Chapter 34: 70 Hours War Part 2

Aboard the HMES Invictus Arcanum, the air was thick with tension and the metallic scent of stress as chaos erupted. The bridge, usually a beacon of disciplined efficiency, had transformed into a cacophony of alarms and frantic movements. Red warning lights bathed the room in an ominous glow, their staccato flashes reflecting off the polished steel walls. The normally composed crew, now caught in a storm of confusion and fear, darted between consoles, their faces flushed and eyes wide with panic.

"Why the hell is a lone J-35 fighter attacking us?" Commander Laelia demanded, her voice rising above the din, her silver hair whipping around as she turned sharply towards the screens.

"Shields are holding! No damage reported!" a junior officer shouted, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to interpret the rapidly changing data. His report was a fragile thread of reassurance in the maelstrom of noise.

"Is this an ambush or a rogue actor?" another officer speculated, his eyes darting between various displays, each one flashing with streams of incomprehensible data.

"It doesn't matter!" Captain Alric Tavin roared, his face flushed with a mixture of anger and disbelief. His voice, normally calm and measured, cracked under the strain of the situation. "This is an act of war!"

The chaos spread like wildfire. The captains of the Fortis Bellator and Ultor Infernus, the two Adamant-Class magic battleships flanking the Invictus Arcanum, were not taking the situation lightly. Their voices, distorted by the crackling comms, were filled with shrill fury and desperation.

"We must respond! Now!" Captain Xander of the Ultor Infernus bellowed, his command broadcasted across the fleet's communications network. The urgency in his voice was palpable, a sharp contrast to the usually orderly flow of fleet operations.

"Permission to engage!" Captain Draven of the Fortis Bellator demanded, his hand hovering over the controls that would unleash his ship's immense firepower. His knuckles were white with the intensity of his grip, his eyes fixed on the screens as if they could provide him with some semblance of control.

"Hold your fire! I repeat, hold your fire!" Rear Admiral Kaelith Morvannis's voice cracked with authority as he struggled to regain control. His command was an iron fist in a velvet glove, desperate to pierce through the tumultuous noise. But even as he issued the orders, the bridge was a maelstrom of conflicting commands, the once-disciplined machine of the Milishial fleet now fraying at the seams.

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The HMES Silvanius Nox, a Silver-Class magic cruiser submarine, was a marvel of Milishial engineering, blending the ancient arcane arts with the latest in magical technology. It was a hunter, a predator of the deep, its sleek, silver-hued hull designed to glide through the ocean with minimal resistance. Inside, the submarine was a labyrinth of corridors, all lit with a dim, blue glow that gave the vessel an otherworldly atmosphere. The crew was trained to the highest standards, their senses honed to react to the slightest disturbance in the water around them. They were the vanguard of the Milishial Empire's naval force, trusted with weapons and technology that could decide the fate of nations.

On this day, however, the crew of the Silvanius Nox felt the weight of uncertainty. The submarine had been patrolling the South Irnetia Sea, its sensors sweeping the waters for any sign of the Chinese fleet. The tense silence was only broken by the occasional ping of the sonar, the sound echoing through the submarine like a heartbeat. Then came the transmission that shattered the calm.

"Attention all hands, we've just received a high-priority transmission," the voice of the communications officer crackled over the PA system. "The Invictus Arcanum has been engaged by enemy fire. Repeat, the Invictus Arcanum has been fired upon."

The words sent a ripple of shock through the submarine. The Invictus Arcanum was the pride of the Milishial Navy, a floating fortress that represented the might of the empire. For it to be attacked was unthinkable.

In the control room, Captain Leoric Gray's eyes narrowed as he processed the news. He was a seasoned officer, his face lined with the marks of experience. His short-cropped silver hair and steely gaze gave him the appearance of a man who had seen it all. But even he was taken aback by the audacity of the attack.

"Who would dare to attack the Invictus Arcanum?" Captain Gray muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

"Sir, reports indicate a lone J-35 fighter initiated the attack," the communications officer replied, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"A single fighter? That's impossible," Gray growled, shaking his head. "No pilot would be foolish enough to provoke a Milishial fleet alone."

"Sir, it appears the pilot acted without orders," the officer added, his voice growing more uncertain.

"Then we're dealing with a rogue element," Captain Gray concluded. He looked around the control room, seeing the tension etched into the faces of his crew. "But we can't assume this is an isolated incident. Everyone, stay alert. This could be the prelude to a larger attack."

The control room was a hive of activity as the crew prepared for any eventuality. The officers at their stations double-checked their instruments, ensuring that the Silvanius Nox was ready to respond to whatever threat might emerge from the depths. Down in the weapons bay, Marcus Alvar stood before the torpedo controls, his hands clenched into fists. He was a man consumed by his own anger, his thoughts twisted by a deep-seated hatred for those he considered inferior to the Milishial Empire. The idea that a single Chinese fighter had dared to strike at the Invictus Arcanum filled him with a burning rage. His mind raced with thoughts of vengeance, each one more violent than the last.

"Permission to fire, sir!" Marcus barked, his voice laced with anger. His eyes were locked onto the captain, practically daring him to refuse.

Captain Gray, sensing the dangerous intensity in Alvar's voice, turned sharply. "Stand down, Alvar. We don't fire without orders."

"But sir, they attacked us! They deserve to be—"

"Alvar, I said stand down!" the captain barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We do not act rashly. You know the protocol."

Marcus gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. The captain's words echoed in his ears, but another voice, more insidious, began to creep into his thoughts. It was a voice that wasn't his own, yet it felt familiar, as if it had been lurking in the dark corners of his mind, waiting for the right moment to strike.

