The wind was fierce tonight, making the flags on the ships snap and flutter...
One hundred and thirty-seven sea vessels of various sizes had arranged themselves into a circular formation, all with sails furled, drifting on the ocean surface...
Whale Island No. 8 was a whaling vessel, but after the whale pods around Whale Island had been depleted, it had been converted into a large ocean-going fishing boat. Together with seven other former whaling ships, it now provided the family with a steady stream of catches.
At this moment, the spacious deck cabin of Whale Island No. 8 was packed with people. Dozens of Family Knights sat shoulder to shoulder, listening to Bodfing lay out the invasion plan against the Haneabada Kingdom.
A hand-drawn map of the Haneabada archipelago hung on the cabin wall, illuminated by over a dozen thick tallow candles that lit the entire room as bright as day.
Bodfing held a thin wooden stick and pointed at the map. "Besides the main island, the Haneabada archipelago has twenty-seven other islands of varying sizes, all narrow and elongated. The ones we need to focus on are these eight islands in front of Nubite Port. The outermost ones are Big and Small Kelp Island.
According to the prisoners' testimony, Big Kelp Island is the fief of a baron named Siyanda. There's a slave plantation on it with over four hundred slaves working in fishing and farming, overseen by a team of twenty to thirty guards. Small Kelp Island is too small to be a fief, but slave owners occasionally bring people there for leisure—you can tell whether anyone's on the island by checking whether there are ships beached on the shore.
Our fleet is currently about an hour and a half's sailing from the Haneabada sea route. We should arrive at the archipelago around four in the morning. Captain Berant, you will be responsible for seizing Big and Small Kelp Island. Station a squadron on Big Kelp Island to hold it—calm those slaves and tell them we are the
"Yes, sir." A powerfully built
Bodfing continued pointing at the map with his stick. "After Big and Small Kelp Island, we have Left and Right Pomfret Island on either side. They're roughly the same size, each the fief of a Viscount. Like Big Kelp Island, both have slave plantations with seven to eight hundred slaves each, plus a guard and overseer force of nearly a hundred men. Laidings, you take Left Pomfret Island. Grey, you take Right Pomfret Island."
"Yes, sir." Two Silver Knights stood up.
"Next are Twin-Headed Turtle Island and Fallen Feather Island. Twin-Headed Turtle Island has two fiefs—one a Viscount's, one a Baron's—each with a slave plantation. Fallen Feather Island is a Count's territory, and there's also a plantation castle on it. According to the prisoners, that slave-owner Count occasionally visits and stays at the castle for a few days. Moyes, Twin-Headed Turtle Island is yours.
Chicked, Fallen Feather Island goes to you. I'll have the Steel Crossbow Corps assign a company to assist you. According to the prisoners, that Count has a Great Swordmaster at his side. If you spot the slave-owner Count on the island, don't act rashly—we can't afford unnecessary casualties. Send word back and we'll deal with the Great Swordmaster. Understood?"
"Understood, sir..." replied the Silver Knight named Chicked.
"Finally, there's Gold Shark Island and Duck Island. These two islands form a diagonal funnel shape, with the narrow end pointing at Nubite Port. Gold Shark Island is a Duke's territory. Tiger Ross, you'll take a battalion of Heavy Armor soldiers and a company of the Steel Crossbow Corps to sweep Gold Shark Island."
"Got it." Tiger Ross grinned in response.
"
"Here." The bearded Ovigis stood up.
"Your Thunderbolt Catapult Battalion will seize this cape at the innermost point of Gold Shark Island after Tiger Ross has secured it. There's a channel over a hundred and sixty meters wide between Gold Shark Island and the main island, and you must block it to prevent ships in Nubite Port from escaping through. I'll assign a battalion of Steel Crossbows and a battalion of Heavy Armor to support your defense in case the enemy attempts an amphibious counterattack."
"Yes, I guarantee not a single enemy ship will slip through that channel," said Ovigis.
"Malek, Duck Island is slightly larger than Gold Shark Island. It holds the fiefs of two Counts and one Viscount. You're responsible for clearing the slave plantations there."
