Trenches, Guns, and Magic

For the crew inside X turret, the moment they saw the shell, their lives began flashing before their eyes.

However, after many had watched their "life's highlight reel" run its course, they realized the Saxon shell still hadn't exploded.

In the dead silence, a somewhat weathered voice finally broke the tension.

"Nobody fucking move!"

The speaker was a man in his early forties with stubble covering his face.

This veteran, named Blackwood, was one of the older members of the turret crew and possessed relatively more experience in all aspects.

Blackwood crouched down, cold sweat beading on his forehead, and slowly leaned in close to the shell.

It was still smoking, but much less than before.

After observing it carefully for a few seconds, he reached a conclusion.

"This... this looks like a dud."

However, Blackwood had no intention of letting anyone relax. He immediately turned to the nearest crew members and ordered: "You, go get sandbags! You! Go find the damage control team and bring tools!"

"The rest of you, lock down the ammunition hoist hatches! Do not open them under any circumstances!"

Startled back to reality by Blackwood's roaring, the crew members scrambled into action.

When the damage control team arrived, they worked together to secure the several-hundred-kilogram "uninvited guest" onto a makeshift cradle. The damage control team then hauled it away for emergency disposal.

From discovering the dud to completing the emergency disposal, it took about seven minutes. (Historical data)

Only when Blackwood reported to the plotting room, on behalf of the turret's deceased officers, that "X turret has restored limited combat capability," and the message was relayed to the conning tower, did Captain McClintock finally let out a long breath.

But the bad news that followed was that Q turret and X turret had essentially lost their combat effectiveness; their subsequent fire would have zero accuracy.

Before Captain McClintock could process this bad news, the executive officer approached again.

"Captain, the Canopus to our rear has sent a light signal. The Majestic at the end of the formation took a torpedo hit to the magitech core compartment! She's taking on water rapidly and has lost propulsion!"

This message originated from the Majestic at the rear and was relayed ship-by-ship via the three intervening pre-dreadnoughts.

In fact, the Lord Nelson's aft lookout had noticed the black smoke rising from the rear of the formation a few minutes earlier.

But with the artillery duel raging and massive water columns erupting constantly near the ship, plus the straight-line distance to the Majestic exceeding 2,700 yards (approx. 2,469 meters), he couldn't confirm the Majestic's specific situation. He merely reported his visual observations to the bridge.

It wasn't until the light signal relayed all the way to the lead ship that Captain McClintock grasped the reality of the situation at the rear.

In a single-column line ahead formation, this method of relaying communications ship-by-ship via light signals was actually the fastest option available.

Although the Royal Navy of this world had indeed followed the Saxons' lead and equipped their warships with radios, the problem was that even the Saxons hadn't fully mastered practical radio communication in combat, let alone the Britannians, who were already lagging behind in this area.

Coupled with the shockwaves from artillery fire and various forms of interference, the transmission efficiency of radio telegrams was sometimes worse than flag semaphore and light signals.

As for the most stable and reliable magitech communication stones... those large-scale enchanted versions capable of clear communication within 5 nautical miles were absurdly expensive. Consequently, they were only issued to super-dreadnoughts, battlecruisers, and a small number of dreadnoughts.

The Holy Britannia Empire Cabinet's strict cost control over naval warships had once caused widespread resentment throughout the Admiralty.

For an empire founded on sea power, the combat effectiveness of its fleet directly determined its survival.

Yet those politicians in suits always pinched pennies on the most critical—and inevitably most expensive—equipment...

This ultimately meant that in the current battle, all warships equipped with communication stones had sailed off to the southeast with Vice Admiral Robeck's fast strike squadron.

"Robeck, you bastard..."

Captain McClintock couldn't help but "fondly greet" the newly appointed Mediterranean Fleet Commander in his heart once again.

In fact, before Operation Catapult, the Mediterranean Fleet Commander had always been the more senior Admiral Sackville Carden.

However, Admiral Carden was forced to return to the home islands due to health reasons right before Operation Catapult commenced. This led to Vice Admiral Robeck—a man deemed inexperienced by Captain McClintock and other captains—assuming command of the fleet.

Captain McClintock shook his head, forcing his focus back to the present.

