Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

With the iron chains blocking the sea now gone, Venetian warships charged into Red Sulfur Bay, their murderous intent palpable as they headed for the docks.

In the moonlight, one after another, the warships, bearing torches, resembled a long dragon within the bay.

These warships were not the "big fellows" from the revenge fleet; they were all Fustas.

[Note: Fusta refers to a light galleon with a complete deck, manned by only around thirty rowers. Gold's Good Fortune was such a ship. These light galleons might be small, but they had a shallow draft and were highly maneuverable.]

The vanguard warships had already breached the docks, where Venetians were engaged in fierce combat with the harbor's defenders. The direction of Red Sulfur Harbor echoed with the roaring of guns, shouts of killing, and the surrounding docks were ablaze with fire.

In the middle of the bay, two Fustas below the waterline were blasted open by heavy artillery from the battery, sea water churning as it poured in and the warships spiraled down while sinking.

To prevent the sunken ships from blocking the channel, nearby warships threw out hooks and ropes, striving to drag the sinking vessels away. Other warships veered around the wrecks and raced toward Red Sulfur Harbor at full speed.

Both attackers and defenders knew the outcome of the battle depended on speed, on how quickly the Venetians could land their troops.

While the Venetian ships were frantically clearing the channel, the heavy artillery in the battery continued its relentless bombardment, and cannonballs, one after another, created plumes of spray around the Venetian warships.

Another Venetian warship sank, crewmembers scattering in all directions to abandon ship. The warships that followed didn't even stop to rescue those in the water, sometimes sailing directly over their heads.

The survivors among Winters's men, watching from the shore, felt a deep agony not just for the Venetians but even the Herders felt as if a heavy stone was pressing on their chests, suffocating them.

So many had died assaulting the battery, yet the heavy artillery within was left unharmed, still firing one lethal cannonball after another.

What was the fierce fighting for? What did those sacrifices amount to? Did they die in vain?

Andre's face was ashen as he shivered, muttering curses under his breath.

A sense of despair, depression, and bleakness spread among those who were still alive.

What to do?

Everyone looked to Centurion Montaigne for guidance.

Winters remained silent, staring fixedly in the direction of the battery and Red Sulfur Harbor.

Finally, a young Venetian soldier couldn't hold back his tears and cried out.

Among sobs, Winters turned to face everyone, his eyes wide, breathing heavily, and shouted fiercely, "Saber!"

His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked utterly terrifying.

The crowd was stunned, unsure of what Warrants Officer Montaigne intended to do.

A gaunt figure with a missing tooth squeezed to the front, and Gold stepped forward, presenting a curved sword to Winters with both hands respectfully.

Only then did they understand that the Centurion's weapon was lost in the battery and Montaigne was requesting a weapon.

Winters tore off the sling fixing his right arm, threw it to the ground, took the curved sword, and issued his command, word for word, "Attack again!"

"Have you gone mad?" Andre exclaimed in alarm, forgetting the presence of others, immediately objecting to Winters, "There must be at least fifty people in that battery. We couldn't breach it even with the advantage of a surprise attack, going again would be a death sentence, wouldn't it?"

"Attack again." Winters repeated firmly.

"I understand how you feel, but we've done our best, we can't just go and die, can we?" Andre was frantic. He looked at Bard, "Bard, say something to him!" Your next chapter awaits on empire

"Actually, I think..." Bard narrowed his eyes, pondering, then said, "...we could attack once more."

"XX! Why can't I make you two understand?" Andre pounded his head with his fists in frustration.

"Look, Red Sulfur Harbor is in chaos now. The reinforcements that left from the harbor are turning back. There are only the original defenders in the battery." Winters pointed with the curved sword towards the turning torches outside the harbor and sneered, "The defenders in the battery know we are few and could only mount a sneak attack. They would never expect us to dare to return. Additionally, a significant portion of the defenders who are still alive are manning the cannons. We might actually have the advantage for a surprise assault."

Andre seemed to understand the situation though his instinct was still to object, "But..."

"Centurion!" Winters, however, didn't give him a chance to speak further, shouting out loud.

The Venetians looked at each other; no one responded.

"Where are they?"

"Report, sir, the old sergeant died… took a knife to the belly…" a Venetian soldier replied softly.

Winters paused for a few seconds before asking again, "I ordered him to destroy the battery gate hinge. Is the gate hinge destroyed?"

"Destroyed." The same soldier who had spoken before replied, "I was with the sergeant when we destroyed it."

"From now on, you are Centurion." Winters pointed at the speaking soldier, then addressed the rest, "Are you afraid now?"

The surviving Venetian soldiers lowered their heads, no one speaking.

"I'll tell you! Those Tanyrians are more afraid!" Winters declared fiercely, "Their courage just now was nothing more than the advantage of numbers! And now they are afraid, they're trembling while cleaning up the bodies! Just recalling our bravery will make them shiver! The gate to the battery is broken, and this is our God-given opportunity! Enter through the gate, kill anyone you see! Catch them completely off guard!"