They're mocking you, Marcus. Mocking your empire. Are you going to let them get away with it?

The voice was smooth, seductive, dripping with venomous intent. Marcus's heart pounded in his chest, his anger bubbling to the surface like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Show them your strength. Show them what happens when they defy Milishial.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but the voice only grew louder, more insistent. It twisted his anger, feeding off his hatred, amplifying it until it drowned out all reason.

"Captain," Marcus said, his voice strained, "they're taunting us. They're testing our resolve. We need to strike back."

Captain Gray's eyes narrowed. Something was off about Alvar. The man was always intense, but this was different. There was a wildness in his eyes, a barely controlled fury that made the captain uneasy.

"Alvar, I said no," Gray repeated, his tone firmer this time. "We wait for orders from command."

But Marcus wasn't listening. The voice in his head had taken hold, wrapping around his thoughts like a serpent, squeezing until there was nothing left but the desire to destroy.

Fire. Show them no mercy.

Unbeknownst to Marcus, this was the insidious work of Bramptovich, the Annonrial agent. His subtle mind-control spell had taken root in Marcus's mind, manipulating his thoughts and amplifying his anger. Bramptovich had chosen his pawn well—a hot-headed, racist officer who would be easy to push over the edge. Marcus's hand moved on its own, seemingly possessed by the malevolent voice. His fingers danced over the controls, and before anyone could stop him, he had armed the submarine's torpedoes.

"Alvar, what the hell are you doing?!" Captain Gray shouted, his voice cutting through the rising tension like a blade.

But it was too late. The HMES Silvanius Nox shuddered as the torpedoes launched, a deep, rumbling vibration that reverberated through the hull.

Sixteen Type-66 hypervelocity magic torpedoes, each armed with an ultrasonic warhead, shot through the water at a blinding speed of 1000 kilometers per hour. These weren't ordinary weapons—they were designed for maximum destruction, their speed and power unmatched by anything in the Chinese arsenal.

"Alvar, you've just committed an act of war!" Captain Gray roared, his face contorting with fury and disbelief. "You've doomed us all!"

But Marcus wasn't listening. His eyes were glazed over, his mind lost to the dark influence that had taken root within him. The voice in his head chuckled, a sinister sound that sent a shiver down his spine.

Well done, Marcus. You've done your empire proud.

The control room was in chaos. Officers shouted over each other, trying to regain control of the situation, but the damage was done. The torpedoes were on their way, and there was no calling them back.

The HMES Silvanius Nox was equipped with the most advanced mana sensor array on the planet, capable of detecting a human mage inside a submarine from 1000 kilometers away. But the Chinese submarines had no magic in their machines or in their crew. They were ghostly shadows in the depths, nearly invisible to Milishial's magical sensors. The submarine had to rely on its conventional sonar array, which, while advanced, struggled to lock onto the Chinese Type 95 submarines.

The Type 95 was among the quietest submarines ever built, its acoustic signature almost imperceptible, a masterpiece of stealth technology. In the deep, dark waters of the South Irnetia Sea, the Type 95s were like whispers in the void, barely discernible even to the best sonar systems in the world.

Frustrated by the lack of a solid lock, Marcus had opted for a weapon of mass effect. The Type-66 torpedoes didn't need to hit their targets directly. Their ultrasonic warheads were designed to detonate in proximity, creating a devastating shockwave that would kill anything within a 50-mile radius.

The torpedoes raced through the water, their onboard sonar systems struggling to find a target. But they didn't need precision. They just needed to get close enough.

In the Chinese submarines, the sonar officers stared in horror as their screens lit up with the incoming threat. The torpedoes were moving too fast, far faster than anything they had ever encountered. Panic set in as they realized there was no time to evade, no time to launch countermeasures.

"Captain, we have torpedoes incoming! They're… they're moving at impossible speeds!" one of the Chinese sonar officers shouted, his voice cracking with fear.

"Evasive maneuvers! Now!" the Chinese submarine captain ordered, his voice calm but edged with desperation.

But it was too late. The torpedoes closed the distance in mere seconds, their ultrasonic warheads primed to unleash their deadly payloads.

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Onboard the Nanjing, the nerve center of China's First Expeditionary Fleet, Admiral Li Pengcheng stood at the heart of the chaos that had erupted around him. The dim red glow of battle lighting bathed the bridge in an ominous hue, casting shadows that seemed to move with the frenzied pace of the officers scrambling at their stations. The tension was palpable, a living entity that fed on the fear and uncertainty gripping every soul aboard.

"Who in the name of the gods fired on the HMES Invictus Arcanum?" Admiral Li's voice boomed, cutting through the din like a thunderclap. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a fury that matched the storm brewing both within the ship and without.

"Sir, it was one of our own—J-35 pilot, Lieutenant Lan Yunlong!" a young officer stammered, his hands shaking as he relayed the information. "He… he launched the attack without orders. We're trying to reach him, but—"

"Are you telling me a single rogue pilot has just sparked a war?" Li snarled, slamming his fist down on the console in front of him. The thought that one man could have jeopardized the entire mission was almost too much to bear.

"Sir, we're receiving a transmission from the Invictus Arcanum," another officer called out. "Rear Admiral Kaelith Morvannis is trying to—"

"Put him through!" Li barked, his mind racing to find a way to salvage the situation.

But before the connection could be established, another officer's panicked voice cut through the air like a knife. "Admiral! The Milishial fleet… they've just fired on us! Submarine-launched torpedoes—16 of them!"

Li's blood ran cold. "What?!" His mind reeled as he tried to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, sir! The torpedoes are moving at impossible speeds—there's no time to evade!"