"Understood," Malek replied.
Bodfing tapped the map again with his stick. "Between Duck Island and the main island, there's a field of submerged reefs, so we don't need to worry about ships from Nubite Port escaping that way. Looking at the map, the bay of Nubite Port is shaped like a large wine jar—as long as we block the main shipping channel and the secondary channel by Gold Shark Island, no ship in the harbor will be able to escape.
Blocking the main channel will be the Naval Corps' task. Sembawood, the commander says that if you can sink about a dozen ships, that should be enough to obstruct the main channel. Remember, the most critical thing is not letting enemy ships get close. Understood?"
Sembawood nodded.
"Besides the forces attacking the eight islands, all remaining vessels will bypass the reef area and land on the main island's beach opposite Duck Island, under the commander's personal direction. The landing beach is barely two li from the dock area of Nubite Port. After landing, all units will immediately form up, establish defensive positions, and wait for the main force to come ashore before launching the assault on Nubite Port.
We must also cut off the slave-owner nobles and slave traders' escape routes. Josk, the commander orders you to accompany
"Yes..." Both Yuri and Josk stood up.
"Commander, do you have any further orders?" Bodfing looked toward
Lorist rose to his feet. "Bodfing has arranged the invasion and landing plans very thoroughly, so I won't waste words on that. I'll just remind everyone of two things. First, we're here to rescue our family members who were kidnapped by these slave owners and to avenge the people wholy perished on Shilowas Island—but we're not here to throw our lives away. Our family's forces are elite, but that doesn't mean we can be careless.
The slave owners of the Haneabada Kingdom are very wealthy. They've hired many Great Swordmasters to serve them. According to the prisoners' confessions, Nubite Port alone has eleven or twelve Great Swordmasters. So everyone must be cautious—maintain your formations, keep your defenses tight, and avoid unnecessary casualties. The Great Swordmasters will be dealt with by the steel crossbows, myself, and Great Swordmaster Ingeliek.
Second, the Haneabada Kingdom has over four hundred thousand slaves. These slaves are also our allies. Tell them we're here to rescue them—as soon as those slave-owner nobles fall, they'll be free. Treat them kindly. They'll guide us on where to attack and where to find our people.
That's it. If there are no questions, everyone go prepare yourselves. The fleet will set sail shortly. Remember, we're attacking the Haneabada Kingdom for eight simple words: those who offend the Nortons shall be punished no matter how far they flee!"
Every Family Knight rose to attention and slammed his right fist against his left chest. "Those who offend the Nortons shall be punished no matter how far they flee!"
A mournful horn call echoed across the endless ocean. Ship after ship raised pristine white sails and headed southwest...
...
In the distance, the clear tolling of bells and the blare of horns rose from Nubite Port—an alarm signaling the enemy's approach. Through the telescope, crowds could be seen scrambling on the docks in utter panic, not even knowing what they should be doing, just running in every direction. Decades without any enemy assault had stripped Nubite Port's defenders of their vigilance and capacity to respond. Perhaps they had grown accustomed to dealing with helpless slaves and had forgotten how to face outside invaders.
Up ahead, the Storm had already turned broadside, training its port-side cannons on Nubite Port's mast-filled harbor. Any ship that attempted to raise its sails would be met with a merciless barrage of fire and shot.
Guided by a medium-sized lead vessel, nearly a hundred large and medium ships carrying the family's forces curved around behind the Storm, giving the reef field a wide berth as they sped toward the beach ahead.
The bells and horns of Nubite Port grew more frantic. This port city, famous across the Galentea Continent for its slave trade, had finally erupted into chaos. Waves of wailing and cursing reached Lorist's ears.
The Storm's deafening cannon fire then erupted—thunderous booms like rolling storms that came in successive waves. Lorist could clearly hear that the twelve bronze cannons on one side of the Storm were not firing in sequence but in groups of four, maintaining the continuity of their long-range bombardment.
The ship shuddered abruptly as it hit the sandy seabed, barely fifteen or sixteen meters from the shore. Lorist leaped directly from the ship into the sea. The water wasn't deep—only chest-high—and he began wading forward. Behind him came continuous splashes as the family soldiers followed his example, jumping from the ships into the sea...
