Free Web NovelThe sea was burning, and the firelight pierced through the mist, reflecting on the hull of the dawn like molten metal.
Louis stood before the observation window of the command cabin, quietly watching the sea torn apart by cannon fire.
After each volley, a recorder beside him diligently noted the hit rate, cabin temperature, and armor defense.
The writing on the paper grew denser, the scratching of the pen drowned out by the deep roar.
Louis didn't need to ask; he could deduce the results from the frequency of vibrations and the responsiveness of the rudder: precise firepower, stable navigation, and no armor deformation.
Everything exceeded his expectations; the dawn's performance not only met its design but far surpassed calculated values.
A sense of satisfaction rose in Louis's heart. This ship was the Red Tide's first, and with experience, subsequent designs would only improve.
Bernard, standing nearby, stared through the observation scope, the sea ripped open by firelight making him almost forget to breathe.
The dawn's cannon fire flickered in the fog; each volley was like a clap of thunder, making the entire sea churn.
Right before their eyes, a pirate auxiliary ship was hit by a Magic Bomb, exploding as if ripped apart from within. Tongues of fire shot from its belly, staining the surrounding seawater dark red.
Planks and figures were flung into the air together, disintegrating in the flames. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
Another pirate ship attempted to evade but was struck in the stern by the dawn's secondary cannons.
Amidst the flashing explosions, seawater churned, and debris tumbled in the waves.
Bernard could almost hear the distant cracking of wood.
He had never imagined that a ship he helped build could possess such power, like a awakened behemoth, making his chest ache.
Bernard instinctively gripped the railing, his throat working: “Oh God... its firepower is truly... Is this really a ship we built?”
Louis did not answer, merely calmly observing the main ship being forced into the encirclement, pointing out some flaws he noticed:
“The rudder response is two seconds faster than expected. In the next round, adjust the firing rhythm to see if continuous fire causes steam pressure imbalance.”
“Yes, Lord.” The recorder quickly jotted it down.
On the other command platform, Elliot was issuing new firing orders.
His voice was steady, but Louis could detect the tension, as if he was meticulously trying to do everything perfectly.
He whispered to Weil, “Don't let him get too nervous.”
“Understood.” Weil nodded and relayed the order.
The battle lasted nearly five minutes. Six dawn-class ships advanced in a circle, their cannon fire rhythmically suppressing the pirate fleet.
The pirates' retaliatory shells struck the dawn's hull, only sparking and leaving no trace.
Elliot looked back from the command platform, his expression taut.
After a brief hesitation, he walked towards the observation window, lowering his voice: “Lord, shall we proceed with boarding action?”
Louis did not turn around, only staring at the churning sea of fire: “You decide.”
Elliot paused, took a deep breath, then turned back to the command platform, loudly ordering: “Boarding party, prepare for action!”
As the signal flag rose, the ship vibrated, and the boarding bridge lowered.
The Red Tide Knights leaped onto the enemy ship across the iron bridge, their shouts clearly heard: “Hands on your head and squat down! Or be cut down immediately!”
A few minutes later, the boarding bridge lowered again, and the Red Tide Knights leaped onto the enemy ship across the iron bridge, their shouts clearly heard: “Hands on your head and squat down! Or be cut down immediately!”
Firelight flickered in the mist, and sword glints followed.
Elliot stood by the deck, watching the battle on the main ship until the last pirate was subdued. Only then did he lower his command flag and let out a deep breath.
“It's over,” he murmured.
Louis did not respond immediately, only staring at the still-smoking wreck: “Put out the fires, salvage, and blockade the sea area. No surviving ships are allowed to leave.”
“Understood,” Elliot replied.
When the cabin door opened, the wind, carrying the smell of gunpowder, rushed in.
Louis looked up towards the harbor, where the firelight already illuminated half the sky.
The dike was crowded with people: laborers, guards, artisans, and more.
Most of them had heard that pirates were active outside the harbor tonight and had secretly slipped out to watch the excitement.
Louis did not stop them.
In his opinion, it was a good thing for these people to witness the power of the dawn firsthand.
Those who had once spent their days and nights hammering iron plates and moving timber were now personally witnessing the power they had created burning on the sea.
Initially, the onlookers watched in silence, fearing the fall of Dawn Harbor.
