Chapter 277: Enemy
"My Lord, we should be about ten kilometres away from Ashenford." After three hours at sea, Desmond entered the cabin.
The galleon was designed with all the living spaces inside the cabin.
Having rested for a while in one of the rooms, Simon rubbed his eyes and got up.
He glanced at the chart Desmond brought over. Desmond had been marking the route with dashed lines during their journey, and now they were about to reach Ashenford from the estuary.
Although Desmond’s understanding of navigation was crucial, the detailed sea chart provided by Simon was equally important.
Even the Western world at this point couldn’t produce sea charts this accurate. "We should be close to Bay Town, right? You better treat me to some fresh fish when we get there." Simon said with a smile.
Sailing on the sea was rough. The wind-powered warship rocked violently with the waves, making it hard to keep anything down.
Anyone without experience on the sea would struggle to adapt to this lifestyle. That’s why Simon chose sailors from fishing villages; their seafaring instincts were in their blood.
Simon still felt uncomfortable, but the sailors on the ship were full of excitement, like fish returning to the ocean.
"Leave it to me, My Lord. At the very least, I’ll make sure you get a taste of abalone. This is one of our best fishing grounds." Desmond replied with a grin.
As they chatted, they went up to the deck. Simon raised his telescope and looked ahead, suddenly spotting thick smoke in the distance.
He asked. "Desmond, is that smoke coming from your village?"
Desmond’s face changed instantly. He quickly grabbed the telescope and looked in the direction Simon was pointing.
Seeing the black smoke rising, Desmond turned pale. "My Lord, I think our village is under attack by the Latin Pirates!"
Many of the crew were from Bay Town, and as the ship drew closer, the smoke became visible to the naked eye.
"Latin Pirates?" Simon frowned. He picked up the telescope again and looked more carefully. Sure enough, there were three ships anchored outside the village, and they looked exactly like Latin house boats.
"Speed up and tell the gunners to get ready!" Simon ordered without hesitation.
Just a few days ago, Prince Gerad’s envoy Gordon had warned him that the Latin pirates’ problem along the coast was getting worse. He didn’t expect to encounter them so soon.
And this time, it was happening in Desmond’s home village, Bay Town.
"Gunners ready, load grape shot!" The sailors sprang into action.
They were more anxious than Simon, after all; their families lived in that village. Desmond was visibly shaken and clearly wished he could fly straight there.
Simon’s eyes were cold. In his view, the Eldorian Empire was in a dangerous era. Its twisted path of development had left it much like the late Old Dynasty, centuries of stagnation in science and technology.
Internally, the empire was plagued by crisis, with threats both from within and without.
Historically, since the 17th century, whenever the Central Plains dynasties fell into decline, the Latins would seize the opportunity to raid the coast.
It wasn’t just the Latins’ aggressive nature; it was also because the Eldorian Empire was already overwhelmed by the reavers and couldn’t afford to deal with the coastal threat. This gave the Latin pirates even more audacity, and the situation along the coast worsened.
Even the Outside Kingdom across from Ashenford was openly supporting the Latin pirates’ raids.
With the reaver threat still unresolved and now a new coastal menace rising, Simon thought. ’If I hadn’t come to this time and place, it might not be long before the Eldorian Empire followed in the disastrous footsteps of the Old.’
But since he was here, he wouldn’t let the humiliating history of his people repeat itself; he would fight even if it meant destruction.
"Prepare for battle!"
The sails unfurled completely, and the strong wind propelled the galleon through the waves. Before long, the three house boats came into view.
The enemy ships didn’t try to run. Instead, they turned and charged straight at them.
"Fools!" Simon sneered.
To invaders, he had only one word in his heart: kill. He remembered clearly how the Age of Exploration shaped the colonial world that had long shackled his homeland.
Even when his homeland had grown powerful, the shadows of past invasions still lingered; foreign nations continued to point fingers and issue insults.
As the two sides drew closer, Simon could see the Latin pirates on the houseboat through his telescope.
They wore wooden clogs and wielded bows. Archers lined the side of the ship, ready to fire.
The houseboat looked like floating houses, their upper decks filled with small square holes, perfect for shooting from inside.
Not only were they packed with pirates, but there were even massive crossbows protruding from the square windows.
Desmond clenched his teeth as he stared at the burning village. He could see pirates chasing villagers through the streets.
When the two sides were only 100 meters apart, Desmond couldn’t wait any longer and shouted. "Battle formation!"
The signalman waved flags furiously. At that moment, the galleons, which had been moving forward, suddenly shifted their sails and turned sharply, presenting their broadsides to the incoming enemy ships.
"Wait until they’re closer!" Simon stopped Desmond just as he was about to give the order to fire.
The distance wasn’t close enough to sink the enemy ships instantly. And if they fired too early, reloading would take time, enough for the enemy to close in and force a boarding battle.
Desmond realised his impatience had clouded his judgment and lowered his hand.
"One hundred meters!"
The houseboat closed in.
Suddenly, a volley of arrows arched through the air from the enemy ships.
The soldiers preparing for close combat had already put on full armour. They raised their shields to protect Simon and Desmond.
"Clang! Clang!" A storm of arrows clattered against the shields.
"Sixty meters."
"Clang! Clang!" Another round of arrows rained down. At the same time, the houseboat fired six massive bolts from giant crossbows. The thick bolts were tied to ropes made of hemp.
The ropes thudded into the hull of the galleon.