A fierce wind howled past, whipping up swirling snowflakes. Amidst the Black Powder Fleet hurtling towards Bruno Harbor, Sebastian's jaw clenched. He stared intently at the harbor ahead, muttering to himself:
"As long as... as long as we can get there..."
"It won't...it won't..."
Mark, the adjutant beside him, was directing the sailors. He shouted urgently, "Go straight to the inner bay and storm the breakwater! Those damned Yan people are following us very closely. We need to disembark as soon as possible after landing!"
The port of Bruno is situated in a depression, and normally they would dock at the front pier. However, given the urgency of the situation, with the Yan Kingdom fleet pursuing them at less than 20 kilometers, slowly docking at the front pier was not a wise move. Their only option was to cross the front pier directly, pass through the central checkpoint, and sail into the inner bay to ensure the safety of the fleet.
The foreshore pier has strong fortifications, and any enemy attempting to sail through the pass into the inner bay would inevitably face fierce artillery fire.
After giving the order, Mark turned and glanced at Sebastian beside him.
Mark sighed inwardly at Sebastian's distraught appearance, but he still offered words of comfort:
"Sir, cheer up, we'll be at the port soon."
Sebastian's eyes were vacant as he muttered, "Arrived at the port...that's good."
Mark rubbed his temples and remained silent. He knew that Sebastian had been defeated and his fighting spirit had completely vanished.
What destroyed his will was not the enemy's artillery fire, but the colossal mistake he made.
When the decision was made to accelerate and abandon the transport ship, a mistake was already made. And when an accident occurred, and the transport ship was actually caught up with and destroyed by the enemy, the mistake had escalated to an unforgivable degree.
Whether it was Sebastian or everyone else on the warship, they had all become sinners.
Just as Mark remained silent, an urgent shout came from the watchtower: "Sir! The enemy fleet seems to have accelerated; they are closing the distance to us!"
"It seems they weren't sailing at full speed before!"
Upon hearing this, Mark's expression changed, and just as he was about to speak, Sebastian suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs:
"Throw all the heavy things overboard!"
"The port is just ahead! We'll be fine once we sail into the inner bay!"
Mark, pale-faced, shook his head and said, "Sir, have you forgotten? We threw everything we could down there an hour ago."
"We can't exactly say... throw the ammunition boxes overboard, but that wouldn't do any good. Their warships are way too fast for us. They only appeared in our sight three hours ago, but they caught up in such a short time. That speed..."
Before he could finish speaking, Sebastian suddenly reached out and grabbed Mark's collar:
"Throw!"
"quick!"
"We can't be sunk here! We have to get back to land! We have to survive!!" Sebastian's face was contorted, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he roared like a madman.
——
Inside the command center of the Brlo Port military camp.
Under the dim light, the windows of the room were open, and the wind outside howled, sending snowflakes into the room little by little. This made the temperature inside almost the same as outside, and just like the cold temperature, the atmosphere inside the room was particularly cold.
All the officers surrounding Bernhardt had extremely somber expressions when, at that moment, a man rushed in through the open door.
The man who arrived was an army major. He looked flustered, and a deep sorrow was etched between his brows. Without even taking a breath, he urgently addressed the crowd:
"Confirmed!"
"Sailing at the forefront is General Sebastian's gunpowder fleet! Their brightly displayed flags indicate that they are facing great danger."
"But we only saw battleships returning, not a single transport ship."
"And the fleet closely following him..." The major paused slightly, but then the conference table was slammed down with a loud bang, followed by an angry shout:
"Identity information!!"
“It’s… the Yan Kingdom’s fleet.” The major’s throat bobbed as he looked at Bernhardt at the conference table, his voice trembling slightly.
As soon as the words were spoken, several officers let out soft sighs. In fact, they could already guess from the flags and terminology displayed by the Black Powder Fleet that the following fleet was the enemy. However, the lingering illusions in their hearts made them want to get a more concrete confirmation when they got closer.
Now that the information has been confirmed again, everyone couldn't help but let out a helpless sigh.
They all knew what this meant.
Bernhardt, who was leaning against the table, suddenly turned pale. He leaned back and bumped into the table, his arm accidentally knocking over the ink bottle.
With a loud crash, the ink bottle shattered on the ground, and thick black ink gradually soaked into the earth.
"As expected... it really was them."
"Fortunately, the defense forces are already in place." Staff officer Dingle's face twitched slightly as he looked away from the puddle on the ground and at the people around him.
"Why are only battleships returning?" At this moment, an army lieutenant general asked with a stern face.
Everyone fell silent. No one answered his question. Dingle turned to look at Bernhardt, who was still leaning against the table. Bernhardt's face grew paler and paler. He held onto the edge of the table, and his already aged face looked even more frail under the dim light. He seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.
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