But when the black-sailed ships were shattered and explosive fires rolled across the sea, the silence was immediately broken.
Some began to applaud, others raised their arms, shouting loudly, and cheers spread from one end of the dike to the other.
“Long live the dawn!” “Long live Dawn Harbor!” “Long live Lord Louis!”
Elliot stepped forward, still looking a little tense: “Everything is under control, Lord.”
Louis looked at the cheering crowd, his expression calm, but he subtly exhaled in relief: “Well done. Dawn Harbor can sleep soundly tonight.”
The sea outside the harbor was still burning, mist flickering, and white smoke rising.
The dawn floated silently between fire and fog.
On the shore, a young shipwright looked at the ship's silhouette, his eyes shining, and murmured: “The ship we built... it can swallow the sea.”
...Merrian was confined in a damp cell, his hands and feet chained, curled in a corner, his back against the cold wooden wall.
Water seeped from the walls, the light was dim, and the air was mixed with the smell of alcohol.
Each time a wave crashed against the ship, the chains would gently sway, as if reminding him that he was still alive.
He hailed from the Emerald Federation, a commercial federation where the wealthy lived in luxury and the poor were like dust.
There, people treated money as blood, and class distinctions were almost etched into their bones.
Merrian's brother was sold as a chanting puppet, a servant modified by alchemy and stripped of his will, because their family couldn't pay their debts.
That scene became the shadow of his life.
He, however, was different from his brother, showing an astonishing memory from a young age.
People from the Azure Tide Guild discovered him, took him away, and praised his extraordinary talent.
He was chosen by the Azure Tide Guild as a teenager and taken away, subsequently confined to laboratories and piles of reagents.
Decades passed, and now he was nearly sixty, nominally a Grand Alchemist of the Emerald Federation, with considerable academic prestige.
But before the Guild, he remained merely a researcher who followed orders.
Merrian was timid, never argued, and never dared to resist.
Wherever the Guild sent him, he went, never asking why.
When the northern sampling mission was issued, he didn't even dare to hesitate, only nodded, signed, and was then escorted onto the ship.
That obedience had long become instinct, like a deeper set of shackles.
And during this trip, Merrian never expected anything to go wrong.
The day the ship set sail, the sky was overcast. He simply stayed in his room, clutching the sample box, silently praying for the mission to end quickly.
The events that followed became blurred, with only fragments remaining in his mind.
Impact, screams, firelight, thick fog, and that scorching smell of blood.
He didn't remember how he survived, only that in that moment, his mind was blank.
All reason, research, companions, dignity—all were swallowed by fear, leaving only one thought: to survive.
Now he could only stare blankly at the chains at his feet.
That memory surged back repeatedly like a tide, making him afraid to even breathe too deeply.
Suddenly, a deep explosion came from outside the ship, as if someone had ignited muffled thunder beneath the sea.
The entire cell shook violently, and dust and wood chips fell from the ceiling.
Merrian looked up, his eyes fixed on the crack in the door.
Short footsteps were heard from outside, followed by the clash of metal and painful screams.
His breath hitched, his throat dry. The sounds were chaotic, urgent, as if the entire ship was being torn apart.
Countless possibilities flashed through his mind.
Was it other pirates? Or had the Federation sent people to rescue him?
As this thought appeared, a flicker of hope briefly rose in his chest, but that hope was instantly drowned by new fear.
What if it wasn't a rescue?
If the attackers outside saw him and deemed him useless, would they just kill him?
The footsteps grew closer, accompanied by heavy thuds.
Merrian curled up tighter, pressing his body against the cold wooden wall.
The chains at his feet trembled incessantly, and he realized it wasn't the ship shaking, but himself.
Soon, the door was smashed open, and firelight streamed in.
He instinctively squinted, only seeing a group of people clad in iron armor enter.
The scraping of metal plates echoed in the narrow cabin; their footsteps were steady and uniform.
Someone reached out to unlock his chains, their movements not rough, yet devoid of any warmth.
Merrian was pulled up, almost being helped out of the cell.
He looked up, trying to see their faces, but only saw shadows beneath their visors.
These people were not Federation soldiers, nor did they resemble pirates. He had never seen their style of armor, which was dark black with a faint red tint... As the fog dispersed, shattered wood and charred canvas still floated on the sea.
