The shrieks, cannon fire, and the sound of waves on the battlefield were swallowed by another, more domineering sound.
"Wooooooo—!"
It was a low roar, its frequency so low it made one's teeth ache.
The mist was torn open, and the bow of the ship was the first to emerge.
It was essentially a moving black cliff.
As it advanced, an extremely pungent smell instantly covered the battlefield.
This was the smell of industry, declaring sovereignty over this sea area.
An unlucky pirate brig happened to be right in its path.
This ship used to be a massive predator in front of merchant vessels, but now it wasn't even worth being called a speed bump.
the fernando didn't sound its horn, didn't slow down, and didn't even bother to turn its rudder.
"Crack."
The wooden keel shattered into powder the moment it touched the steel bow, while tens of thousands of tons of steel continued forward with its momentum.
Shattered planks, rotten canvas, and dozens of pirates who hadn't yet figured out the situation were instantly sucked under the massive black hull, leaving behind a faint trail of blood.
In the face of absolute mass, skills and courage were all jokes... Inside the armored command tower, it was as quiet as a bubble in the deep sea.
Thick bulletproof glass completely isolated the destruction outside; only the low-frequency vibration of the steam engine, like a heartbeat, could be heard through the floor.
The air was dry and warm, even drifting with a faint scent of black tea.
The Fleet Commander-in-Chief, Alvin, stood before the nautical chart table.
His dark blue naval double-breasted uniform was ironed crisp, buttoned all the way to the top.
He held a command sword in one hand, tapping it idly against his palm.
Louis stood nearby, holding a cup, as if watching a long-rehearsed play, though he was actually quite curious about what this ship could achieve.
Orland, on the other hand, was somewhat losing his composure.
The Chief Engineer's fingers were trembling, his face pressed against the glass as he stared intently at the massive black silhouette of the ship outside.
Alvin saw the signal flags raised by the vanguard fleet and clearly saw the three big guys in the mist trying to get close.
He turned around, and without raising his voice, spoke into the speaking tube in a tone like ordering food at a restaurant: "All hands, Battle Stations Level 1."
"Main battery, release locks." He raised the command sword in his hand and pointed out the window. "Clear away those three... stones blocking the path."
tyrant moved; inside that brain which had already degenerated into a sarcoma, there was only one rigid command.
Activate the Earthen Shell, smash everything!
Earthy yellow runes flashed frantically, and rocks proliferated like living things, instantly expanding a translucent spherical force field outside the hull.
This turtle shell had once withstood three rounds of volleys from the Royal Navy and escaped unscathed.
Carrying this absolute defense, it charged straight ahead like a reckless rhino.
This was the tragedy of a puppet; it didn't know that times had changed.
"Armor-piercing high-explosive shells, peel off its shell!"
"Boom—!"
With a crisp shudder from the fernando, two specially made pointed shells tore through the air.
That earthen force field, claimed to be physically immune, was as fragile as wet toilet paper in the face of the armor-piercing shells' spiral kinetic energy.
"Pfft."
With a muffled sound, the shells drilled into the rock layer without resistance, all the way to the ammunition depot in the deepest part of the hull, and then the fuses triggered.
tyrant was forced into a glowing sphere by the energy exploding in its belly.
In the next second, the entire ship vaporized.
Rocks, steel, and those disgusting mollusks parasitic inside evaporated instantly in the three-thousand-degree heat.
Only a giant pit emitting white smoke was left on the sea surface; not even a decent plank remained.
Legendary defense? In the face of yield, it's all fluff.
The Shadow Snake rushed out next, frantically drawing S-shapes on the sea as black mist spread, creating over a dozen realistic illusions.
It darted through the illusions as fast as black lightning, thinking it could toy with the heavy iron ship this way.
"Fool..." Orland couldn't help but laugh as he watched the ship darting around.
On the second deck, twelve secondary guns leveled simultaneously. free𝑤ebnovel.com
No need to aim, no need to predict; just fill this area of the sea.
"Clang clang clang clang clang—!"
The ejection ports opened, and red-hot shell casings hit the deck like a waterfall, making an extremely pleasant metallic clinking sound.
Thirty rounds per second.
The dense shells were like a wall being pushed forward, covering all sectors of The Shadow Snake's activity without any blind spots.
Those dozen illusions were instantly blown apart.
Then came the main body.
The speed it was so proud of was meaningless in the airtight barrage net.
The first shell broke its keel, the second tore the sails, the third, the fourth... the hundredth.
The ship was dismembered into fragments within half a second.
It didn't even have time to get within a kilometer of the fernando before it was beaten into a pile of rotten wood scraps floating on the sea.
Finally, there was The Death Whisper, an undead ship that had no intention of returning alive.
The thousands of deformed murlocs on the ship screamed simultaneously, and a mental shockwave surged like a tsunami.
