Trenches, Guns, and Magic

For the Mediterranean Fleet of the Holy Britannia Empire, their situation had slipped to the absolute brink of destruction.

In the battleship squadron, the Lord Nelson was torn in half by a magazine detonation and had sunk to the bottom of the sea.

The Majestic, trailing at the rear of the formation, had taken a torpedo hit to its magitech core compartment and was now on the verge of sinking.

The old pre-dreadnought was listing at a terrifying angle.

The port deck was almost touching the churning sea.

Captain Henry Blackett of the Majestic looked at the completely shattered formation of his fleet on the chart, then at the combined fleet's battle line still firing in the distance, a bitter smile touching his lips.

He knew this warship was beyond saving.

"Abandon ship."

Captain Blackett issued the final order in a calm tone.

The officers on the bridge were stunned.

"Captain..."

"Execute the order!" Blackett's voice overpowered the others. "Have the sailors grab all available life-saving equipment and evacuate in an orderly manner... We need to make sure as many of the lads survive as possible!"

He paused, adding, "Also, signal the Ocean ahead of us. Tell them the Majestic has initiated abandon ship procedures. Tell them to leave us."

Following the order to abandon ship, shrill whistles blew across the Majestic.

Sailors scrambled across the slanting deck, frantically untying the securing ropes of the lifeboats.

Several wooden lifeboats were pushed away by surging waves the moment they hit the water, slamming heavily back against the hull.

More anxious sailors chose to jump directly into the sea, kicking up plumes of white spray.

They swam desperately through the oil-slicked water, trying to get as far away from the sinking behemoth as possible, terrified of being sucked down by the massive vortex it would create as it slipped beneath the waves.

Behind the combined fleet's battle line, two destroyers flying the Papal State Navy ensign were responsible for guarding this sector.

Noticing the sailors on the Majestic abandoning ship, one of the destroyers flashed a light signal to its consort, informing them of its intended action, before turning toward the Majestic's position.

As its bow cut through the oil-slicked sea, the destroyer—which hadn't been fired upon by Britannian warships—quickly arrived near the capsizing Majestic.

Papal State sailors, wearing uniforms with distinct religious overtones, stood at the edge of the deck, tossing life rings tied to ropes and climbing nets into the sea.

Several Britannian sailors, coughing up seawater, grabbed the ropes and were hauled up onto the deck inch by inch.

First-aid clerics, called up to the deck, quickly stepped forward to perform basic checks on the rescued Britannian sailors.

This was a relatively common sight in naval warfare. No matter how bloodily the two sides fought, if conditions permitted, they would fish out the opponent's survivors from the water.

With the sinking of the Lord Nelson, the Canopus automatically assumed the role of lead ship.

Captain Fitzmaurice watched the wreckage disappearing behind them, his lips trembling constantly.

He wanted to say something, but ultimately nothing came out.

Captain McClintock of the Lord Nelson had been his friend for years. They had struggled through the Royal Naval College together and gotten dead drunk together in colonial ports.

But now, this old friend was just gone...

"Captain! We are the lead ship now!" The executive officer's voice pulled him back from his grief.

Fitzmaurice took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

After carefully considering their current predicament and glancing at the combined fleet's battle line still firing in the distance, he spoke: "Hoist the signal flags and send light signals: this ship assumes command of the squadron!"

"Order all ships to maintain current formation and continue returning fire at enemy ships!"

Although the Britannian battleship squadron was at an absolute numerical disadvantage, their counterattack remained incredibly fierce.

These veteran ships, which had served for years, erupted with astonishing combat effectiveness in their desperate straits.

The main guns and secondary batteries of the Canopus soon let out deafening roars. Multiple 305mm and 152mm shells crossed the sea, accurately slamming into the side of a Papal State pre-dreadnought.

The thick armor plate was forcibly ripped open, and the internal compartments instantly suffered a deflagration. Billowing thick smoke spewed from the breach.

The shockwave from the internal explosion even blew shrapnel and wooden splinters directly onto the sea surface dozens of meters away.

Immediately following, its sister ship, the Albion, trailing the Canopus, also scored a hit.

A 305mm shell struck the aft deck of an Austro-Hungarian pre-dreadnought. The explosion beneath the deck quickly started a major fire, sending thick smoke spiraling into the sky.

But this was merely a drop in the bucket.

