"The second fleet that set sail, in total, probably numbered seven or eight hundred ships," Gustav replied with a smile, rubbing his nose.
Wolfgang nodded slightly: "Yes, that's good, but the shipyard needs to rush to build more warships as soon as possible."
"In addition to needing large warships to transport troops to Yan Kingdom, we also need a fleet to maintain long-term control of Yan Kingdom's coastal waters. Sea power is becoming increasingly important now."
Gustav hummed in agreement, his gaze falling on the darkening sky outside the window. He then asked:
"When will His Majesty arrive, Field Marshal Wolfgang?"
"Six o'clock." Wolfgang put his leg down, tapped the table with his fingers, and said to the servants, "Clear the table."
Gustav looked up at the white jade grandfather clock against the wall, staring at the slowly moving hands and muttering, "Half an hour left."
As soon as he finished speaking, the pointer pointed to the center and made a crisp sound.
"Thump!"
——
The sails burned in the flames, the tall, straight mast was charred black, and the cracks at the bottom caused by the explosion grew larger and larger. Finally, it could no longer hold on and crashed down with flames all over its body.
The sailor, unable to dodge in time, was knocked to the ground. He struggled with screams, but the flames on the mast spread to his body, igniting his hat, hair, and clothes. He was extinguished amidst his agonizing cries.
As night fell, whitecaps rolled across the sea, carrying countless wrecked federal warships and their wreckage into the deep ocean.
The afternoon's fierce battle—or rather, the suicidal interception—was drawing to a close.
During this period, the Iron Wall Fleet closed the distance with the Yan Army Fleet despite heavy casualties, and then launched a bombardment. However, by this time, their warships had been lost by more than half, and even their battle lines had collapsed, so the counterattack was ineffective.
So they abandoned the artillery barrage and used the remaining warships to charge, intending to ram the Yan Kingdom's warships directly. Although they knew that the Yan Kingdom's warships were covered with iron armor and that the most likely outcome of a collision would be the destruction of their own ships and loss of life, this was their last resort, so they still did it.
Even so, this measure was ineffective. Although the Yan army's steam-powered ironclad ships had steel bodies, they did not want to suffer any unnecessary damage from the impact. Therefore, they used their superior maneuverability to evade.
While dodging, they continued firing from their rotating turrets. Although firing while moving would reduce their accuracy, their firepower was sufficient, since only a few dozen Federation warships remained when they launched their suicide ramming attack.
Thus, shortly after sunset, the Iron Wall fleet tasked with the interception was on the verge of destruction.
All the warships were destroyed in the shelling, and now in this sea full of wreckage, only a dozen or so warships remain that have not yet completely sunk.
Now, with seawater overflowing and flames spreading, they are about to sink completely into the deep sea.
On one of the warships, a man crawled out from a pile of broken wood. His cheek was ripped open by shrapnel, and blood was gushing out, staining half of his body red.
Despite his severe injuries, the man didn't utter a sound or get up from the ground. Instead, he knelt down, his hands rummaging through the wreckage, as if he didn't care at all that the warship was about to sink.
As he searched, he could no longer hear anyone else's cries, which made him realize that his comrades had all died in the explosions during the two rounds of shelling.
After pulling out a charred wooden plank, a mangled corpse came into view. Upon seeing that familiar face, the man's pupils contracted slightly, and his lips moved slightly:
"Rest in peace, Carlos."
"At least... we fulfilled our final duty."
"Although we didn't stop them for too long, we still slowed them down."
"Right?"
Muttering to himself, he reached out his blood-soaked hand and gently closed the corpse's wide-open eyes.
"It's here."
He then pulled aside a wooden board and pulled out a crumpled military cap from underneath, which was the very cap he was looking for.
Holding the hat, Chik slowly stood up and walked towards the highest point of the tilting warship.
As he walked, he fiddled with his hat, gradually restoring it to its original shape after it had been compressed. Once it was fully restored, he finally reached the highest point of the warship.
After feeling his blood-stained clothes, smoothing out some wrinkles, and fastening the loose buttons, Chick finally put on his hat.
He stood with his feet together, his body straight, facing the direction of the land.
Under the cover of night, the Yan Kingdom fleet was sailing. Compared to their first encounter, their formation was still as large as ever. This naval battle that had annihilated their fleet seemed to have little effect on them.
Chick watched expressionlessly, then gradually raised his chin, looking higher and farther, past the enemy fleet that was sailing, towards his homeland that was both far away and yet so close.
Nothing could be seen; everything was hidden in the darkness of night.
He composed himself, his face becoming solemn, and then suddenly raised his arm.
He gave a perfectly standard military salute, held the position, and kept looking into the distance until the warship could no longer withstand the pressure and sank into the deep sea with him.
——
"Thump!"
The hands pointed to six o'clock, and the clock struck again.
Everyone in the room stood up and saluted Von Palen, who entered the council chamber on time.
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