Even though the Lord Nelson could currently continue fighting and the main hull structure was undamaged, the loss of some of its guns was bad news for the entire squadron.

Because aside from this lead ship achieving a straddle on the target during the second salvo, the return fire from the four trailing pre-dreadnoughts had all overshot their targets by more than a nautical mile.

It could be said they were firing at nothing, posing no real threat to the combined fleet's battle line...

Captain McClintock raised his binoculars and looked into the distance. Simultaneously, the Britannian battleship squadron unleashed its third salvo, and this time, the situation finally changed.

A 305mm armor-piercing shell fired from the Lord Nelson's A turret accurately struck an area below the aft gunhouse of a Papal State pre-dreadnought.

The power of this shot was terrifying.

The armor-piercing shell penetrated the side of the gunhouse, deflected slightly, and slammed directly into the deck armor below before detonating immediately.

The massive fireball engulfed the entire aft gunhouse, tearing it to shreds along with all observation and command personnel inside.

The resulting shower of shrapnel swept outward from the breach in the mast structure, instantly mowing down sailors on the nearby deck who hadn't managed to find cover.

Almost simultaneously, the Ocean, positioned second-to-last in the column, finally found its mark.

One of its shells landed on the deck about two meters to the right of the main turret on a Tegetthoff-class dreadnought.

The armor-piercing shell blew a hole about three meters in diameter in the deck, flames and thick smoke billowing from the breach.

Through his binoculars, the Ocean's gunnery officer could see open flames on the dreadnought's deck.

"A hit!"

Cheers erupted in the Ocean's turret, but the jubilation was short-lived.

Because no matter how much damage these two shells caused, their impact on the overall battle could only be described as a drop in the bucket.

The combined fleet's battle line consisted of fifteen capital ships. Even if the two warships just hit were sunk, there would still be twelve ships pouring firepower into the five pre-dreadnoughts.

If the combined fleet commander wished, they didn't even need any fancy tactics. They could simply maintain steady salvos and slowly grind the five pre-dreadnoughts into scrap metal through sheer volume of fire.

However, just as everything was trending "steadily and favorably" for the combined fleet, the L23 armored airship responsible for forward aerial reconnaissance suddenly flashed light signals to the surface fleet and simultaneously transmitted a dual message via radio.

After quickly decoding it, the signalman on the Goeben immediately connected to the bridge's speaking tube.

"Admiral! Urgent report from L23!"

"Another formation detected approaching rapidly from the southeast of the enemy formation!"

Upon hearing this, Admiral Spee's first reaction was to suspect this whole scenario was a meticulously designed trap.

Could these five straggling pre-dreadnoughts be bait deliberately tossed out by the Britannians?

First, use capital ships to draw the combined fleet's attention, then have their true trump card flank from another direction?

But this thought was dismissed from his mind after only a few seconds.

Because it was highly unlikely...

Thanks to continuous reconnaissance and intelligence work since before the war, he had a solid grasp of the organizational changes within the Britannian Mediterranean Fleet.

Although they lost track of the enemy's main fleet recently, he knew exactly how many ships Robeck commanded. He couldn't conjure an extra capital ship squadron out of thin air.

Furthermore, before the engagement, the armored airships had roughly assessed the size of this fleet from a distance; there were no extra capital ships.

Since an ambush was ruled out, only one explanation remained...

These five pre-dreadnoughts really were separated from the main fleet, and the force approaching from the southeast was the enemy's fast warships and screen fleet.

Compared to their army, which excelled at "strategic withdrawals," the Royal Navy clearly wouldn't abandon five pre-dreadnoughts. Returning to support them was inevitable.

Admiral Spee made a swift decision.

"Order the three Apostle-class dreadnoughts of the Papal State to break from the current battle line immediately!"

"Have them follow the battlecruiser squadron composed of the Goeben and Moltke, along with the outer screen fleet, to intercept the newly appearing enemy formation!"

"The remaining warships will maintain the current battle line and eliminate these five capital ships as quickly as possible!"

As he issued the orders, the Fleet Chief of Staff, working with the navigator, rapidly updated the battle chart to reflect the new ship dispositions.

Admiral Spee said no more. In his view, if his capital ships couldn't secure an advantage in a 12-on-5 situation, he'd have nothing to say if they lost this naval battle.

