Unexpected Opponents

It was obvious that the pirates' fleet hadn't expected to be so easily defeated despite outnumbering their opponents two to one. Such naval prowess would have been among the best even in Kul Tiras's fleet, and the Mist of the Maiden's combat strength left the pirates baffled.

Now that Morton had summoned a massive Water Elemental, the pirates were even more alarmed. When they'd taken the job, nobody had told them there was a Tidesage aboard their target's ship. And judging by his power, he was clearly a high-ranking Tidesage.

Though these clerics weren't especially strong in combat, what they could do at sea far surpassed what other practitioners of the same rank could manage. Their usefulness was comparable to that of a hero-tier being.

Now that the pirates had engaged, they could only line up and brace themselves for a head-on collision.

"See that? That's a Tidesage. Your assignment this time is to go get us one." Liam patted Wilton on the shoulder, sounding as casual as if he were telling him to steal a cabbage, rather than kidnap a whole person in broad daylight.

"Another job for me... So what are you going to do this time?" Wilton couldn't be bothered to complain about Liam's hands-off ways anymore. He just asked outright.

"Obviously, I'm going to make some money. Building a big ship takes more than a few tens of thousands of gold coins. And the equipment, cannons, weapons, dishes, and sails will add up to an astronomical sum. Just the two of us could go 'rob the rich to help the poor' every day and still have no idea when we'd scrape together enough to build a ship like the Mist of the Maiden."

Liam looked at Wilton with a wistful expression, as if to say, "You don't know the cost of running a household." Wilton could only stare back at him in speechless disbelief.

"Besides, I don't want a 'little ship' like the Mist of the Maiden. I want something bigger than Daelin Proudmoore's Sea Power, a flagship-class battleship with three main masts and one mizzenmast, four square-rigged sails, at least three decks, and a hundred cannons..."

"Why don't you tell me what you're planning to do about that Tidesage first?" Wilton hurriedly interrupted Liam's wild fantasies. The kind of ship he was describing didn't exist in Kul Tiras. Even at the height of the elven civilization, probably nobody had ever considered building one.

It wasn't a matter of money or technology. This world had too many strategic weapons capable of mass destruction. Fleets relied on numbers. Tonnage might be useful in a naval battle, but a single powerful mage could easily destroy a giant ship like that.

Wilton was so unconvinced because he had no idea what kind of insane plan Liam had in mind, or what sort of ship he intended to build...

"All right, since you've asked so sincerely... I'll tell you. To sum it up in one sentence, I need you to go somewhere and study for a while."

"Study again? The first time I went with you, I ended up studying for three years. Now I can't even go home, and you want me to study something else? Don't tell me you're planning to make me one of these damn Tidesages. How long would that take? Look at Brother Morton! He's got a whole beard!"

Wilton could no longer keep his cool. He nearly jumped to his feet—not for any other reason than that Liam was simply too unreliable!

Liam was just about to explain his "perfect" plan when a deafening BOOM made both men jump. They'd been speaking in hushed, furtive tones.

During their conversation, the Mist of the Maiden had raced into the enemy fleet's firing range. Even with the enemy holding the T-shaped position, she had launched a full-speed assault on the blockade.

The weakness of the line-ahead tactic was that it could only bring the guns on one side to bear. The so-called T-position meant engaging with one side's firepower, which called for precise cannon volleys.

The Mist of the Maiden's tactic was to pass between the head or tail of the enemy line, weather one round of cannon fire, then unleash the full force of her guns on both sides as she passed through the enemy fleet.

Normally, this tactic required reloading before turning back around to make a wave-like, curving attack. Against a line of enemy ships, it relied on nimble maneuvering and overwhelming bursts of firepower. The Mist of the Maiden's shorter length made her quicker to react and more agile, allowing her to keep attacking whichever section of the enemy fleet had been damaged. This was more like guerrilla warfare at sea, and it was the most effective way to counter line-ahead tactics.

But the Mist of the Maiden was trying to break through, not get drawn into a long fight. So she wasn't using guerrilla tactics. She was charging straight ahead, fighting her way through!

"On my command, keep only one round's worth of powder for the cannons. Throw all the supplies overboard!"

The captain of the Mist of the Maiden raised his saber and shouted his orders.

"Keep only one round's worth of powder! Throw all the supplies overboard!"

The first mate shouted the order down the line. Commands rang out one after another as the sailors sprang into action. They hauled the fresh water, food, and barrels of rum out of the hold and threw them overboard on both sides of the ship. They carried out the command without the slightest hesitation.

Anyone who made a living at sea knew that even the weight of one barrel of rum could slow the Mist of the Maiden down, if only a little. And that little bit of speed could mean the difference between heaven and hell.

"Mr. Zank, judging by the situation, our opponent is no ordinary sailor. If we're going to complete the job this time, we may have to trouble you to step in."

On the battleship, a pirate who was clearly dressed as a captain spoke in a low voice to a middle-aged man beside him, who wore a hooded robe. His respectful tone made it clear the man was someone of considerable status.

"I came along to make sure we were covered in case something went wrong. Even if you hadn't asked, I'd have stepped in. But as for my fee..." Mr. Zank replied, the hooded man looking as if he'd expected this all along.

"No problem. Just name your price." The captain had nothing to say. They'd already suffered heavy losses. If they still couldn't bring down their target, they'd have no choice but to leave Kul Tiras and seek their fortune elsewhere.

"Good." Mr. Zank said only that, then paced over to the side of the ship facing the Mist of the Maiden.

He drew an arm-length staff from his robe. The incantation he recited was much shorter than Brother Morton's prayers.

As the blue light in Zank's hand grew brighter, a cloud suddenly appeared in the previously cloudless sky. It hung less than ten meters above sea level, covering a stretch of water in the Mist of the Maiden's path.

As the cloud appeared, the temperature in the area plummeted. Though it was midsummer, large icicles began forming in the air at a speed visible to the naked eye!