Twelve warships in the combined fleet's battle line were continuously pouring firepower. In terms of ship quality, the ships comprising this section of the battle line on both sides were essentially old relics; the gap in combat effectiveness wasn't large.

The combined fleet's numerical superiority had already created a qualitative change.

This was exactly what Admiral Spee and the others had hoped for: through a series of maneuvers and deployments, create a temporary local advantage on the Mediterranean, then seize the opportunity to deal the Britannians a heavy blow...

Vice Admiral Robeck stood on the bridge of the Queen Elizabeth, lowering his binoculars.

The Mediterranean Fleet's prior strategy had been very clear—given their numerical disadvantage, they would never lightly leave Malta Port in normal circumstances.

Relying on the surrounding minefields and the massive array of defensive weapons at the naval port, they turned Malta into an unassailable hedgehog.

The Royal Navy's original plan was to continue waiting for reinforcements from the Home Fleet. Only when the Mediterranean Fleet was large enough to counter the navies of the Saxon Empire and its allies would they actively seek a decisive battle.

But the final approval of "Operation Catapult" upended all of that.

The Mediterranean Fleet was forced to sail out at great risk to prioritize eliminating the core threat of the Gallic Navy's main force.

This time, their luck was simply atrocious, and they were caught dead to rights by the long-planned combined fleet of the three nations.

This was the worst-case scenario Vice Admiral Robeck had considered before Operation Catapult began.

With the battle reaching this stage, Vice Admiral Robeck—who had taken over command of the entire fleet after Admiral Carden returned home due to illness—completely abandoned any thought of winning this naval battle.

He knew very well that every warship in the Mediterranean Fleet was a precious asset the Empire used to control the Mediterranean and project power into the North African colonies. Malta Port, above all, could not be lost.

Therefore, rather than fighting to the death here, he needed to focus on preserving as much effective strength as possible.

At 5:31 PM, Vice Admiral Robeck issued the order for the entire fleet to disengage and commanded the other ships in the fast strike squadron to turn.

At this point, the situation for the Inflexible battlecruiser near the flagship was dire.

After focusing fire from the aerial armored airships, raging fires broke out on both the fore and aft decks of the battlecruiser, completely out of control.

The foremast was utterly destroyed, and the command systems were entirely paralyzed.

It didn't follow its sister ship, the Invincible, into the turn. Instead, completely out of control, it blindly charged forward along its last set course.

Neither Vice Admiral Robeck nor Rear Admiral Hood on the Invincible could establish contact with the battlecruiser. They could only watch as it drifted further away from the formation, gradually turning into a burning torch on the horizon.

Over at the battleship squadron, upon receiving the order relayed from the fleet flagship, the Canopus also sprang into action. A set of signal flags rapidly ran up the halyard.

Numeral 2 over a blue swallowtail flag... In the Royal Navy's signal flag system, this meant "Turn to starboard in succession."

Light signals flashed synchronously, transmitting the order to the Albion and Ocean behind.

At this critical juncture, the three pre-dreadnoughts executed an incredibly beautiful synchronous turn.

The massive hulls carved neat white arcs across the sea, accelerating to disengage perpendicular to the combined fleet's battle line, their wakes weaving a patch of white foam on the water.

The combined fleet clearly noticed the enemy's sudden turn. The lead ship directing the battle line, the dreadnought Viribus Unitis, quickly issued its own turning order.

But the problem was, getting a battle line composed of twelve combined fleet warships to turn wasn't that easy.

To prevent collisions, the Viribus Unitis issued a relatively complex command.

"All ships, open intervals, and turn to starboard synchronously by designated divisions!"

Before the naval battle began, both sides had prepared different combinations of signal flags corresponding to common commands.

The "designated divisions" mentioned by the Viribus Unitis referred to small sub-units formed for temporary tactical maneuvering before the battle. The position of each warship within the squadron was also determined by these "designated divisions."

For example, the three Tegetthoff-class dreadnoughts of the Austro-Hungarian Navy belonged to the same division, and they were positioned at the very front of the entire battle line.

Although the commands were established in advance, this battle line was a temporary amalgamation of the Papal State and Austro-Hungarian navies, which had rarely conducted joint exercises previously.

Therefore, given the massive differences in ship performance and crew proficiency right now, executing the turn took far longer than expected...

Some ships turned fast, some turned slow. The originally orderly battle line exhibited obvious chaos and disconnection.