If they couldn't even handle that, what else could be done?

Soon, signal flags ran up the Goeben's halyards, accompanied by flashing light signals.

Simultaneously, the radio operator managed to transmit the orders through the static-filled airwaves.

The captains of the three Apostle-class dreadnoughts received the orders almost simultaneously. The three steel behemoths slowly broke from the line of battle, converging on the Goeben's position.

Meanwhile, the armored airship squadron in the sky also began redeploying.

The L23, equipped only with 150mm heavy guns, remained in position for aerial surveillance.

The L25, armed with a mix of 150mm and 203mm guns, along with the L30 and L31, armed entirely with 203mm guns, formed an "aerial battle line" and moved southeast.

Their massive gray hulls pushed slowly beneath the low clouds. Below these aerial leviathans, the three Apostle-class dreadnoughts had already begun pressing toward Vice Admiral Robeck's fast strike squadron.

Ahead of them sailed the faster Moltke-class battlecruisers.

Even further ahead, the larger screen fleet had already departed, with destroyers and fleet torpedo boats spreading out into a broad search screen.

It wasn't long before the combined fleet's screen fleet collided with the Britannians' forward picket formation.

The small ships of both sides reacted almost simultaneously the instant they spotted their opponents.

The Britannian G-class destroyers fired first.

These small warships, displacing less than a thousand tons and armed with 102mm quick-firing guns and multiple torpedo tubes, formed the backbone of the Royal Navy's destroyer flotillas.

Although newer destroyers had begun entering service, the G-class would still need to burn themselves out for the Royal Navy for the foreseeable future.

In one-on-one engagements, the G-class destroyers boasted a clear performance advantage over most of their combined fleet counterparts.

Better seaworthiness, faster rates of fire, more precise fire control... these were the technological dividends of Britannia's decades-long maritime supremacy.

But the combined fleet's numerical superiority compensated for their performance gap.

The V25-class fleet torpedo boats, which served the role of destroyers in the Saxon Empire Navy, along with the Papal State destroyers, returned fire with their 105mm guns.

Relying on their small size and agility, these little boats darted nimbly between the water columns kicked up by incoming shells.

The 102mm and 105mm shells of both sides constantly blasted small geysers on the sea surface. Occasionally, a shell found its mark, tearing holes in the thin outer hulls of the destroyers in showers of sparks and shrapnel.

The bridge of a Saxon fleet torpedo boat was pierced by a 102mm shell, killing the captain and several officers instantly.

The now-rudderless destroyer spun out of control, nearly colliding with a nearby Papal torpedo boat.

On the Britannian side, a G-class destroyer was soon caught in a crossfire between two enemy ships while evading. Its stern took a hit and caught fire, forcing it to decelerate and fall back.

However, in this chaotic melee between destroyers, both sides maintained a peculiar tacit agreement: they only launched a few probing torpedoes, refraining from massive torpedo attacks.

Both sides knew they needed to conserve enough torpedo reserves to execute the combat orders their flagships might issue later.

In this phase of a naval battle, the destroyer flotillas became mere spectators once the main fleets engaged in artillery duels.

But in reality, fleet commanders frequently ordered destroyer flotillas to lay smokescreens for cover, or to launch torpedo attacks against the enemy battle line to force them to maneuver and break formation.

So if they expended all their torpedoes now, the destroyers would truly be left with nothing to do but watch when the capital ships started trading fire.

After several fierce exchanges between the destroyers—no less intense than the clashes between capital ships—the light cruisers and armored cruisers successively joined the fray.

The Britannian Town-class light cruisers Chatham and Dublin pounded the combined fleet's destroyer screen with their main guns, attempting to clear space for their own G-class destroyers.

Meanwhile, two Saxon armored cruisers pressed in from the flanks. The Scharnhorst, an armored cruiser that hadn't sunk early in the war in this timeline, took the lead, firing its 210mm main guns at the Britannian light cruisers. The sea was instantly filled with the roar of cannons. Smoke and steam mingled, gradually reducing visibility between the two fleets.

Then, the main event began.

The battlecruisers of both sides accelerated, pulling away from the dreadnoughts behind them, charging toward the screen fleets until their opponents fell within range.

On the halyards of the combined fleet flagship Goeben, the "5 flag," signaling engagement with the enemy, ran up swiftly.