"Brace for impact!" Li bellowed, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability. The crew scrambled to secure themselves, knowing full well that the incoming threat was something far beyond conventional weaponry.

The torpedoes were not ordinary in any sense. Crafted with the arcane arts of the Milishial Empire, these weapons were designed to hunt and kill divine beasts—creatures of myth and legend, colossal beings of unimaginable power that were walking disasters in their own right. The Milishial Empire had long since harnessed the forces of nature and magic to protect their realm from these catastrophic beings, and now, those same weapons were being unleashed on the Chinese fleet.

As the torpedoes closed in, the water around them began to tremble. The weapons were designed not to strike directly but to detonate in proximity, their payloads delivering devastation in the form of an ultrasonic shockwave, coupled with a deathly spell woven into their cores. The energy they released was intended to tear apart the very fabric of reality, resonating with frequencies that could rupture the blood vessels of any living creature within a 50-mile radius.

The moment the torpedoes detonated, the sea itself seemed to scream. A ripple of pure destruction radiated outwards, distorting the water as if reality itself were being twisted by unseen hands. The sonic vibrations, amplified by the arcane spell, traveled through the depths like a tidal wave of death.

The Chinese submarines, caught in the epicenter of this dark sorcery, were the first to feel its wrath. The vibrations tore through their hulls with an unholy ferocity, shattering metal and glass as if they were mere twigs. Inside, the crew barely had time to register the assault before their bodies were violently contorted by the forces at play. Blood vessels exploded, muscles spasmed uncontrollably, and internal organs were pulverized into a gruesome slurry. Men died where they stood, their bodies shredded from within by the malevolent forces unleashed by the Milishial weaponry.

The surface vessels of the Chinese fleet fared slightly better, spared from the full brunt of the attack by the buffering effect of the sea. However, the waters around them churned and boiled with the aftermath, the ocean turned into a frothing, bloody cauldron filled with the corpses of countless marine creatures. The once-clear waters were now a horrifying spectacle of death, littered with the floating remains of fish and sea mammals whose bodies had been ruptured and twisted beyond recognition.

Onboard the Nanjing, the shockwave hit like a physical blow. The ship's hull groaned under the pressure, and for a moment, it felt as if the entire vessel would be torn apart. Alarms wailed as systems went haywire, the supernatural energies released by the torpedoes overwhelming the ship's sensors and electronics. The sonar arrays were the first to fail, the ultrasonic vibrations scrambling them beyond repair, leaving the fleet deaf and blind in the water.

Admiral Li staggered as the Nanjing was rocked by the blast, barely able to keep his footing. His mind raced, trying to comprehend the full scale of the devastation. He knew these weapons were intended for beasts of legend, not for human beings. The sheer overkill of the situation was staggering. Thousands of men—his men—had just been erased in the blink of an eye.

"Report!" he demanded, though his voice was hoarse, thick with disbelief and growing rage.

An officer, his face ashen, managed to respond, "Admiral, we've lost contact with all submarines. Sonar is completely down—our systems are fried. The sea is—"

The officer's voice trailed off as he stared at the viewscreens, unable to put into words the horror that was unfolding before him. On the screens, the scene outside was apocalyptic. The ocean around the fleet was littered with the remains of countless sea creatures, their bodies floating lifelessly in the blood-red water. Some were still intact, their eyes wide with terror, while others were nothing more than chunks of flesh and bone, torn apart by the immense forces at play. Even the sea monsters that lurked in the depths had not been spared; their massive, twisted corpses bobbed on the surface, a grim testament to the terrifying power that had been unleashed.

Li's heart twisted with a mix of horror and fury. The magnitude of the loss was beyond comprehension. The Milishial had struck with a weapon designed to kill gods, and now, the sea was filled with the bodies of mortals. The sight was apocalyptic, the aftermath of a battle that had escalated far beyond the scope of human conflict.

XXXXXXXX

Beneath the tumultuous waves, the HMES Silvanius Nox was itself reeling from the aftershocks of its own actions. The submarine had unleashed its deadly payload, and now it had to contend with the consequences. The water around the vessel boiled with residual energy, the result of the Milishial torpedoes' detonation.

Captain Leoric Gray stood on the command deck, his face illuminated by the flickering lights of the control panels. The submarine's magical sensors were struggling to cope with the unprecedented forces at play. The sonic shockwaves had distorted the very fabric of the sea, and the Nox's systems were straining to filter out the noise and regain some semblance of normal operation.

"Shields to maximum!" Captain Gray ordered, his voice tense. He knew that even the Silvanius Nox, with its advanced magical defenses, was not immune to the destructive forces it had just unleashed.

The crew responded with practiced efficiency, the submarine's shield generators humming to life as they pushed their output to the limit. The shields, a complex weave of arcane energy and advanced technology, formed an invisible barrier around the vessel, protecting it from external threats. But even this formidable defense was being tested to its limits.

Marcus Alvar, the submarine's weapons officer, stood at his station, his hands still trembling from the act he had just committed. The voice in his head, the dark influence of Bramptovich, had momentarily receded, leaving him with the hollow realization of what he had done. He had acted against orders, had unleashed a weapon of mass destruction, and now the consequences were unfolding before his eyes.

Captain Gray turned to Alvar, his eyes blazing with fury. "Alvar, what in the name of all that's holy were you thinking? You've just endangered the entire fleet, not to mention starting a war that could destroy us all!"

Alvar's mouth opened, but no words came out. He knew there was no excuse, no justification for what he had done. The anger, the hatred that had driven him to act had been fueled by something more than just his own emotions. But how could he explain that to his captain? How could he admit that his thoughts had been twisted, manipulated by some unseen force?

