On the broad aft deck of the twenty-five-hundred-ton flagship Sea Lion, Navy Vice Admiral Marlow stood as straight as he had during his army service, the Brass Telescope in his hand steadily tracking where each shell landed.
He was not yet forty, with a resolute face and keen eyes. His transfer from major general in the Imperial Defense Force to navy vice admiral had given him a deep understanding of coordination between land and sea forces.
"Solid shot works reasonably well against dense formations, but its effectiveness against scattered targets and those larger demons leaves something to be desired."
He lowered the Telescope and spoke calmly to the first mate beside him, his voice carrying a soldier's characteristic steadiness.
"And the King's Guards on the beach are in a very bad position."
Through the Telescope, the warriors of the King's Guards numbered fewer than a thousand now. Like rocks battered by waves, they clung stubbornly to the wreckage of the last dozen or so grounded merchant ships, resisting the black tide of demons.
Their courage was moving, but their situation was clearly desperate.
"We cannot let them be wiped out here."
Vice Admiral Marlow spoke gravely and made his decision.
"Signal every ship to switch to Explosive Shells. Target the demons' assault formations on the beach with saturation fire. Each ship will determine its own firing parameters. Prioritize the safety of the Guards' defensive line."
The signal officer swiftly translated the order into colorful signal flags and raised them up the Sea Lion's mainmast.
The massive fleet began adjusting like a precision machine, flickering flames within its gunports heralding an even fiercer storm.
But during the preparations for the bombardment, the lookout atop the Sea Lion's mainmast suddenly began waving signal flags, urgently relaying a message below.
"Admiral, the King's