Chapter 165: The Azure Skirmish
The Azure Sea was beautifully calm. The morning sun reflected off the pristine, crystal-clear water, creating a peaceful and almost idyllic setting.
Captain Kaelen of the Holy Empire stood at the helm of the Divine Judgent.
It was a massive, beautifully crafted wooden galleon adorned with glowing golden crosses and heavily enchanted white sails. He took a deep breath of the salty ocean air, a wide and confident smile spreading across his bearded face.
Behind him, his crew of fifty Paladin initiates were casually drinking wine and polishing their holy armor.
"The wind is perfectly at our backs, Captain," his first mate laughed, leaning casually against the wooden railing.
"We will reach the Eastern Seaboard of the Monster Continent by nightfall."
"It will hardly be a glorious conquest," Kaelen chuckled, resting his hand on his golden broadsword.
"The Zenith Academy is in ruins, and the monster tribes are fighting each other for scraps in the mud. By the ti the main Crusade fleet arrives next month, we will not even need our cannons. We will just walk onto the beaches and put collars on whatever beasts are left."
"I heard the new Sovereign is a Goblin," the first mate mocked, taking a swig of wine.
"A Goblin!" Kaelen laughed loudly, turning to his crew.
"Did you hear that, boys? The beasts are being ruled by a tunnel rat! We are going to bring his green head back to the Pope on a silver platter!"
The Paladin crew erupted into arrogant, joyous cheers. They raised their cups to the sky, praising the light and their inevitable, effortless victory over the primitive savages of the dark continent.
They did not look down.
Three hundred feet below the surface of the perfectly calm ocean, the water was violently churning.
The Iron Leviathan glided silently through the dark abyss. The massive, three-hundred-foot submarine was a masterpiece of black iron and glowing blue Mana Steel.
It moved with terrifying, chanical precision, directly beneath the path of the pristine wooden galleons.
Inside the submarine’s command center, the air was thick with the sll of ozone and hot steam.
"Target acquired," an Orc sonar-mage growled, his eyes fixed on a glowing green runic array.
"Five wooden surface vessels. Heavy holy enchantnt, zero kinetic shielding."
Nyssa stood at the center console, her white trench coat immaculate. She adjusted her thick glasses, her green geotrical tattoos pulsing with cold, calculated efficiency.
"Primitive engineering," Nyssa muttered.
"They are floating targets. Load tubes one through eight. Mana-kinetic density at maximum capacity."
"Tubes loaded, Chief Architect," the Orc confird.
Nyssa did not even look up from her clipboard.
"Fire."
Up on the surface, Captain Kaelen was just raising his cup of wine to take another triumphant drink.
He never got the chance.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
The ocean beneath the Divine Judgent violently exploded.
It was not a blast of magic. It was the terrifying, apocalyptic force of a hyper-pressurized, Mana Steel torpedo detonating directly against the wooden keel.
The sheer kinetic force instantly vaporized the bottom half of the galleon. The massive, beautifully crafted ship was violently launched fifty feet into the air, completely snapping in half.
The heavy holy enchantnts on the white sails shattered like fragile glass under the brute force of an industrialized weapon.
Captain Kaelen was thrown violently into the sky, screaming in absolute terror as his glorious conquest disintegrated around him.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
In the span of four seconds, the remaining four galleons in the Holy Empire’s scouting fleet suffered the exact sa horrific fate.
The perfectly calm Azure Sea turned into a churning, violent graveyard of burning wood, shredded sails, and screaming Paladins.
The Iron Leviathan slowly breached the surface.
The massive black submarine rose from the water like an apocalyptic sea monster, steam violently hissing from its massive exhaust vents as it casually cruised through the burning wreckage of the human fleet.
High on the cliffs overlooking the harbor, I stood with my massive arms crossed over my S-Grade armor. The burning remains of the Holy fleet were clearly visible even from miles away.
"Flawless execution," I rumbled, a dark and jagged smile forming behind my red visor.
"They did not even have ti to fire a single cannon."
Standing right beside , completely shielded from the freezing wind by my massive fra, was Ramona.
The Level 90 Half-Dragon wore a heavy, luxurious black fur cloak over her stunning curves. The wind whipped her long, molten-gold hair around her elegant obsidian horns.
She stared down at the massive, steam-powered submarine navigating the wreckage, her golden eyes wide in genuine shock.
"I have lived for thousands of years," Ramona whispered, her reptilian tail swishing slowly behind her.
"I have seen ancient Dragons boil oceans. I have seen Elven High Mages summon storms. But I have never seen magic bound in iron like that. It had no soul. It had no heartbeat. It just deleted them."
"That is the Forge, Ramona," I stated proudly, looking down at my new Queen.
"We do not rely on fragile magic to build our weapons. We bind kinetic energy to iron. The humans thought they were hunting beasts with sticks. They just brought wooden boats to a gunfight."
Ramona looked up at , the absolute shock in her eyes rapidly shifting into pure, intoxicating devotion. She pressed her soft body against my heavy armored arm, her core purring loudly.
"You are going to burn the whole world down," Ramona smiled fiercely.
"And I am going to help you."
Down in the harbor, the top hatch of the Iron Leviathan clanged open.
Silas stepped out onto the slick, wet hull of the submarine.
The Chief Inquisitor was dressed perfectly in his tailored suit, completely ignoring the chaotic splashing of the drowning Paladins around him. He took a slow drag of his cigar, his sharp eyes scanning the wreckage.
"Orcs!" Silas barked down into the hatch.
"Get the nets! The Sovereign specifically requested that we do not kill all of them!"
Dozens of heavy, armored Beastn poured out of the submarine, tossing thick iron nets into the freezing water.
They did not bother offering a hand; they simply hauled the struggling, half-drowned human Paladins onto the hull like captured fish.
Captain Kaelen was violently dragged out of the water, coughing up blood and saltwater. His pristine white armor was completely scorched black.
He looked up, his arrogant facade entirely broken, staring in absolute horror at the massive, terrifying machine he was standing on.
"What... what is this?!" Kaelen shrieked, scrambling backward until his back hit the cold iron plating of the conning tower.
"You are supposed to be savages! Where did you get a tal ship?!"
Silas casually walked over to the terrified Captain. The Chief Inquisitor crouched down, blowing a thick cloud of cigar smoke directly into the Paladin’s face.
"We built it, Captain," Silas smiled coldly.
"Welco to the Velkrath Imperium."
Silas grabbed Kaelen by the collar of his ruined armor and forcefully hauled him to his feet.
"Lock them all in the deep dungeons of the Iron Estate," Silas commanded the Beastn.
"Strip them of their holy artifacts and bind their mana. I want to know exactly how many ships are coming, what routes they are taking, and most importantly, I want to know exactly what kind of Heroes the Pope has summoned to fight us. The Sovereign hates surprises."
The Orcs grunted in obedience, violently dragging the screaming, traumatized Paladins down into the dark, suffocating bowels of the submarine.
The Azure Skirmish was over in less than ten minutes. The Eastern waters were officially locked down.
I turned away from the cliff edge, looking back toward the massive, smog-filled capital of my empire.
"The East is secure," I announced to Ramona, wrapping my massive arm around her waist.
"Co. Let show you exactly what the future looks like."
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