Chapter 35. The 0th Magic Fleet. Part 1.
The Holy Mirishial Empire, Port City of Cartalpas
The Fifth Day of the Summit of the Eleven Great Powers
On this historic day, the Russian Federation was officially recognized as the fourth most powerful superpower in the New World. While the decision wasn't unanimous, eight out of the eleven delegations—with the exception of the Gra Valkas Empire and the Annorial Empire—voted in favor of admitting the Russian Federation into the ranks of the world's leading eleven nations. Among those who cast their vote in Russia's favor were:
The Holy Mirishial Empire
Mu
The Kingdom of Emor
The Agartha Kingdom
The Torquia Kingdom
Pandora Greater Magic Principality
Magicaraich Community
The Nigrat Union
To mark the occasion, a banquet was held at the Imperial Embassy, providing ambassadors and diplomats the opportunity to discuss future cooperation and mutual interests.
The Fourth Day of the Summit of the Eleven Great Powers
Today, the Russian diplomatic mission departed from Cartalpas and headed eastward.
Central World. Magdola Archipelago. Southwest of the HME (Holy Mirishial Empire).
The 0th Magic Fleet of the Holy Mirishial Empire was conducting routine training exercises in the waters surrounding the Magdola Archipelago. The fleet was composed of three Mithril-class battleships, six heavy armored cruisers, five magic gunboats, and two escort ships. Officers and sailors alike were doing their best to uphold the fleet's reputation as the undefeated armada of the Holy Empire across every corner of the New World.
The waters lapping against the archipelago were stunningly clear and serene, but scattered islands and jagged rocks dotted the region like dark stains, disrupting the harmony of the seascape.
Thick fogs were a common occurrence here, and the frequent strong winds made it a dangerous area for traditional sailing ships.
"Hm?" The assistant navigator glanced at the magic radar, curiosity flickering in his eyes. On the screen, faint lime-green dots were rapidly approaching the fleet. What he saw wasn't part of the scheduled drills, so he immediately contacted the bridge.
"Captain, sir!"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Sir, we've detected unidentified vessels to our north. They're approaching at twenty-seven knots (about 50 km/h)! I attempted to contact Mu, but there's been radio silence from the unknown fleet! Total number of vessels: twelve. They've just accelerated—now at twenty-nine knots (53 km/h)!"
"What? That can't be Mu's ships… All combat stations, attention! This is the Captain! Battle alert! Prepare to engage—potential hostile force approaching!"
A piercing alarm wailed throughout the ship. Sailors and officers moved with precision, just as they had practiced in countless drills, quickly taking up their battle positions.
"Unknown fleet is now at thirty knots (56 km/h)!"
"No contacts detected on the anti-air radar!"
"Request for air support has been confirmed! Estimated arrival of strike group: fifteen minutes! All twenty-five Beta-2 aircraft are now airborne!"
Reports poured into the radio control room one after another. Admiral Battista, commanding officer of the 0th Magic Fleet, walked over to Captain Cromwell of the flagship Mithril-class battleship Colebrand.
"What's your take, Cromwell?"
"Sir," the captain replied, doing his best to stay composed, "there's a strong possibility the approaching fleet belongs to the Gra Valkas Empire. As you know, our magic detectors can't pick up mechanical ships unless there's a large crew onboard. The concerning part is that Gra Valkas employs non-magical aviation. Our sensors will only detect them once they're right on top of us."
On the horizon, black plumes of smoke began to rise from the enemy fleet drawing closer.
"Well, looks like our guests have arrived," the admiral muttered, thoughtfully stroking his chin.
"Filthy barbarians… they have no concept of what it means to wield magic." He narrowed his eyes. "Time to teach them some manners. Gentlemen!" he raised his voice for the entire command crew to hear, "Let's show these arrogant upstarts the true power of the 0th Magic Fleet! Do not tarnish the honor of our Empire!"
"Yes! For the Holy Mirishial Empire!" a thunderous chorus of hundreds of sailors and officers rang out across the decks.
Admiral Battista allowed himself the faintest of smiles. His expression was calm, but his eyes held a steely resolve — to meet the enemy head-on.
Fleet of the Gra Valkas Empire. South of the 0th Magic Fleet's position.
The Gra Valkas Empire's fleet consisted of two high-speed battleships, three heavy cruisers, two light cruisers, and five destroyers. They surged ahead at full speed, slicing through the open sea.
Onboard the Betelgeuse-class flagship, Vice Admiral Alkaid raised his binoculars. Enemy vessels could be seen in the distance. After surveying the opposing fleet, Alkaid turned to Captain Berdan.
