gunners. Two faint grumbles could be heard, but the first mate quickly "suppressed" them from the gun deck.

It took the Mist of the Maiden less than three minutes to sink one ship and reload all its cannons. By then, the enemy ship had just rounded the wreckage of the first and drawn alongside the Mist of the Maiden.