At the same time, catapults threw countless meatballs filled with corrosive venom and plague into the air, like a green rain.
It wanted to perish together.
Even if it died, it would splash plague and curses onto the fernando's deck.
"So filthy." Louis frowned, as if seeing someone spit on a white dining table.
Zzzzzzzzz—!!!
On both sides of the bridge, four multi-barreled rotary cannons emitted a shriek like tearing cloth.
The six barrels spun into afterimages.
An orange-red metallic storm wove a fire net in mid-air.
Those flying murlocs attempting suicide attacks were turned into blood mist in the air before they could even get near the gunwales.
Meatballs, poison sacs, and curse mediums were all blown apart mid-air by the high-density warheads.
Next, the flamethrower ports below the gunwales opened.
High-pressure alchemical fuel oil gushed out.
Whoosh—!
A hundred-meter-high fire shield instantly rose around the fernando.
The venom that escaped the net fell into the fire, making a sizzling sound and being burned clean instantly.
The flames even rolled back with the wind, like a giant whip of fire, lashing hard against the face of The Death Whisper.
The sails made of dead human skin instantly ignited.
The ship, full of curses and resentment, turned into a giant maritime torch under the scorching of the industrial alchemical flames.
The murlocs' screams turned from mental attacks into pure screams of agony, finally falling into dead silence.
Three minutes, just three minutes.
Three legends of the old era, strengthened by deep-sea forces, had turned into ash and charcoal.
the fernando slowly sailed through that still-smoking sea area.
The black hull was spotless, without even a smudge of dirt.
Suddenly, the sea went quiet.
The rhythm of waves hitting the hull was gone; the black seawater was like asphalt being boiled thick, bubbling away.
Then came a stench like a rotting corpse that had been buried in a deep-sea trench for hundreds of years being unearthed.
The black water surged, first a mass of tangled soft tissue, then a broken hull that had been forced into giant octopus tentacles.
Wood and rust had long since grown together with flesh; it was impossible to tell what was ship and what was monster.
Where the masts should have stood, dozens of thick tentacles were now thrashing, each contraction of the suckers bringing up a splash of turbid black water.
On the hull, dense clusters of eyeballs opened.
Large ones like shields, small ones like coins, they made a wet rubbing sound as they rolled, staring intently at the steel giant before them.
Then it opened its mouth.
Which was to say, the original position of the bow split directly into a black hole filled with fangs.
That low-frequency roar hit the armor plates, vibrating so hard it made one's eardrums ache.
Inside the armored command tower, Louis stood before the bulletproof glass, looking at that pile of meat showing off its power, and frowned: "A bit disgusting."
Alvin didn't waste words. "Engine group, supercritical overload, main battery charging."
Red alarm lights flashed like crazy in the bridge.
The floor beneath their feet began to vibrate violently; it was the roar of four vertical steam engines being forced to their limits.
The pressure gauge needle slammed into the red zone, and the high-pressure steam in the pipes let out a sharp hiss, as if countless wild beasts were trapped in a steel cage, rampaging about.
the fernando's main gun raised its head.
Blue-white electric arcs scrambled frantically along the runes on the gun barrel, and even the surrounding air was distorted by the high temperature.
Fire.
A giant Magic Bomb spat from the muzzle, like a blade of light with zero thickness, stabbing straight into that roaring giant mouth.
The seawater along the path vaporized instantly, scattered before even water vapor could rise.
The fusion monster, which had been so arrogant just a moment ago, didn't even let out a scream.
At the moment of contact, tentacles, eyeballs, ship planks, and flesh—all structures collapsed within a millisecond.
They were directly erased from the physical level by the high temperature.
It was as if someone had taken an eraser and rubbed hard across a canvas.
The light dissipated.
Only a giant hundred-meter-diameter hole remained on the sea surface; the surrounding seawater froze for a few seconds before crashing back in with a roar, kicking up water columns dozens of meters high.
As for The Black Reef Prince? Not even ash was left.
A deathly silence hung over the deck of the distant scorpion.
The binoculars in Miller's hand hit his foot, causing sharp pain, but he didn't react.
He slid down the gunwale like a pile of mud, mouth agape, lungs pumping desperately, yet unable to draw in any oxygen.
He looked at that black warship, still sitting quietly in its original spot.
The hull was pitch black, the lines cold, not even a flake of paint had fallen off.
What was that just now?
Was that magic? Or divine punishment?
He had always thought the end for a pirate was the gallows, or being swallowed by a stronger monster.
But he never dreamed that what would end them would be something like this.
"This isn't war..." Miller's voice sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, filled with despair.
Those legendary Pirate Kings, those deep-sea monsters that made the Northlands tremble in fear, were not even a proper tragedy in the face of this steel torrent.
They were just stains.
And being wiped away was their only end.