"All Ships of the Line, disperse in the waters near South 34, East 27. Advance in a multi-tiered longitudinal array. Move at half-sail; furl sails if necessary."
"Open fire as soon as enemy ships enter range!"
"Escort ships on the flanks, monitor enemy movements!"
Following McBride's orders, Cantrely began directing the fleet's matrix-style advance toward Sofala. The main Ships of the Line moved in three columns. Upon contact, the left and right columns would peel outward, creating space for the center ships while flanking the enemy and exposing their broadsides for saturated fire. This created a three-sided web of destruction.
Faster frigates were assigned to hunt down damaged retreating vessels. To prevent ambushes, McBride even kept a reserve fleet to guard the rear and respond to threats against their home port. The strategy was flawless.
After sailing about a dozen nautical miles, the Second Legion's ships appeared.
"Wait, what?!"
Wayne had returned to his seat, switching views in the backend to watch all the ships. Those "Chinese Junks" of the Second Legion, which had been simple wooden hulls earlier, were now reinforced with two layers of additional armor!
Wayne remembered—this was the unique advantage of starting in Southeast Asia. In the game, the Northern European characters (Hodram and Lil) also unlock "Second Armor," but they have to defeat Kurushima in East Asia or unlock it through Indian Ocean plots. Those areas were under the Second Legion's control, so Northshire players couldn't reach them. However, for Kyotaro Saiki (the Southeast Asian start), defeating Kurushima was a simple PVE scripted battle.
The two layers of armor added 20 points of durability, bringing the small and large Chinese Junks to 100 and 70 durability respectively. This meant the Second Legion's Large Chinese Junks now matched the durability of Northshire's Ships of the Line!
However! A fully equipped Ship of the Line with 108 rapid-fire cannons cost nearly 500,000 gold. Even with their trade advantage, Northshire had only managed to field around sixty. But a Large Chinese Junk—equipped with only 20-odd cannons but maximum sails and double armor—cost less than 100,000 gold!
From his flagship in the rear, Alos signaled his flag-bearers: "Assault fleet, attack!"
With a flurry of flags and the blare of conch horns, over twenty small Chinese Junks raised their lug sails and charged forward, catching the full wind.
Cantrely ordered, "Flanks disperse... Ready... FIRE!!!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Those twenty small junks, like lambs entering a wolf pack, were instantly shredded by concentrated fire from three directions. Most were blown to splinters and slowly sank.
"Hmm... as expected of a Rear Admiral from the Fourth Legion. Not a commoner's skill," Alos praised. He noticed Cantrely had switched the Ships of the Line from single broadsides to three-stage rotational fire. If 54 cannons fired at once, the ship would be defenseless for dozens of seconds. This rotational method ensured continuous fire and constant coverage.
Soon, all 20 small ships were sunk.
Alos: "Second assault fleet, attack!"
The scene repeated. This time, 30 Chinese Junks charged in a two-column formation straight into the heart of the Northshire fleet. Cantrely ordered more rotational fire, and once the smoke cleared, all 30 were gone.
But at that moment, the flank escorts reported urgently: "Warning! Massive numbers of Large Chinese Junks appearing on both flanks!!!" "Warning! Massive numbers of Large Chinese Junks appearing on both flanks!!!"
Cantrely responded calmly: "Flanks retreat, center advance, adjust formation!" She changed the "V" shape into an "∧" shape, pulling the flanks in so the entire fleet could fire outward together.
"So that's it! The show's starting!" Wayne finally understood the Second Legion's intent. Those first 50 small ships were decoys to test the enemy's fire patterns and formation while masking the approach of the main fleet.
Now, these Large Chinese Junks were surging forward with the wind at incredible speeds, their bows pointed straight at the Ships of the Line. Every single one was equipped with a massive ramming prow! By stripping away cannon space and reducing draft, they had packed their decks with soldiers. This was a desperate, all-out boarding strategy!
"Prepare for impact!"
Captains across the Ships of the Line shouted. With two layers of armor and a frontal approach, the Large Chinese Junks presented a small target. Unlike the smaller boats, these could take several hits and keep moving without losing speed.
CRASH!CRACK... BOOM!
Several Ships of the Line were rammed broadside. While not immediately fatal, the impact sent cannons, ammunition, and sailors flying. Many gunners were crushed by their own shifting artillery.
"Lower the planks! Seize the ships!"
With Alos's command, the squad leaders like Galen Vimes took over. They led the charge, slamming gangplanks onto the enemy hulls as soldiers armed with short guns and sabers swarmed across.
A Ship of the Line carried about 200 sailors, mostly gunners. The Second Legion's ships carried 700 to 800 marines each, specialized in close-quarters combat! Despite many junks being sunk during the approach, their wreckage became shields for the ships behind them, buying time.
No one in the room had expected a land general to play the "Big Ships and Big Guns" game, while a naval commander resorted to trench-style charging and boarding combat! Not even Wayne, nor the dozens of officers, could understand how these two—with such diametrically opposed tactical minds—had graduated from the same military academy as childhood classmates.
