Chapter 236
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 236
Chapter Title: The Flagship Sunflower and the Celestial Citadel
The Empire's flagship, the Sunflower, was the largest airship in the world.
Due to its enormous mass, its flight speed was slower than that of conventional airships, making it of little value as the flagship of a flying fleet.
Nevertheless, the flying flagship held its worth in being able to observe the entire battlefield from a relatively safe distance.
Apostle of the Seventh Seat, Dordol, looked down upon the battlefield from aboard the Sunflower.
The Allied Kingdom's fleet was still not visible beyond the horizon.
However, reconnaissance airships relayed updates incessantly, and the staff officers compiled the information from the communications officers.
The enemy would enter the Empire's cannon range in a few minutes, but there was concern that the reconnaissance ships might be exposed to the enemy's air forces.
Dordol spoke.
"The enemy's mobile fleet, the 4th Fleet, was shattered in the last battle. Their mobility is restricted, so operate the reconnaissance ships in a way that avoids threats from their air forces."
The staff officers agreed with Dordol and began assessing the specific threats posed by the Allied Kingdom's air power.
Beneath the Sunflower, flying at around 200 meters altitude, was the Empire's main fleet, the 1st Fleet. The sea route leading to the waters off Lasdasil was lined with a multitude of ships that traced the Empire's naval history.
The rearmost ships were wooden vessels. These wooden ships offered little aid in combat but held value as supply and liaison vessels.
They might seem outdated, but the Allied Kingdom made even more active use of such wooden ships.
The Empire hadn't pinpointed the Allied Kingdom's fleet composition exactly, but it surmised that many wooden ships were being used as transports.
Unlike iron-hulled ships, they were lightweight, and with steam engines embedded, they could achieve considerable speed if they caught the wind right—even accounting for the risk of catastrophic damage upon being hit.
Of course, for both the Empire and the Allied fleets, the mainstays were the ironclads powered by steam engines.
Ironclads had emerged alongside the development of steam engines. Even when early engines weren't much faster than wooden ships, their ability to maintain steady speeds without relying on wind was invaluable.
Later models combined steam power with magic or rubber propulsion, compensating for slow speeds while growing to the size of conventional wooden ships, thus increasing cargo capacity. They successfully replaced wooden vessels entirely after the transitional period.
The ships of the Empire's 1st Fleet were all late-model ironclads. Some renowned ones were as massive as the airship Sunflower, employing triple propulsion systems—steam, magic, and rubber—and mounted enormous cannons.
The warfare between the Empire, the Allied Kingdom, and the Ronante-Oroban navies over the past few decades mirrored the historical interplay between knights and armor.
Initially, stone tools sufficed as weapons for humans, but donning leather armor necessitated metal blades. To counter those blades, metal armor was developed. Then weapons grew larger to pierce the armor, prompting thicker plating in response.
As a result, prior to the invention of firearms, warfare standardized around massive two-handed weapons and thick steel armor.
Ship development followed a similar path.
Here, the "armor" was steel plating around the hull, and the "weapon" was the cannon. With the collapse of the Alchemists' Tower, gunpowder weapons advanced simultaneously across fronts, proving devastating in ship-to-ship combat. Over time, cannon sizes and ranges leaped forward.
Ships were classified into Abomination-class (early models), Monstrosity-class (larger, able to withstand heavier shells and mount bigger guns), and Divine Beast-class (massive new builds less than a decade old).
Divine Beast-class ships boasted three main guns capable of sinking peer vessels in a single salvo, cannons packed so densely across decks that aiming accuracy was augmented, plus anti-air guns for intercepting airships or dragon knights. They were moving fortresses.
"Commander, the enemy will enter the effective range of our Divine Beast-class main guns in one minute."
Dordol glanced down at the map topped with fleet miniatures.
The ogre's massive shadow engulfed it.
"Air situation?"
"None observed yet."
Dordol pondered briefly.
One minute was plenty of time, and as Apostle of the Seventh Seat—not only representing the Empire's Emperor but effectively the proxy of the Myriad Gods Temple, or more precisely, Yacheon—he could afford no hasty judgment.
'Did the annihilation of their mobile fleet make them cautious? But that alone doesn't explain everything.'
Various possibilities surfaced in Dordol's mind alongside the staff's reports.
Some were easily countered; others were not.
Even the Allied Kingdom wasn't flawless in every operation. Their sheer size could make them sluggish.
Yet undisclosed forces might have joined them—for the Empire surely had surprises the Allies hadn't detected.
'Even in the worst case...'
Dordol thought.
'The Empire's preparations are flawless.'
Having decided, Dordol issued the order.
"Operate only the minimum reconnaissance ships needed to confirm hits."
"Understood."
Many recon ships could buy time against enemy air if revealed, but minimizing them meant those left might not escape in time.
Command was a chain of choices, and sacrifice was inevitable in them.
'May the starlight guide them.'
Given the Myriad Gods Temple's faith, the remaining recon crews would embrace their role willingly, but it always pained Dordol. Few knew the truth behind the ogre stereotypes, his hulking frame, and his reputation for cold command.
Some even claimed his seat stemmed from the Temple's blessings combining with an ogre's disregard for life.
Yet Dordol too followed the Myriad Gods Temple's will.