Standing on the beach, Lorist turned to look behind him. The sea was full of family soldiers wading toward shore. On the front-line landing vessels, Heavy Armor Corps soldiers were jumping into the water, while the Steel Crossbow Corps soldiers on board were stamping with frustration—they could jump into the sea themselves, but they certainly couldn't throw the steel crossbows in after them.
Lorist grabbed a guard beside him. "Go to the ships and pass along my order: have the steel crossbow crews send four men down first, then hoist the crossbows over their heads and have them carry them to shore..."
"Yes, sir." The guard turned and splashed into the sea.
A horn sounded. Thousands of people surged out from Nubite Port in the distance, charging toward the landing beach.
"Form up! Battle formation!"
The family soldiers scattered across the beach rapidly coalesced into hundred-man rectangular formations, lining up in a row. Heavy Armor Corps soldiers emerged from the sea, still dripping, and slotted into the formations. In the blink of an eye, over a dozen neatly arranged rectangular formations stood behind Lorist.
The mob rushing from Nubite Port was now just over two hundred meters away. They hadn't expected Lorist's side to form up so quickly—they had hoped to catch the landing enemy off guard and drive them back into the sea. But when they reached the enemy's position, they found them already standing in perfect order. The front-runners began to hesitate, and though they kept advancing, their pace slowed.
It looked like these charging masses were hastily assembled slave-hunting gangs. Their armor and clothing were disorganized, their weapons of every conceivable type. Lorist scanned the enemy ahead, and then his gaze froze.
Among the enemy ranks, nearly a hundred wore the exact same standardized armor as the Norton Family forces. They had clearly been to Shilowas Island—they had stripped the armor from the dead or captured soldiers of the Third Guard Battalion...
"That's our comrades' equipment. So now—what should we do about it?" Lorist's clear voice rang in the ears of every Norton Family soldier.
The formations behind him stirred, but in an instant, hundreds of voices merged into a single word: "Kill! Kill them all!"
Lorist drew his longsword and pointed it at the enemy formation ahead. "Then we'll kill them all and avenge our comrades! Kill..."
Leading the charge, Lorist hurtled toward the enemy formation. Less than two hundred meters vanished in an instant. With a tiger's roar, he plunged into the forest of swords and spears. His blade swept past, heads flew, blood sprayed, men and horses tumbled, and the enemy formation descended into chaos.
Corpse after corpse crumpled to the ground, screams ringing out without end. Lorist strolled through the surging enemy ranks as if taking a leisurely walk, his sword meeting no one who could last a single exchange. Behind him, he left a trail of blood. Whenever he spotted an enemy wearing the family's armor, he pursued relentlessly, refusing to rest until the man was cut down.
A sword gleam like flowing water thrust forward, arriving before his eyes in the blink of an eye. Lorist parried horizontally and his heart leaped: "A Great Swordmaster?"
His sword rose with the fury of wind and thunder, striking first despite being the one who reacted. He launched an unrelenting barrage of attacks at the goateed old man across from him. The Haneabada Kingdom had no shortage of Great Swordmasters—they were all mercenaries seduced by the slave owners' lavish pay, serving as their henchmen and bodyguards, aiding evil for profit. If he could kill one, he would kill one. The more he killed, the safer his family's forces would be.
Clang clang clang clang...
The sound of swords clashing rang out sharply.
"Ugh..." The goateed old man's eyes rolled back. A crack appeared across his throat, and blood gushed forth...
"Seriously? This level counts as a first-rank Great Swordmaster?" Lorist scoffed with disdain, feeling somewhat unsatisfied. The goateed old man was probably the weakest first-rank Great Swordmaster he'd ever faced—he had lasted only twelve strikes before going down.
Two explosive shouts reached his ears. Lorist looked up to see a burly dark-skinned man and another grim-faced old man drawing their swords and charging at him.
"Two more Great Swordmasters. Heh, bring it on." Rather than alarmed, Lorist was delighted as he moved to meet them.