The dike of Dawn Harbor was intact; a night-long battle hadn't caused the slightest damage to the port.
Because the battle had not occurred in the harbor area, but in the offshore currents.
Sailors and artisans were orderly preparing for salvage work. Several small boats glided out along the sea mist, salvaging the wrecked ships to see what they contained.
By noon the next day, Elliot rushed over with a report.
“The battle results have been cleared, Lord,” Elliot said, an unconcealed excitement in his expression.
“This experiment was very successful. All data has been recorded. The dawn's main cannon hit rate remained above ninety percent, armor pressure tests passed, the hull operated stably, and there wasn't a single instance of loss of control.”
Louis nodded slightly: “Very good.”
“Additionally,” Elliot unrolled a scroll, “all captured pirates have been interrogated. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
They are from the Steel-Tooth Mad King's fleet. This operation was an independent fleet under his command, aimed at intercepting a merchant ship from the Emerald Federation and delivering ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ the goods and personnel back to the Mad King.”
Louis raised an eyebrow: “Emerald Federation?”
“The target might be some kind of alchemical material. We have also taken the goods, and one person confessed that the Mad King is hiding in the ice abyss islands in the North Sea, but the intelligence is unconfirmed.
And their attack on Dawn Harbor this time was an unauthorized action, not receiving formal orders from the Mad King.”
“Decapitate those people and display their heads,” Louis said calmly. “Hang them outside the harbor. It can reassure the residents and let them know that this harbor is not to be trifled with.”
“Understood, Lord.”
Louis turned, his voice lowering: “After winter next year, we should take the offensive. If the Steel-Tooth Mad King's power is not eradicated, the shipping lane to the new Southeast province will never be safe. Elliot, prepare well.”
Elliot's expression tightened, then he straightened his body: “Yes, Lord. I believe the dawn's fleet can handle any enemy.”
Louis smiled faintly and turned his gaze back.
Just then, Elliot remembered another matter and, after a slight hesitation, spoke: “There are also several Federation merchant personnel rescued, Lord.
As per your orders, they have been arranged to rest in the Port Authority's infirmary. We haven't spoken much with him. If you wish to see him, I can prepare now.”
“I'll go over after the meeting.”
“Yes.” Elliot nodded, bowed, and withdrew... Louis rode his horse along the harbor road. The wind blew from the sea, carrying a fishy, damp smell.
Dawn Harbor was faintly visible in the morning mist, and the distant sound of hammering could still be heard.
This was already a rising port city, with sturdy dikes, rows of docks, and white smoke still rising from the roofs of newly built workshops.
Hooves clattered crisply on the flagstones, but Louis's mind was contemplating that piece of intelligence.
【1: Merrian Schmidt, a Grand Alchemist from the Azure Tide Guild of the Emerald Federation, is on a pirate ship near Dawn Harbor.】
Beyond this, the system provided no further information.
But the term “Grand Alchemist” was enough to tempt any lord. Such individuals almost never appeared in the North, let alone being encountered by him.
If he could truly be retained, the future alchemical system of Red Tide City could advance by a decade.
Louis had already made up his mind; even if he didn't want to stay, he would have to.
But he also knew that pushing too hard would be counterproductive.
If such a timid researcher were scared, even the most brilliant mind would be useless.
So he decided to use gentler methods as much as possible.
The infirmary was filled with the scent of herbs and sea salt.
Several injured individuals rescued from the pirate ship leaned against the wall, their faces pale, groaning softly.
Merrian sat in the corner, his expression dazed, his fingers still unconsciously rubbing the corner of his clothes.
Louis recognized him at a glance; after all, the others were all young, clearly alchemical apprentices.
On the other side, Merrian noticed someone approaching, slightly looked up, and glanced at the young man in black noble attire out of the corner of his eye.
The man had a slight smile but exuded an undeniable sense of pressure.
Merrian immediately lowered his head, not daring to look further, but his mind had already begun to calculate that this person should be the leader here, and he didn't seem like a bad person.
If he were to interrogate him, perhaps he should use a fake name? And then ransom himself out with money? He had already conceived several excuses in his mind.
But the young man stopped in front of him and said directly: “Merrian Schmidt, Grand Alchemist. An alchemist under the Emerald Federation's Azure Tide Guild, correct?”
Merrian stiffened, his face completely changed.