— "They've got us outnumbered. Don't let me down, Captain."
— "Understood, Vice Admiral."
— "Report!" barked a lieutenant, snapping to attention. "Radar has picked up enemy aircraft—twenty-five units. Estimated time of arrival: seventeen minutes."
— "Prepare for anti-air engagement. Destroyers, move ahead and launch a torpedo assault on their formation," ordered Vice Admiral Alkaid.
— "Yes, sir!" the lieutenant responded and relayed the order to the radio operators.
The destroyers at the front of the formation surged forward, leaving behind trails of thick black smoke. Their steam turbines and diesel engines roared, pushing them to the limit.
Directly ahead, coming straight at them, were the three Mithril-class battleships of the Holy Mirishial Empire's fleet.
— "This is Beta-2. We have visual contact with the enemy. No enemy aircraft sighted."
The Mirishial Beta-2 squadron began a steep dive toward the enemy vessels. The magical engines of the fighters let out a piercing roar. Each aircraft carried a 520-kilogram magical bomb nestled in its belly.
Suddenly, brilliant flashes of light burst in the direction of the incoming aircraft.
"What the hell is that?!" shouted one of the Beta-2 pilots.
"Anti-air magical light cannons?" his co-pilot guessed.
Bolts of light began lashing the fuselages of the Mirishial fighters like a torrential storm. The anti-aircraft gunners of the Gra Valkas Empire opened fire with 7.7mm mounted machine guns. Soon, other ships joined the barrage, turning the scattered shots into a continuous curtain of blinding light. The luminous bullets exploded on even slight contact, punching through the thin wing armor of the Beta-2s.
"I'm hit—losing control!" a pilot yelled as his plane spiraled. Engulfed in flames, his aircraft plummeted toward the earth.
"No way… Their rounds can deal damage even without a direct hit?!"
The relentless storm of fire continued to sow chaos among the attacking Beta-2 formation. The loss of even a single fighter weighed heavily on the pilots' morale. The closer they got to the target, the higher the risk. One by one, the Mirishial aircraft were falling, wreathed in flames.
"Goddamn it! Their AA's too damn strong!"
By the time the squadron reached the drop point, only twenty aircraft remained in formation.
"Drop the bombs!" Squadron Commander Omega barked.
"Here's a little gift for you bastards!"
The fighters released their deadly payloads in unison, then pulled away at full throttle.
Fwwwwiiiiip...
The high-pitched whine of the magical bomb timers echoed across the sea as they fell toward the enemy battleships. The battleship Betelgeuse veered sharply to the left in a desperate attempt to dodge. Most bombs splashed harmlessly into the ocean, sending up towering columns of spray. But one struck the deck directly, erupting into a thick plume of smoke.
"Looks like that entire attack got them one hit… at the cost of five planes," Battista muttered with cold detachment, as if the outcome had been preordained.
"There you have it. Proof that our flying skyships aren't meant to slug it out in close quarters with enemy battleships. At the very least, they should've aimed for the cruisers—would've made things a hell of a lot easier."
At that moment, he began to question which specific Gra Valkan ships had actually been deployed into this fight.
"So, what do you make of it, Captain? Looks like the enemy's rolling out their gunboats. What the hell is this? A bluff? What do they think those puny cannons are gonna do?"
Cromwell tilted his head, mulling over Battista's question.
"I'm at a loss too, Fleet Commander. Maybe they're planning to use them as shields?"
"Enemy fleet will be within range of our main batteries shortly, sir!"
The battleships Coalbrand, Clarent, and Variant were already aligning their primary weapons toward the approaching enemy fleet. The heavy metal of their massive armored turrets groaned under their immense weight as the barrels of their magical guns lifted, adjusting for the distance.
"Range to enemy fleet: 18.3 nautical miles—thirty-four kilometers. They're now within reach! As soon as they enter 16.2 nautical miles—thirty clicks—you're clear to open fire at will," Admiral Battista ordered.
"Aye, sir!" responded Captain Cromwell. At his command, the gunnery officers immediately began shouting orders down to their crews.
Fleet Commander Alkaid stood staring out over the ocean, lost in thought about the cold beads of sweat that never seemed to stop running down his back. His flagship, the Betelgeuse, shuddered as one of the bombs dropped by the enemy's Beta-2 units struck its hull. Despite the weapon's raw power, the hit luckily landed on one of the Betelgeuse's most heavily armored sections, causing only superficial damage and some scorch marks on the superstructure.
"Let's show the enemy there's no place out of reach from our main guns! Prepare the batteries! Fire on my mark the moment they enter the kill zone!" he barked.