The burly dark man fought with heavy, powerful strikes—horizontal cleaves and vertical chops, a straightforward and brutal style. The grim-faced old man, however, was a crafty ambush expert, hiding behind the burly man's frame and launching surprise attacks from unexpected angles. The two fought with decent coordination.
But Lorist quickly adapted to their fighting pattern, and soon the pair found themselves on the defensive, struggling to keep up. The burly man had already accumulated two wounds, and his movements grew increasingly sluggish.
"Aargh!" The burly man screamed as Lorist opened yet another gash on him, deep enough to expose bone.
Behind him, the grim-faced old man saw the situation turning dire. Suddenly, he tucked his body and kicked the burly man in the back, sending him sprawling toward Lorist, then turned to flee. Lorist pivoted on his foot, slipping behind the burly man, and drove his longsword into the grim-faced old man's back with a sickening squelch.
The burly man turned around and let out a bitter laugh. "Old dog tried to dump me and run, using me as a shield. Didn't expect to die first, did you? Ha... go ahead and finish it..."
Lorist frowned. "You're all first-rank Great Swordmasters? How are you this terrible?"
The burly man cackled grotesquely. "Making it to Great Swordmaster in this lifetime is good enough—why bother with anything else? I get to enjoy ten-some women every day here. Who has time to practice swordsmanship? That old dog over there likes little girls—licking and fondling them, a complete pervert. And that one..." He pointed at the first Great Swordmaster Lorist had killed. "He liked fine food... and men..."
Lorist understood now. The Great Swordmasters willing to accept employment from slave owners were, in reality, people who had given up all ambition in their cultivation. They weren't nearly as formidable as he had imagined. Unlike Kruder, the first-rank Great Swordmaster from
"How many of you came?" Lorist asked.
"Four." The burly man knew what Lorist was asking.
"In your next life, remember not to walk the wrong path again." Lorist strode past, and the burly man's head hit the ground.
Where was the fourth Great Swordmaster? Lorist looked around. His immediate surroundings were empty now—three Great Swordmaster corpses lay nearby, and no one dared approach.
The battle on the beach was still at a stalemate, but the Norton Family forces had clearly gained the upper hand. Even though the enemy had several Gold Swordsmen among them, they couldn't gain any advantage against the well-coordinated Heavy Armor Corps formations. Most of the bodies scattered across the beach belonged to members of Nubite Port's slave-hunting gangs.
There—flashing sword light in the distance. It was Ingeliek, locked in combat with an old man in black scale armor. From the look of it, Ingeliek was actually being pushed back.
Lorist rushed over, cutting down two Gold Swordsmen along the way.
"You're terrible, Ingeliek. I've already cut down three Great Swordmasters and you haven't even finished off one—you're getting pushed back. Looks like I'll have to train you harder in the future so you stop embarrassing the Norton Family."
The old man Ingeliek was furious. "Sir, couldn't you see he's a second-rank Great Swordmaster?"
"Oh, no wonder you couldn't handle him. Step aside—let me at him." Lorist leveled his sword and charged.
The old man in black scale armor, having heard that Lorist had already killed three Great Swordmasters, was already wavering in his heart. Now seeing him charge forward, he drew his sword, turned, and fled. Lorist was about to pursue when a cry rang out: "Fire!"
A twang of bowstrings sounded. The fleeing old man in black scale armor screamed like a rabbit struck by an arrow and crashed to the ground. Two iron crossbow bolts protruded from his back, and the ground around him was bristling with over a dozen more...
It turned out the Steel Crossbow Corps soldiers had gotten their crossbows onto the beach and formed a firing formation. Their first target had been the old man locked in combat with Ingeliek—but the two had been tangled together, making it impossible to shoot. The moment the old man broke away and ran, creating an opening, the twenty-odd crossbow crews didn't hesitate.
With all four of the Great Swordmasters dead, the slave-hunting gangs collapsed. They dropped their weapons and fled toward Nubite Port, but no matter how fast they ran, they couldn't outrun the crossbows. One after another, they were mown down...
"Sound the horns! Form the battle array! We advance on the dock area!" Lorist ordered.
...(To be continued.)