"I…" Alvar began, but Captain Gray cut him off.

"Save it," Gray snapped. "We'll deal with this later. Right now, we need to focus on surviving what's coming next. I don't know what kind of hell we've unleashed, but we need to be ready for anything."

Through the periscope, the crew could see the aftermath—the sea had become a floating graveyard. Dead fish, shattered submarine debris, and the blood of countless men stained the water. The Silvanius Nox had become a harbinger of death, and every soul aboard was now haunted by the devastation they had wrought. The weight of their actions was inescapable, marking them forever.

Captain Gray's voice cut through the silence, barely more than a whisper. "Dear gods… what have we done?"

The Silvanius Nox shuddered as another wave of energy washed over it, the shields straining to hold back the destructive forces. The submarine's magical sensors, designed to detect even the faintest trace of mana in the water, were nearly overwhelmed by the chaotic energies released by the torpedoes.

"Sir, we're picking up residual mana signatures all around us," the sensor officer reported, his voice tight with anxiety. "It's… it's like the water itself is infused with raw magic. Our systems are struggling to process it."

Captain Gray nodded grimly. "Keep those shields up and maintain full sensor sweeps. We need to know if there's any sign of enemy submarines in the area. If they survived that blast, they might be looking for payback."

The crew worked in tense silence, the weight of their situation pressing down on them like a physical force. The Silvanius Nox was one of the most advanced submarines in the Milishial fleet, but even it was not invincible. The waters of the South Irnetia Sea had become a battleground, and the Nox was right in the middle of it.

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Admiral Li Pengcheng stood frozen, his mind struggling to process the devastation. The magnitude of the attack was beyond anything he could have imagined. Thousands had died in an instant, victims of a weapon so powerful, so brutal, that it defied comprehension. The Milishial had turned the sea into a graveyard, a macabre display of their might. The sight was beyond anything he had ever imagined, a nightmare that he couldn't wake from.

"Admiral," a young officer's voice broke the silence, trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. "What… what do we do now?"

Li's hands clenched into tight fists, his knuckles turning white as the crushing weight of the situation pressed down on him. His chest tightened with a suffocating heaviness, each breath a laborious effort. The realization that he had led his fleet into a trap, that he was responsible for the slaughter of thousands, was almost too much to bear. But there was no room for self-pity. The choice had been made for him.

"Prepare to retaliate," Li said, his voice cold and unyielding as steel. "We will not let this go unanswered."

The bridge fell into a heavy silence as his words sank in. The crew understood the gravity of his command. There would be no room for negotiation, no possibility of peace. Only a relentless drive for retribution.

Li turned to his communications officer. "Get me a line to every ship in the fleet. I want all vessels on high alert. Prepare the carrier group for immediate action. Our J-35 squadrons must be ready to launch the moment we give the order."

"Yes, sir," the officer responded, his voice steadier now. The command brought a sense of direction, cutting through the chaos like a beacon.

Li's mind raced as he strategized their next move. The Milishial fleet was a formidable opponent, their magic and technology almost otherworldly. But China had its own arsenal, and it was time to unleash it. He could already picture the missiles arcing through the sky, drones streaking through the air, and aircraft diving in a deadly ballet of destruction.

"We'll hit them with everything we have," Li continued, his eyes blazing with fierce determination. "Missiles, drones, aircraft—whatever it takes. They've drawn first blood, and we will ensure they pay for every single life they've taken."

The cost of vengeance would be staggering, a toll in lives and resources that would reshape the world. But the die was cast. There was no turning back. The fleet's response would be swift, brutal, and unrelenting.

As the orders were disseminated, the fleet sprang into action with a newfound sense of purpose. The carrier Nanjing's decks came alive with frenetic energy as ground crews and pilots prepared for the coming assault. Aircraft were readied, their engines roaring to life in a symphony of impending carnage. The remaining ships formed a deadly formation, their crews bracing for the combat that loomed on the horizon.

Admiral Li stood resolute at the heart of the bridge, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the enemy lay in wait. The sea had become a battlefield soaked in blood, and the horrors witnessed would fuel a relentless drive for vengeance. The destruction around him was a sobering reminder of the stakes involved, but it also steeled his resolve. He would not rest until the Milishial Empire had been brought to its knees.

"Ready the fleet," Li commanded, his voice steady and resolute. "We strike back now. We will not stop until we've made them suffer for every drop of blood spilled."

The bridge buzzed with a grim determination, a focus born of the need for retribution. The Chinese fleet, though bloodied, was not broken. It was a beast wounded but still dangerous, ready to strike with the fury of a cornered predator.

The sky above darkened, the heavens themselves seeming to mourn the immense loss and suffering below. But there was no time for grief, no room for lamentation.

War had begun in earnest, and it would be a conflict marked by fire and blood.

"They shall be avenged," Li whispered fiercely to himself, his eyes narrowing with the fire of relentless vengeance. "For every one of ours that has fallen, they will pay a hundredfold."

With that, China's First Expeditionary Fleet surged forward, a tide of fury and wrath unleashed. The sea was a graveyard, but it was also a battleground, and the battle would rage until every last vestige of the enemy's power was shattered beneath the weight of their rage. The waters, now a canvas of death and destruction, would soon bear witness to a storm of retaliation that would leave no doubt of China's resolve.