Opposite them, the Invincible-class battlecruisers Invincible and Inflexible completed their combat preparations.

Rear Admiral Hood, commander of the Invincible, exchanged a final light signal with the Inflexible before opening fire.

At this stage, the destroyers and torpedo boats of both sides spontaneously disengaged from the chaotic melee, moving to the very front of their respective battle lines to regroup and stand by.

No one needed a superior officer to issue this order in real-time.

This was an instinct drilled into every destroyer captain from their first day of training: when the big guns of the capital ships start talking, the small boats must step aside and await the fleet commander's next directive.

In the air, the three armored airships also found a firing position free of low cloud cover at an altitude of approximately 1,100 meters.

The L31 was the first to attack the Britannian battlecruisers. Its four 203mm heavy guns fired downward in rapid succession, the shells plunging toward the surface targets at nearly a forty-five-degree angle.

Shells arriving from the sky were the hardest for surface warships to defend against. A warship's main armor belt was designed to deflect flat-trajectory fire; protection against shells dropping at steep angles was exceedingly limited.

But soon, the observation posts of all three armored airships reported a new development simultaneously.

"Three magical fluctuation sources detected airborne! Signatures indicate Britannian mage units!"

The commanders of the L25 and L30 armored airships reacted immediately. The turrets shifted from surface bombardment to anti-air mode, joining the machine gun and autocannon turrets in laying down suppressive fire toward the detected magical fluctuations.

The combat manual of the Saxon Empire Air Force was explicitly clear: the first priority upon detecting airborne enemy mages was to intercept them outside safe range.

Because a sufficiently powerful spellcaster needed only one 【Disintegrate】 spell to instantly strip away an armored airship's vital mana shield.

Not to mention 【Mordenkainen's Sword】 or an upcast 【Dispel Magic】. The former could cleave through any known physical defense, while the latter could instantly disable the armored airship's "heart"—its magitech core.

Either outcome was fatal for an armored airship.

Black clouds blossomed in the sky as 203mm and 150mm shells exploded, attempting to force the mages back before they could close into spellcasting range.

Meanwhile, on the sea below, the two Invincible-class battlecruisers displayed an exceptionally high level of combat proficiency.

In the Holy Britannia Empire Royal Navy of this era, heavily favored by Admiral of the Fleet Fisher, battlecruisers had always received immense attention, even briefly rivaling super-dreadnoughts in prestige.

Whether it was the treatment of sailors or the level of training, they belonged to the top tier of the entire Royal Navy.

Therefore, even while executing zigzag maneuvers to counter the threat from the armored airships overhead, the main battery fire of these two battlecruisers remained entirely unaffected.

When the distance between the battlecruisers closed to 6.9 nautical miles, the Invincible and Inflexible, steaming at full speed, achieved straddles on the Moltke and Goeben in their very first salvo.

This performance was terrifying to the combined fleet officers, as if they were facing a completely different naval force than the poorly performing pre-dreadnoughts from moments ago.

After the second salvo from both sides, the Invincible, commanded by Rear Admiral Hood, scored the first hit.

A 305mm armor-piercing shell accurately struck the barbette of the Moltke's C turret.

The impact point of this shell was almost identical to the hit the Lord Nelson's X turret took half an hour ago—smashing squarely onto the exposed ring of barbette armor between the deck and the rotating portion of the turret.

But the Moltke's luck was nowhere near as good as that pre-dreadnought's.

Because this shell was not a dud.

After penetrating the barbette armor, the armor-piercing shell detonated directly inside the turret.

The blast wave swept through the entire interior space of C turret. The searing flames instantly ignited the loaded propellant charges within.

The two explosions compounded, obliterating C turret from the inside out.

The roof of the turret was blown over half a meter into the air before slamming back down heavily. Every single sailor inside the turret was killed instantly the moment the explosion occurred.

The entire hull of the Moltke shuddered violently from the massive explosion.

Inside the bridge, Captain Magnus von Levetzow nearly lost his footing, clinging desperately to the handrail in front of him to stay upright.

Immediately following, a report from the fire control center (equivalent to the British plotting room) arrived:

C turret has completely ceased responding.