Two pre-dreadnoughts even nearly collided, forcing an emergency deceleration that triggered a chain reaction.

Meanwhile, after the capital ships began their turning maneuvers to disengage, the destroyers and light cruisers of the Britannian Mediterranean Fleet also made their move.

These vastly outnumbered small warships did not retreat with the capital ships. Instead, braving the fierce artillery fire of the combined fleet's screen, they executed a 180-degree turn maneuver.

The light cruisers Chatham and Dublin charged at the front, using their 152mm main guns to suppress the enemy destroyer groups. Shells exploded across the sea, raising geysers of water.

The G-class destroyers, throwing caution to the wind, initiated a "speed run." Darting across the sea at high speed, relying on their small hulls and extreme velocity, they forcefully sliced into the center of the battlefield between the Goeben and the Queen Elizabeth.

Immediately following, torpedo after torpedo dropped into the water, tracing straight white wakes as they rushed toward the distant enemy ships, attempting to disrupt the combined fleet's pursuit.

After launching their torpedoes, these small boats immediately threw their rudders hard over, weaving left and right through the dense artillery fire, fleeing this deadly patch of sea.

The combined fleet's screen reacted just as swiftly.

Spotting the Britannian destroyers' movements, the screen immediately judged they were going to launch torpedoes. Without waiting for orders from the flagship, they accelerated and maneuvered directly in front of their own battlecruisers and dreadnoughts.

Because the naval combat manuals of all nations explicitly stated that when friendly capital ships were threatened by torpedoes, the screen fleet must actively move forward to cover them, without waiting for flagship orders.

The Saxon Empire's V25 fleet torpedo boats and the Papal State's destroyers formed a dense defensive line. The small boats fired their guns madly, trying to detonate the incoming torpedoes on the surface.

But the screen clearly couldn't intercept every torpedo.

The two battlecruisers, Goeben and Moltke, along with the three Apostle-class dreadnoughts, were forced to make minor course adjustments to evade the torpedoes that slipped through the net.

Admiral Spee stood on the open compass platform of the Goeben, hands resting on the metal railing at the edge.

He understood the Britannian Navy's tactical style too well... This suicide charge by the destroyers was clearly meant to buy time for the capital ships.

"Watch the port side! Torpedo wakes!"

"Hard a-port!" Admiral Spee said calmly.

Receiving the order, the helmsman of the Goeben spun the wheel desperately.

The massive battlecruiser displayed an agility on the sea that belied its size. The ship jerked hard to port, adopting an "inward cut" maneuver that let the torpedoes slide harmlessly past its bow armor belt.

As the hull listed through the turn, Admiral Spee noticed the semi-crippled Inflexible battlecruiser. He immediately ordered fleet torpedo boats to finish off the crippled battlecruiser.

Soon, several extremely fast fleet torpedo boats broke formation and sped toward the Inflexible, leaving long wakes across the sea, looking exactly like a pack of sharks smelling blood...

Sometime later, after the combined fleet had fully evaded the Britannians' torpedo assault, the situation on the sea had changed.

Seizing the gap, the Queen Elizabeth and Invincible battlecruisers, relying on the explosive speed of their "high-speed cruise" mode, had opened up a considerable distance.

The three pre-dreadnoughts of the Mediterranean Fleet's battleship squadron also braved the risk of magitech core failure and forced a burst of "high-speed cruise."

Relying on this burst of power, the three pre-dreadnoughts managed to pull away slightly.

But these old warships, having endured fierce combat and severe damage, simply couldn't handle such extreme strain for long.

Problems quickly began to crop up...

The propulsion unit of the Ocean failed first.

A magitech circuit experienced mana turbulence immediately after failing. The escaping mana acted like a blast wave, instantly filling more than half the engine room and killing several sailors on the spot.

With the failure of the magitech circuit, the Ocean's power output plummeted, its speed dropping from 18 knots to less than 12.

Blessings never come in pairs, but misfortunes never come singly.

A 305mm shell from afar accurately struck the Ocean's stern. The explosion tore through the aft deck, directly destroying the steering gear mechanisms.

The helmsman on the bridge, turning the wheel hard to continue zigzagging evasive maneuvers, found the wheel spinning freely with no resistance.

"Hold on... steering gear failure! Cannot control heading!"

The Ocean completely fell out of formation.

It carved an arc on the sea, slowing down continuously until it drifted away from the squadron.