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As the conflict between China and the Holy Milishial Empire erupted, the world's gaze was riveted on the South Irnetia Sea. The two warring powers were locked in a confrontation that would potentially reshape the global order. Yet, the stage was not solely occupied by these great empires. A mere 200 kilometers from the Chinese fleet, an observation fleet from several of the world's most influential nations hovered in silence, their vessels bristling with antennas and sensors. These nations, though officially neutral, had gathered to witness firsthand the clash between Novus Orbis's most powerful empire, the Holy Milishial Empire, and the enigmatic but formidable nation of China.

High above the tumultuous skies, at an altitude of 15,000 meters, a modified B-291 Zenith heavy bomber cruised steadily. This aircraft was far more than a mere war machine; it was a mobile fortress of information, carrying the cutting-edge surveillance technology of Orosenga Today, the leading news network of the Commune of Mu. The bomber's mission was to document and broadcast the unfolding drama below, capturing every crucial detail of the confrontation for the world to see.

Inside the B-291, the atmosphere was charged with tension. The crew operated with a mixture of focused determination and palpable anxiety, fully aware of the gravity of their task.

"How's the feed?" the lead cameraman, Yara, inquired, his voice steady but edged with tension.

"Crystal clear," Mai, the technician in charge of the camera systems, responded crisply. "We're getting everything. The clarity is unreal."

The aircraft was equipped with state-of-the-art imaging technology, tailored for capturing the most minute details from great distances. Its trimetrogon "A" camera system featured three 24-inch focal-length lenses, capable of resolving up to 60 lines per millimeter, providing ground resolution down to 24 inches. The more advanced "B" camera, with a 36-inch focal length and sophisticated image motion compensation, could resolve up to 100 lines per millimeter, capturing ground details as small as 9.1 inches. This panoramic setup allowed the crew to capture sweeping images of the ocean, where the massive naval engagement unfolded beneath them.

"Pan left, Mai," Yara directed, his gaze locked on the monitors. "We need a full view of both fleets. Ensure the radar signatures are prominent."

"Got it," Mai responded, her fingers expertly manipulating the camera controls. The screens in front of them displayed a vast expanse of the ocean, with the tiny, intricate details of the Chinese and Milishial fleets clearly visible. Every movement, every flash of light from explosions, was meticulously recorded on the six-thousand-foot reels of film spinning in the camera bays.

The pilot, Korvan, peered out through the cockpit windows, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Do you think they know we're up here?" he asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.

"They might suspect, but they're too engrossed in the battle to care," Yara replied, his eyes never leaving the monitors. "This is the moment, Korvan. This footage will redefine how the world views this conflict. The sheer power of these nations will be undeniable."

The stakes were unmistakably high. This was not just another news report but a pivotal moment in global history. The images and data they were capturing would soon be broadcast to billions, revealing the raw, terrifying might of the Holy Milishial Empire and the audacious challenge posed by China. Every frame of film and every second of footage would influence public opinion, sway governmental policies, and potentially alter the trajectory of future conflicts.

"Let's get closer to the action," Yara ordered, leaning forward in his seat. "We need to capture the raw intensity of this battle. This is history in the making."

As the bomber adjusted its course, the crew braced themselves for the impending barrage of visual and sensory stimuli. Below, the confrontation between the two great powers unfolded in vivid, explosive detail. The B-291 Zenith, with its advanced surveillance technology, was positioned to capture every pivotal moment, ensuring that the world would bear witness to the clash of titans that had just begun. The footage they gathered would serve as an unfiltered window into the ferocity of the battle, etching the conflict into the annals of history with unparalleled clarity.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The endless expanse of the ocean stretched out beneath a canopy of stars, their distant light casting an ethereal glow over the surface. The HMES Invictus Arcanum, the flagship of the Milishial fleet, cut through the water with a purposeful grace, its immense form reflecting the luminescence of the celestial display. This mighty vessel was not just a symbol of power but a bastion of Milishial arcane technology, its hull encrusted with enchantments and runes designed to repel any threat.

The ship's advanced magical sensors, the Sentinel Praesidium Dominus-12 and Observator Praesidium Sagacitas-50, were among the most sophisticated in existence. Their mana-infused arrays extended across vast distances, piercing the veil of reality itself to detect threats both mundane and mystical. Yet, despite the technological marvels embedded in the Invictus Arcanum, an insidious and unseen threat loomed on the horizon—one that eluded even their formidable magical sensors.

On the bridge, Rear Admiral Kaelith Morvannis stood with an air of stern concentration, his gaze fixed on the expansive viewport. The reflection of the starry sky mirrored his thoughts—turbulent and fraught with the weight of responsibility. He was a commoner by birth, elevated to his current rank through sheer merit, yet the political elite of the Milishial Empire often underestimated the threats posed by those who did not wield magic. Tonight, that oversight was about to be brutally exposed.

"Commander Laelia," Morvannis's voice cut through the low hum of the bridge, calm yet underscored with palpable tension. "Status on our sensor systems?"

Commander Laelia, a tall and lithe elf with silver hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall of moonlight, was stationed at her console. Her fingers moved with practiced ease over the crystal interfaces of the ship's mana sensor array. Her sharp, alert eyes scanned the screens, betraying no hint of the frustration she felt with their current predicament.

"All systems nominal, Admiral," Laelia reported, her voice carrying a controlled urgency. "The Svalinn combat systems are fully operational, and our magical radars are sweeping at maximum range. However, as we're aware, these are less effective against the Chinese."

Morvannis nodded grimly. The Milishial fleet, spearheaded by the mighty HMES Invictus Arcanum, was equipped with the most advanced dual-mode magic sensor arrays on the planet. These arrays, unparalleled in their sophistication, operated in two distinct modes. The magic mode, the pride of Milishial's arcane technology, could detect the faintest magical presence, even as small as a human mage hidden aboard a ship two thousand kilometers away. This capability had long given the Milishial Empire a distinct advantage in naval warfare, allowing them to locate and neutralize threats before they could even pose a danger.