According to the fire control officer's report, grey-brown smoke continuously poured from the brass speaking tube connected to C turret, forcing them to seal it off to prevent interference with their operations.

What Captain Magnus did next arguably saved the entire warship.

Without any hesitation, and without waiting to confirm further details, he roared his orders: "Flood the magazines beneath C turret immediately!"

"Seal all watertight doors in the vicinity!"

The executive officer's face paled upon hearing this order. There were still at least twenty sailors inside the magazines beneath C turret and in the adjacent compartments.

Flooding the compartments and sealing the watertight doors meant trapping all those men inside to die.

But the executive officer didn't try to stop him, because both he and Captain Magnus knew exactly why this had to be done.

During the Battle of Dogger Bank last year, the battlecruiser Seydlitz also took a hit to a turret.

In that instance, because the ammunition passages weren't sealed in time, the deflagration inside the turret traveled down the ammunition hoists all the way to the magazines below.

The ultimate result was 190 sailors burned alive, two turrets utterly destroyed, and the brand-new battlecruiser nearly sinking to the bottom of the North Sea.

Therefore, Captain Magnus's order in this moment was trading the lives of over twenty sailors for the survival of the entire warship.

Upon receiving the order, the damage control teams flooded the magazines beneath C turret as quickly as possible.

As freezing seawater began to fill the flame-engulfed compartments, the heavy watertight doors were closed and locked tight, one after another.

No one heard the voices of the sailors trapped inside who didn't escape in time.

Perhaps there were voices, perhaps not.

No one wanted to find out...

Almost at the exact moment the Moltke completed this extreme self-preservation measure, a dense volley of gunfire erupted above it.

The L31 armored airship, which hadn't participated in the anti-aircraft attacks but continued to pour fire onto surface targets, unleashed the most accurate salvo of the battle thus far.

Eight 203mm shells plunged down from an altitude of over 1,000 meters. Four of them scored direct hits on the Inflexible battlecruiser.

Four hits out of eight...

The first armor-piercing shell penetrated the armor plates of the foredeck, drilling all the way down to the forward aid station below deck.

This was the first stop for wounded personnel from the forward half of the ship once battle commenced.

The medical officers and orderlies were tensely preparing emergency equipment and medical supplies. No one imagined a shell would suddenly drop on their heads.

The explosion blew all personnel and equipment inside the aid station to pieces. The entire forward medical team, along with the wounded they had just carried down from the deck, were killed instantly.

The impact point of the second 203mm armor-piercing shell was even more lethal.

It struck the roof of the Inflexible's forward conning tower at an almost perpendicular angle.

The unique delayed fuse of the Saxon armor-piercing shell meant it didn't detonate the moment it touched the armor.

It penetrated the roof armor of the conning tower, drilled down for about two meters, and then detonated inside the lower half of the conning tower.

The explosion expanded outward from within the conning tower. The massive shockwave blew the entire upper half of the foremast—including the rangefinder, signal station, and observation platform, along with all equipment on them—sky-high.

Steel fragments and twisted structural metal shot dozens of meters into the air, raining down with a clatter onto the Inflexible's fore and aft decks.

The lower half of the foremast remained, but it was reduced to an empty, smoking shell. It was glaringly obvious there would be no survivors inside.

In an instant, the Inflexible battlecruiser lost its primary forward observation and command capabilities.

However, Admiral Spee on the Goeben's bridge had no time to rejoice over an enemy battlecruiser losing most of its combat effectiveness.

Because just moments ago, the warship had been struck by heavy artillery fire appearing out of thin air. The entire battlecruiser was nearly surrounded by towering water columns.

Lookouts soon sent a new report: A massive warship had been sighted approximately 9.4 nautical miles (17.4 kilometers) away, resting perfectly on the horizon.

Rapidly accumulating data arriving at the Goeben's bridge allowed Admiral Spee to identify the warship.

A super-dreadnought equipped with 381mm main guns, the lead ship of the Queen Elizabeth-class...

And another, worse piece of news arrived from the armored airships conducting aerial reconnaissance: A hemispherical magical aura had been observed surrounding this super-dreadnought.

This meant the intelligence provided by the Military Intelligence Department before the war was accurate.

Britannia's state-of-the-art super-dreadnoughts, in addition to their solid armor belts, also utilized mana shields for extra protection.