On the other side, the combined fleet's capital ships, having completed their turns, reorganized their offensive.

Using their forward main guns, they launched another attack against the retreating Britannian warships. Shells constantly fell around the three pre-dreadnoughts, the geysers obscuring their silhouettes.

By this point, this brief interception battle could be declared a "highly fruitful" victory for the combined fleet. At minimal cost, they had sunk two Britannian capital ships, and it looked like the enemy's entire battleship squadron was going to be completely swallowed up.

The engagement officially transitioned from a battleship artillery duel into a pursuit.

But the combat resilience of the Britannia Royal Navy was far higher than Admiral Spee and the other combined fleet commanders anticipated—at least vastly higher than their army.

At 6:10 PM.

On the halyards of the Britannian Mediterranean Fleet flagship Queen Elizabeth, lookouts observed light signals coming from the battleship squadron.

Simultaneously, the radio, which had practically "slacked off" the entire naval battle, smoothly received the final message from the battleship squadron.

The communications operator ripped off the decoded telegram, ran quickly to the bridge, and handed it to Vice Admiral Robeck.

The Vice Admiral took the telegram, his eyes rapidly scanning the text.

"All ships in my squadron are severely damaged; return to base is impossible. We will now cover the flagship's withdrawal. God Save the Queen! God Save the Empire!"

Vice Admiral Robeck's breathing stopped for a beat. He then folded the telegram and tucked it into his uniform pocket.

Not long after, Vice Admiral Robeck and the rest of the crew on the Queen Elizabeth noticed the changes behind them.

The Canopus and Albion, still sailing in the battleship squadron, did not continue to blindly flee or use their aft main guns to attack the pursuing fleet.

Their turrets began to rotate, the massive barrels pointing toward their port quarter.

That was exactly the direction of the three Apostle-class dreadnoughts pursuing the Queen Elizabeth.

Clearly, the captains of these two pre-dreadnoughts realized that relying solely on a few aft guns to attack the enemies behind them would do nothing to slow them down.

Therefore, they chose to unleash their final firepower on the enemies with the best firing arcs, thereby covering the flagship's retreat.

Massive fireballs erupted from the side of the Canopus. Shells tore through the sky, slamming toward the Apostle-class dreadnoughts.

Immediately following, the Albion joined the firing line.

Two old ships that had served in the Royal Navy for years used this resolute method to build a wall of fire for their flagship.

Further back, the Ocean, having lost both propulsion and steering, looked as if she had completely given up resisting.

She had completely fallen out of formation, drifting aimlessly on the sea, growing ever closer to the pursuing combined fleet capital ships.

This pre-dreadnought had taken multiple hits to its armor belt below the waterline. Severe flooding in the compartments caused the hull to ride incredibly low, the port deck nearly flush with the sea surface.

Seawater constantly poured in through the breached armor plates with muffled gurgling sounds. It looked like sinking was only a matter of time.

But in the aft bilge of the Ocean, facing seawater already chest-high, the damage control team was still feeling around for something in the murky water.

"Jam that pulley in there!"

"I need a bigger tool!"

"I'll help you!"

Several damage control members took deep breaths and dove underwater, using their bodies to prop up a heavy metal component. Another swung a sledgehammer, bringing it down hard.

"Clang! Clang!"

The sound of metal striking metal echoed in the cramped compartment. Underwater resistance made every swing incredibly difficult, but no one stopped.

In that moment, perhaps the "Eternal Queen," who existed like a god in the hearts of the subjects of the Holy Britannia Empire, truly answered the damage control members' call.

The jammed gears actually loosened. The rudder miraculously recovered a small degree of adjustability.

Upon hearing the news, Captain Arthur Hayes-Sadler of the Ocean issued his orders without hesitation.

"Hard a-port!"

"All gun crews still able to fire, target port side enemy ships, prepare for a broadside!"

The helmsman fought the wheel. The Ocean's massive, battered hull began to slowly turn left. The bow displaced the seawater, struggling to complete one final maneuver.

Captain Sadler turned around, adjusting his smoke-blackened uniform jacket, and surveyed the equally ragged officers and sailors on the bridge.

The surrounding officers spontaneously stood up straight. On this old ship that had served for over a dozen years, they had spent countless days and nights...

Now, it was time to take their final bow together.

"Gentlemen, it has been an honor serving with you all."