However, the Chinese, with their complete lack of magic, presented a unique challenge. Their machines and personnel were entirely devoid of any magical energy, rendering the Milishial magic sensors nearly useless. The only option was to switch to the less advanced non-magic mode. In this mode, the sensor array converted magical energy into electrical energy, emitting radio waves to detect non-magical objects, functioning similarly to a conventional radar. While effective in many situations, this system was significantly less capable than its magical counterpart and had one glaring vulnerability—it could be jammed by conventional electromagnetic interference (EMI) devices. Rear Admiral Kaelith Morvannis was deeply aware of this vulnerability. He had voiced his concerns to the Senate and even to Prince Caspian himself, but the arrogance and complacency of the Milishial leadership led them to dismiss the Chinese as a non-magical backwater. Now, that complacency was about to be tested in the most brutal way possible

"Keep me updated," Morvannis instructed, turning away from the viewport to focus on the central tactical display. His mind raced through the various scenarios, each more grim than the last. The Chinese fleet, despite being conventional in its technology, had shown itself to be formidable in both strategy and execution. Admiral Li Pengcheng was known for his innovative tactics, and Morvannis could not afford to underestimate him.

The tension on the bridge mounted as the moments ticked by. Morvannis's instincts were sharp, honed by years of experience and an unwavering commitment to his duty. His gaze flickered to the tactical hologram of the fleet, each ship a gleaming icon representing the might of Milishial's naval power.

As the Milishial fleet adjusted its sensor arrays, the Chinese assault began in earnest.

From the decks of the supercarriers Nanjing, Taiwan, Heilongjiang, and Shandong, swarms of J-16D electronic warfare aircraft launched into the sky. The aircraft took off using the carrier's electromagnetic catapults, swiftly climbing to altitude under the cover of low radar cross-section (RCS) profiles. Each aircraft was bristling with pods containing DRFM (Digital Radio Frequency Memory) jammers, ESM (Electronic Support Measures) receivers, and KLJ-7A AESA (Active Electronically Scanned Array) radars. Their mission was to suppress the Milishial fleet's electronic and radar capabilities before the main strike force was deployed.

Without warning, the peace was shattered by a sudden and harsh blare of alarms, red lights flashing in sync with the increasing urgency of the situation. The atmosphere on the bridge thickened with a palpable sense of dread. Morvannis's head snapped towards the sensor station as the clamor of alerts grew louder.

"Admiral, the radar is picking up multiple contacts!" an officer's voice cut through the cacophony, tinged with panic.

Morvannis's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to the display. The radar screen, usually a display of organized blips and clear data, was now a chaotic swirl of ghostly figures. The sheer volume of contacts was overwhelming—an unsettling sea of points on the screen that seemed to pulsate with a life of their own.

"Ghosts," Morvannis muttered under his breath, the word heavy with frustration. "The Chinese have commenced their electronic warfare assault."

The bridge fell into a strained silence, punctuated only by the incessant alarms. The realization that the Milishial fleet's sensors, designed to detect the presence of magic, were now virtually blind was a bitter blow. The conventional radar arrays, which were less sophisticated and more susceptible to interference, had become the fleet's last line of defense.

Ensign Velorum, his face pale with stress, struggled to keep up with the frantic pace of information flowing across his screen. "Admiral, the radar returns are a complete mess!" he reported, his voice barely audible over the din of alarms. "I can't discern which targets are real anymore!"

"Switch to alternative sensor modes," Morvannis ordered, his voice firm and commanding. "Activate the anti-jamming protocols immediately, and have the Svalinn systems prepare for countermeasures."

The crew sprang into action, their movements sharp and precise as they initiated countermeasures. The atmosphere in the bridge was tense, each crew member focused on their tasks with a palpable sense of urgency. But as the counter-jamming efforts commenced, the incoming signals seemed to multiply uncontrollably. The Chinese jammers were not static; they were adaptive, their frequencies shifting and modulating in response to the Milishial countermeasures. The displays on the bridge were a cacophony of chaos, with false targets and ghost images dancing erratically across the screens.

"Damn them," Morvannis muttered through gritted teeth. "They're using DRFM jammers. They're capturing our signals and throwing them back at us."

Accompanying the J-16Ds, GJ-11 stealth drones flew autonomously in a swarm configuration. They used LPI (Low Probability of Intercept) communications to coordinate their activities without being easily detected. These drones were equipped with H/LK-5 EW systems designed for pinpoint jamming of American communications and datalinks. Although these systems were useless against Milishial's magic-based communication systems, the drones had other tricks. They deployed next-generation ADM-165C decoys that replicated the radar signature of larger aircraft. These decoys simulated a Chinese attack wave from a different vector than the actual incoming threat, causing the Milishial fleet to reorient their defenses.

Commander Laelia, her silver hair catching the ambient light of the bridge, stood resolutely by his side. Her sharp eyes were fixed on the displays, her expression one of grim determination. "Admiral, we're also detecting LPI communications—low probability of intercept. The Chinese drones are coordinating their movements without triggering our long-range sensors."

Morvannis clenched his fists tightly, the knuckles whitening. The Chinese were executing their strategy with chilling precision. Their J-16D electronic warfare aircraft were blanketing the electromagnetic spectrum with a comprehensive jamming assault. Simultaneously, their GJ-11 stealth drones were deployed in swarm configurations, creating an illusion of multiple large aircraft and anti-ship missiles with their decoys and jammers.