One who doesn't grasp sacrifice's value cannot wield it.
"Delay until the enemy recon lags, then to Monstrosity-class main gun range."
"Yes, sir."
The staff swiftly relayed to the liaison officers—all upper-level mages using earthworms for reports and orders.
Communication speed matched the Allies', but detail and volume were incomparable.
Minutes later, under unified command, the main guns of the Empire's 1st, 3rd, and 4th Fleets' Divine Beast- and Monstrosity-class battleships roared.
Shells arcing kilometers mostly splashed between Allied ships.
Allied Divine Beast- and Monstrosity-class vessels slowly adjusted their gun ports.
"All first salvos duds!"
Hoping for first-shot hits was for gunners, not commanders.
Recon observations reached each ship, angles corrected instantly, and second main guns from uns fired salvos.
"One Abomination-class crippled! Two Monstrosity-class damaged! ...One Divine Beast-class damaged!"
But the staff's faces didn't brighten.
War had just begun; with the first exchange done, it was the enemy's turn to fire.
As expected, shells poured from enemy battleships.
Those near the 1st Fleet erupted massive waterspouts, towering above bridges.
"Maneuver."
As cannonades continued, the fleet slowly withdrew.
The Allies had more total ships, but mostly rear transports.
Battlewagons slightly favored the Empire, and with no enemy recon sighted, maintaining gun range suited them.
'But we can't keep retreating.'
The Empire's goal was preventing the Allied fleet from reaching Lasdasil's coast; endless fallback was pointless.
The Allies knew this too, pressing forward despite losses.
Should the Empire halt, horizon sightings from bridges enabled precise fire, matching engagement parity.
Dordol focused his mind.
Apostles could tap the Myriad Gods Temple's mental network—what gods called *whispers*.
"Aruna, have you confirmed?"
From distant skies, Apostle of the Ninth Seat Aruna replied.
"Don't nag! Almost there."
Aruna had bypassed the Allied fleet leveraging superior mobility.
Using an Apostle for recon might seem objectionable—and early on, Aruna disliked it—but none in the Empire matched her aptitude.
Now she understood the Temple's decree valuing function over status.
Piercing clouds, Aruna halted upon sighting something.
"...I see it."
Dordol asked.
"The 'that' we feared?"
"Yes."
Aruna confirmed.
"It's the Celestial Citadel."
At the same time, Seong-un borrowed Aruna's eyes to confirm the Celestial Citadel afloat off Lasdasil.
Players behind him groaned in dismay.
Im Chunsik spat.
"That bastard's insane, right?"
Emotionally, Seong-un agreed with Im Chunsik's outburst.
The Celestial Citadel was one of three castles among the players' top ten ancient ruins.
It held the highest strategic value, and Seong-un concurred.
True to its name, it was a floating castle.
A massive landmass, 2km in diameter, buoyed beneath.
In low-civ stages, it merely hovered; advanced civs added wings or engines for slow mobility.
Strictly, players rated it superior to mere mobility assets.
With vast land, it hosted bases or key institutions, deployable as needed.
At 300m altitude, it was safe from ground attacks.
And the Allied Kingdom had made it their capital.
"Who drags their capital to war?"
Seong-un replied.
"That's how desperate they are. Could even be good—after Lasdasil, the war drags on, but toppling their capital hands us victory over Hegemonia outright."
Seong-un stayed calm; Im Chunsik and others didn't argue.
Hegemonia bringing the Citadel was anticipated to some degree.
Most players figured it'd serve as a mid-supply base, not frontline.
Seong-un said.
"This much was expected, right?"
AR1026 glanced at the screen.
"Yes. And our reinforcements just appeared."
Seong-un turned.
"Faster than thought."
"Orders?"
"Let's surprise them too. Fire."
Pengolians huddled in the cramped command room.
"Just got word from the mage liaison!"
"What'd Commander Dordol say?"
"Raise gun angles way up."
The base commander nodded at the paper.
"Got it. Tell the gun crews."
The liaison dashed out; a staffer asked.
"Isn't that angle too high?"
"No worries. We got the heads-up."
"Ah, you mean..."
"Yeah. Floating sky island. Perfect, actually..."
A blaring siren echoed outside.
The base's main gun was priming.
The commander muttered.
"Our main gun's huge and heavy, hard to aim... But a sky island? Could hit blindfolded."
The Pengolian commander peered out.
A thirty-meter steel barrel rose skyward.
Such caliber was impossible on seagoing ships—recoil would sink them post-firing.
Thankfully, this wasn't a ship.
A bellow from the main gun:
"Mobile Main Gun 'None Stand Against Us'—firing in 5!"
Tension gripped the Mobility as countdown began.
"Fire!"
Excited Pengolians cheered at launch.
Muzzle flash erupted; a house-sized shell rocketed up.
Black smoke billowed; the platform shuddered absorbing recoil.
But grounded on sea, legs braced, waves dissipated the shock.
In the era of big ships and big guns, the world's largest cannon belonged not to any battleship, but the Empire's Mobility.
For this strike, Mobility had left the 4th Continent, traversing low seas to the 3rd.
Its waves rippled afar.
Some 30 kilometers away, the Celestial Citadel.
Unseen from the rear, a house-sized shell slammed its landmass.