The two forward gun turrets on the Betelgeuse and Procyon, each fitted with twin 14-inch (35.6 cm) naval guns, swung into position, aiming directly at the approaching Mirishial fleet. The barrels elevated to their maximum 43-degree angle.
"Guns ready!... FIRE!"
Eight main cannons from the Betelgeuse and Procyon roared to life, splitting the air with thunderous shockwaves. Fireballs erupted from the barrels as the powder charges sent the massive armor-piercing shells screaming through the sky at a blistering Mach 2.2.
"Impact in one minute and thirteen seconds," crackled a voice over the radio room.
"5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Impact!"
Towering geysers of seawater erupted around the Mirishial fleet — an awe-inspiring display of force, but not a single round hit its mark.
"All shots missed! Recalculating firing solution!" reported the Gra Valkas officers.
The battleship turrets began grinding again, adjusting their aim based on data from the first salvo.
Suddenly, flashes erupted from the enemy fleet, followed by smoke billowing from their turrets — a clear sign they had just fired their main guns in response.
"W-What?! They're firing from this far out?!" Battista was visibly stunned.
"Their range matches ours? Maybe even exceeds it?!" Cromwell was just as shocked, realizing the implications — but this wasn't the time for amazement. Orders for defensive measures were issued immediately.
"Deploy water defense barriers! Reinforce all armor!"
A faint blue shimmer began to envelope each of the three battleships — their water defense barrier. This was a magical construct formed of condensed water, wrapping tightly around the ship's hull. The barrier dispersed the kinetic energy of incoming shells, absorbing part of the impact and channeling the rest throughout the hull, significantly reducing damage. The Mithril-class battleships' outer plating was made from a special alloy that increased in hardness when infused with magical energy. When the fortification spell activated, the mithril's crystalline lattice compressed, making the armor even more resistant to penetration. Studies had shown that out of the four classic elemental magics — water, air, fire, and earth — water and earth were the most effective at dampening the kinetic energy of metallic projectiles.
Enemy shells splashed down just a few hundred feet from the ships, sending up massive columns of water that underscored their sheer power. But the spread of the impacts also betrayed their poor accuracy at that range.
"Terrible accuracy. Disengage fortification spells and ready the main batteries!" Battista ordered, snapping back to focus.
"Yes, sir! Preparing to fire!"
The Mirishial magical weaponry required a precise charging sequence. First, magical crystals sealed inside the breech casing were activated, drawing energy from the ship's generator. Next came the projectile — a spherical container filled with a special solution and magically charged particles. Under the influence of an electric field, the magic shaped the solution into a warhead.
"Loading main batteries! Configuring warhead composition: 72% lightning, 28% fire!"
"Warhead circuitry activation complete!"
"Warhead circuits: 82% lightning, 16% fire... Battery charge at 70%... 80%... 90%... 100%!"
"Beginning charge of main battery circuits… 70%… 80%… 90%… 100%! Charge complete!"
"Main batteries ready to fire! Target data acquired from magical detection radar... Ballistic calculations complete! Set elevation to 31 degrees, azimuth offset 22 degrees left of center! Hit probability: 23%! Countdown to volley: 10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… FIRE!"
The Holy Mirishial Empire's magical battleships fired in unison from their twin triple-barreled forward turrets, unleashing a total of eighteen shells. The warheads, primed for devastating explosions, glowed a brilliant blue as they streaked skyward, leaving behind luminous trails. Reaching the apex of their trajectory, the shells began a steep, deadly descent toward the enemy fleet. Seeing the incoming salvo, the Gra Valkas fleet immediately began evasive maneuvers.
"Explosion in 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Detonation!"
Upon impact, the shells detonated, unleashing a fierce blend of lightning and fire. Columns of seawater erupted around the enemy fleet, marking all eighteen shots as misses.
"No hits. Recalculating ballistics... Correction complete: lower elevation by four degrees and adjust azimuth twenty-seven degrees to the left."
"Roger that, making adjustments now. Magical energy charge complete! Charging main battery circuits: 80%... 90%... 100%! Main batteries are ready to fire!"
"Chance of a hit: 42%! Countdown to volley: 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Fire!"
The Mirishial battleships, outpacing the enemy in reload speed, fired a second salvo.
"Let's see what we get this time!" Battista stared at the enemy fleet, tension in his body and silent pleading in his eyes.
Suddenly, flashes burst forth once again from the ships of the Gra Valkas Empire — they had returned fire with their second salvo.
"The enemy ships have fired again!"
"Shit! Deploy water barriers and reinforce all armor!" Captain Cromwell barked out.