"Deploy our own drones immediately," Morvannis commanded, his voice cutting through the tension. "We need eyes in the sky that can cut through this electronic fog. And launch a sweep with our Silver-Class subs—have them use passive sonar to detect any enemy ships in the vicinity."

As the orders were relayed, the Invictus Arcanum began a swift course adjustment, maneuvering within the tight formation of the Milishial fleet. The air around the ship crackled with the energy of the Svalinn systems as massive gun turrets swiveled, their powerful barrels tracking the phantom targets. Despite the arcane might at their disposal, the Milishial ships were essentially blind. The radar arrays locked onto decoys, their targeting systems misguided by the false signals.

Meanwhile, aboard the Type-004 supercarrier Nanjing, Admiral Li Pengcheng watched the battle unfold through the command center's holographic displays. The real-time data from the GJ-11 drones fed into the combat information system, coordinating the next phase of the attack. Li's expression was one of cold determination, his eyes fixed on the holographic representation of the Milishial fleet.

"Prepare for the missile strike," Li ordered. "The Milishials are blinded, but we cannot afford to underestimate them. All units, commence the attack."

The Chinese fleet moved into a pincer formation, with the destroyers and aircraft positioning themselves for a missile strike now that the Milishial defenses were impaired.

"Incoming missiles—engaging interceptors!" the weapons officer shouted, his voice urgent and strained.

The deck of the Invictus Arcanum erupted in a frenzy of activity. The ship's 40mm guns roared to life, their rapid fire punctuating the air with deafening bursts. The magical bolts, however, were aimed at phantoms—illusory targets created by the Chinese decoys. The decoys had succeeded in drawing the Milishial gunners' attention away from the true threats. And while the Milishial gunners were engaged in shooting at shadows, the real attack was poised to strike.

"New contacts—massive missile launches detected!" the sensor officer's voice cracked with alarm. "Eight squadrons of J-35s have launched anti-radiation missiles. 320 YJ-91 inbound, heading straight for us!"

Morvannis' heart sank as the scale of the threat became clear. The YJ-91 missiles were designed to home in on radar emissions, and they were coming for the Milishial fleet's eyes—their Sentinel and Observator radars.

"Activate the Aegis shield immediately!" Morvannis barked, his voice edged with desperation. "All ships, prepare for impact!"

The Invictus Arcanum's deck thrummed with energy as the ship's Aegis Lux Lucis shield activated. A shimmering, multicolored dome of light enveloped the vessel, layers of mana-infused barriers designed to repel any attack. Yet even as the shield formed, the Chinese missiles were closing in, their lethal payloads streaking through the night sky.

The YJ-91s, moving at blinding speeds, released decoys as they approached, their electronic signatures splitting into dozens of false targets. The Chinese had not simply launched a missile strike; they had engineered a multi-dimensional assault designed to overwhelm and confuse the fleet's defenses.

The Svalinn system, a cutting-edge defensive network capable of detecting and neutralizing threats in an instant, responded as it was programmed to. Interceptor spells, glowing with a brilliant blue-white light, surged from the ship's arrays. Simultaneously, anti-aircraft batteries roared to life, spitting streams of enchanted fire at the incoming decoys. In the blink of an eye, the night was lit up by a spectacular display of magical countermeasures and missile intercepts. Superflare interceptor spells erupted from the Invictus Arcanum and other vessels in the fleet, massive arcs of mana-infused energy exploding outward in a radial, fan-like fashion. The sky filled with fiery explosions and hailstorms of shrapnel, but all for nothing. The ultra-high temperature shock wave boundary layer created by the missiles' extremely high velocity effectively neutralized this attack.

"Sir, the interceptors aren't hitting the targets!" Ensign Velorum's voice rang out, sharp with panic. "They're too fast!"

Morvannis felt a cold sweat break out on his brow. "Damn it!" he swore under his breath. The realization hit him like a physical blow—the Svalinn system, as advanced as it was, had its limits. It had been designed primarily to counter magical threats, not the high-speed, non-magical missiles that were now streaking toward them with deadly precision at Mach 4.

The first wave of YJ-91 missiles hit with the force of a sledgehammer. The impacts resonated through the hull of the Invictus Arcanum, each detonation sending shockwaves rippling across the shield. The energy field crackled and flared, holding back the explosive force but groaning under the immense strain. The night sky lit up with the fiery trails of the missiles, their contrails glowing like shooting stars as they zeroed in on their targets.

"Shields holding at 90 percent," a technician reported, his voice tight with tension. "80 percent… 70 percent…"

Morvannis' grip on the railing tightened. He could feel the deck vibrating beneath his feet, the powerful engines of the ship working overtime to keep the shield operational. But the barrage was relentless. The Chinese had launched over a hundred missiles, and they were coming in waves, each one hammering at the shield with merciless precision.

"Redirect all power to the shield!" Morvannis ordered, his voice a commanding shout that cut through the cacophony. "We can't afford to lose it!"

The bridge lights dimmed abruptly as power was rerouted to the shield generators. Outside, the Aegis shield flared even brighter, its colors intensifying as the ship's systems strained to maintain the barrier. The next wave of YJ-91s hit like a freight train, their impacts reverberating through the hull. The shield, pushed to its limits, began to falter. Cracks of light appeared in the dome, tiny fractures in the mana-infused barrier that were swiftly widening.

The third wave of missiles was the death knell. The YJ-91s punched through the weakening shield with terrifying force, each impact a thunderous explosion that rocked the Invictus Arcanum to its core. The mana barriers flickered, the shimmering light dimming as the shield struggled to recover. But the damage was done.