The Ships of the Line relied entirely on their cannons, but in the "∧" formation, they were pinned down with no room to maneuver. At such close range, firing their massive guns was tantamount to suicide.
Cantrely and McBride knew the situation was dire. Their old classmate had played a trick on them, using what Wayne called the "learning the enemy's skills to control the enemy" tactic.
No one expected a battle prepared for 30 hours to be decided by dusk. The Second Legion's marines won the boarding actions through sheer numbers. Their goal wasn't just to kill, but to seize control of the Ships of the Line—a special ability of the character Kyotaro Saiki. Every captured Ship of the Line eventually turned its guns on Cape Town, helping the Second Legion occupy the port.
"Enough, enough! It's one-to-one anyway!" McBride waved his hand, signaling his acceptance of defeat.
"Yeah!" The Second Legion officers erupted in cheers, having reclaimed their honor at sea.
Alos walked over and patted his old classmate on the back. "Isn't it normal to lose to me?"
McBride: "What was that? Want to go again right now?"
Alos: "I have to head back to Stormwind. You know what the orders said." He added a jab: "You're good at 'paper warfare'—digging trenches and building fortifications. No one can beat you there; after all, you were always the top student. But when it comes to flexibility... heh, heh heh!"
The officers on both sides laughed.
McBride: "I should never have tutored you. I should have let you fail every class so you'd be a common grunt guarding city gates!"
Alos chuckled again and sat down in the lounge. McBride joined him and signaled to Raymond. His expression softened back into his usual, unassuming self. "Young man, give us twenty orders of stinky tofu, two orders of xiaolongbao, two bowls of Lanzhou beef noodles... oh, and ten bottles of coffee and eight Big Mac burgers."
He added, "Put it all on my tab."
Raymond was thrilled by the big business, but Alos interrupted. "On your tab? Am I broke? Who are you looking down on? What is this, 'revenge spending' because you lost?"
McBride: "Shut up and eat what I give you. Your port is a dump. All you eat every day is rotten fish and shrimp. You won't find these delicacies once you go back."
Alos: "Are you a pig? Why order so much? Even if it's rare, the two of us can't eat this much. The men are already eating their own food. Are you trying to choke me to death so you can claim a 2-to-1 victory?"
McBride: "Me, claiming victory? Who's the one who barely scrapped a tie? Stop talking. If you can't eat it, I will."
Alos: "Heh, fine. I dare you to finish it all."
Soon, the food filled three small round tables. Even as fit as these two veteran commanders were, they couldn't possibly finish it. After a while, McBride wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, folded it neatly, and called Raymond again. "Young man, please pack all of this for me. Thank you."
Alos: "Hey, you old fool. I told you not to order so much. Now you have to pack it? You can't finish this in three days. Don't waste it; give it to others."
McBride ignored him. Once Raymond and Pirelli had packed everything into oil-paper bags, McBride turned to Cantrely. "Some people are going back to eating stinky fish and shrimp every day. Give these to him for the road. Let him think of the good things in Stormwind once in a while. That way, when he's too old to work or bluster anymore, he'll know where home is."
Alos realized then that McBride had ordered the extra food specifically for him to take away. His face showed a flash of embarrassment, which quickly turned into a grateful smile.
"Hey, you old ghost..."
"Never mind! Why let the girl carry it? I'm not so old that I need a cane like you."
The Second Legion officers were ready to go. Watching the two commanders bicker before departure felt both humorous and a bit heartbreaking. Alos gathered the bags in his arms and gently bumped McBride's backside with his knee. "Old man, don't die before me. Next time I'm back, we have to settle the score."
McBride looked annoyed. "Just get back to Theramore already. Next time you show up, I'll beat you until you're crawling."
Alos led his subordinates to the stables outside. After stowing the items, they mounted their horses and turned toward Stormwind. After a few steps, Alos stopped. His men stopped too, as if waiting for a final farewell.
However, Alos didn't turn around. With his back to the net cafe, he simply raised his right hand, waved, and said two words: "Take care."
"Take care," McBride replied.
For the next half minute, McBride stood at the entrance of the net cafe with his hands behind his back, watching Alos and his men gallop away until they vanished into the darkening twilight. The Marshal, who was always so quick to anticipate the enemy on the battlefield, didn't even notice his own men were standing behind him, watching them leave just as he was.
McBride grumbled with mock anger, "Why are you all standing here wasting time? Get inside and summarize why we—the army—lost to them in a boarding fight."
He walked past them, re-entered the net cafe, and sat back in his seat, slowly putting on his glasses. On his screen, the replay of the battle began to roll.
The three days had passed quickly. The 1-to-1 score didn't settle the lifelong rivalry between these two old friends.
Wayne, Tess, and the Northshire officers all noticed that the McBride who returned to the net cafe was once again that kind, gentle, and measured Marshal. They knew that the fleeting, boyish "old prankster" had departed along with his old friend's receding figure.