A shimmering blue film cloaked the magical battleships once more.
Please don't hit us... Cromwell prayed silently. The second salvo, with a higher probability of hitting, was closing in. Massive plumes of water exploded around the enemy fleet again — but this time, bright red flashes burst from several of their ships.
"We scored two hits! A critical strike on one of their battleships and confirmed destruction of a gunboat!"
"YEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH!" a wave of jubilation surged across the deck.
The explosion that rocked the enemy battleship was clearly triggered by one of their shells. The damage was so extensive that the stricken ship began to lag behind its group.
"Looks like their propulsion's shot. We'll finish it off once their shells pass us!"
Then, a thunderous blast shook the Clarent, positioned three kilometers to the left of the Coalbrand.
"Clarent's been hit! They're reporting a hull breach at the waterline—she's taking on water!"
Ocean water surged into the internal compartments through a gaping hole along the waterline, and Clarent's speed dropped noticeably.
"Damn it! Their shells broke through even our magical defense barriers and reinforced armor?! That means their firepower's about on par with ours!" Battista began to visibly tremble.
Never before had any opponent pushed the 0th Magical Fleet this far — and certainly never inflicted such serious losses. The fleets continued exchanging heavy artillery fire, gradually closing to a distance of ten kilometers.
"Their gunboats are pulling back! They're... retreating!"
"What?" Admiral Battista blinked, baffled.
The small gunboats at the front of the Gra Valkas fleet suddenly veered off, increasing their distance from the Mirishial ships. Battista and Cromwell stared in confusion, brows raised.
"Why retreat now, and only now? Sure, they weren't much of a threat, but until this moment they hadn't done a thing… Maybe they're trying to avoid targeted fire?"
The fleet commander and captain exchanged shrugs, equally puzzled by the foreigners' strange maneuver.
"I thought the same thing at first, but... hell, I can't figure out what they're up to," Cromwell muttered.
"Well, whatever it is, it doesn't matter right now. Our priority is to focus all fire on that lagging battleship!"
The 0th Magical Fleet turned its sights on the Procyon, which had earlier taken a direct hit to its engines and now could barely keep pace. Under intense bombardment, the Procyon took twelve direct hits from battleships and seven more from heavy cruisers. The battered vessel split in half and slipped beneath the waves.
"Enemy battleship has been sunk!" came the triumphant cry from the deck.
"The enemy fleet is retreating! They're disengaging!" the lookout reported.
"Hmph! Such is the victory of the Empire's 0th Magical Fleet! But..." Battista turned his gaze across the battered remains of his fleet. Nothing could have prepared him for the full loss report. Although the battle ended in a strategic win by forcing the enemy to retreat, the cost had been far too steep. The pride of being the world's strongest fleet was now shaken to its core.
In total, the Gra Valkas Eastern Fleet had lost the battleship Procyon, one heavy cruiser, and a destroyer. Another heavy cruiser had sustained critical damage, and one cruiser had taken moderate damage. The Mirishial 0th Magical Fleet had lost one auxiliary vessel, while the battleship Clarent, a heavy armored cruiser, and a magical gunboat had taken heavy damage, and another gunboat suffered moderate damage.
"We're the strongest damn fleet in the whole empire, and we still took this many losses? Those bastards from Gra Valkas can never be underestimated again," Battista muttered bitterly.
To suffer such unprecedented losses against a nation from beyond the borders of the civilized world — it was the ultimate disgrace.
"Oh, shit! Sir! Something's moving below the surface!" The lookout's shout sent everyone on the bridge straining to see through the water. Near the damaged Clarent, several distinct trails were cutting rapidly toward the ship.
"No—No way!" Captain Cromwell whispered.
Moments later, torpedoes launched by Gra Valkas destroyers struck home. Massive explosions erupted along the Clarent's hull, sending huge columns of seawater into the air. The ship shuddered violently under the impact, took on critical damage, and broke apart — sinking into the sea.
"Those sons of bitches!" the captain roared. "I swear, they're gonna pay for this!"
"Unknown signals on the magical detector! Multiple objects incoming — mechanical aerial combat units, closing fast on the fleet! I count over two hundred targets! They're twenty-seven nautical miles out — that's fifty kilometers!" the lookout shouted.
Admiral Battista glared at the sky and saw that the entire sector was filled with countless black dots that were rapidly increasing in size.
"My orders are to all sides!" Get ready to conduct air defense! Increase the power of the protective barrier to one hundred and forty percent! Good luck to us and may our gods protect us.
The 0th Magic Fleet quickly put its anti-aircraft guns on alert, anticipating an imminent assault.