"Shields down to 50 percent!" another technician called out, his voice high with urgency. "40 percent… 30 percent…"

The Invictus Arcanum shuddered violently as the missiles found their mark. The once-impenetrable shield was now riddled with breaches, each one allowing more of the lethal payloads to strike the ship directly. Explosions ripped through the upper decks, sending plumes of fire and debris into the air. The bridge shook with the force of the blasts, the lights flickering as power surged and ebbed.

"We've lost the Sentinel!" Laelia's voice was strained but resolute as she reported the catastrophic failure. "The Observator is offline! We're losing our radar systems!"

Morvannis slammed his fist onto the console, the impact reverberating through the bridge. "All hands, brace for impact!" he shouted, his voice slicing through the chaos. The Invictus Arcanum was now essentially flying blind, its primary sensor systems devastated, leaving it with a severely compromised situational awareness.

The final waves of YJ-91 missiles struck the Invictus Arcanum's amidship radar array with a series of deafening explosions. The impact was catastrophic. Armor plates buckled and crumpled under the relentless force, the hull groaning in protest as the structure was tested to its limits. The shockwaves reverberated through the ship, rattling every compartment and sending loose objects crashing to the floor.

"Damage report!" Morvannis demanded, fighting to keep his balance as the ship lurched violently. He gripped the edge of the console, his knuckles white as the ship's systems strained under the assault.

"Primary sensor systems are down!" an officer shouted over the din, his voice tinged with urgency. "No hull breaches detected, the armor is holding! Casualties reported on Deck 4—medics en route!

Morvannis' gaze was steely as he surveyed the chaos. The damage was significant, but the Invictus Arcanum was not out of the fight yet. The ship, despite its severe impairment, was still a potent symbol of Milishial power.

"Commander Laelia," he said, his tone firm despite the turmoil, "we need to restore some semblance of order. Deploy the secondary sensors—whatever we have left. Get the damage control teams to the radar sites, and reroute all non-essential power to the weapons systems. We may be blind, but we can still hit back."

Laelia, her silver hair glinting in the erratic lighting of the bridge, nodded with a fierce determination. "Aye, Admiral. I'll see to it personally."

She moved swiftly, her voice cutting through the chaos as she relayed orders to the crew. Her steps were quick and purposeful, a sharp contrast to the disorder surrounding them. She coordinated with the damage control teams, who were already moving with practiced efficiency, their boots pounding against the metal floors as they headed towards the damaged radar sites.

As Laelia worked to stabilize the situation, Morvannis' attention remained focused on the remaining screens. The primary radars were out of commission, but secondary systems began to flicker to life, their readings sporadic but functional. The Chinese had played their hand with ruthless efficiency, but they had underestimated the resolve of the Milishial fleet.

Despite the crippling damage, the Invictus Arcanum's magical arsenal and reinforced armor were still formidable. The ship's immense weaponry, capable of devastating any foe, was ready for retaliation.

Morvannis glanced at the crew, his mind racing through tactical options. The Invictus Arcanum, once a symbol of invincibility, was now battered and blinded, but it still represented the pinnacle of Milishial engineering. The Chinese fleet was closing in, their superiority in electronic warfare evident, but the fight was far from over. Invictus Arcanum had taken over a hundred missiles to break the shield, and yet the vessel still stood, battered but unbroken.

"Status of the rest of the fleet?" Morvannis called out, his voice cutting through the cacophony.

"Titanium-Class heavy cruisers are reporting minor damage to their systems," an officer reported, his fingers flying across the console as he gathered data. "The Adamant and Aetherium-Class ships are holding strong, but they're being targeted by additional missile waves."

Morvannis' mind raced, analyzing the tactical situation. The Milishial fleet was still formidable, but they had lost their primary advantage: their superior range and targeting capabilities. The Chinese had neutralized those advantages with brutal precision. Now, it was a battle of wits, and Morvannis knew that Admiral Li Pengcheng was not a foe to be taken lightly.

"All ships," Morvannis said into the fleet-wide channel, his voice steady and authoritative despite the chaos around him. "This is Admiral Morvannis. We've sustained heavy damage, but we are not finished. Prepare for close-quarters combat. We will engage at close range and demonstrate to the Chinese what it truly means to face the full might of the Milishial Empire."

The message crackled through the fleet's communication channels, each ship's crew bracing themselves for the impending clash. The Milishial ships, though visually impaired and battle-scarred, were a testament to the Empire's strength. Morvannis knew they faced an uphill battle, but he was determined to lead his fleet through this harrowing ordeal with unwavering resolve.

"Launch the visual drones!" Morvannis commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos with renewed determination. "We need eyes on the battlefield. Target the J-35s manually if we have to!"

The order was swiftly relayed, and within moments, a squadron of Aethereal Recon Drones was launched from the Invictus Arcanum's deck. These drones, each a marvel of Milishial's arcane engineering, were designed for high-speed reconnaissance and visual targeting. They zipped through the air like silver bullets, their enchanted optics scanning the skies for the incoming missiles and the Chinese fighter jets that had launched them.

The Invictus Arcanum's tactical systems, now partially restored, began to track the incoming threats. The secondary sensors provided fragmented but crucial information about the enemy's movements. Morvannis, watching the live feed from the drones, saw the sleek J-35s darting through the clouds, their missile trails a stark reminder of the ongoing threat.

"Adjust targeting arrays to manual control," Morvannis ordered. "Prepare to engage the J-35s and any enemy vessels. We can't afford to be passive. Let's show them what a Milishial warship can do when it's pushed to the brink."