Herald of Steel

Chapter 1126

Remus's straightforward, almost banzai like charge was meant to trade blow for blow, with the young general hoping to be able to survive the enemy's softer bronze ram while hopefully getting their own much deadlier steel shots tconnectctOncees that happened, with any luck they would be able to grievously damage, if not outright disable the enemy ship in one go.

After that, it would be a simple case of having his legionaries board the ships, and with the aid of their much heavier armor as well as their richer fighting prowess and experience, neutralize the enemy in a brutal hand to hand melee.

At least that was the plan.

And given the morbid circumstances, it was not a bad one, at least on paper.

Now the only thing left to do was wait and find exactly how effective this would be when the tire hit the road.

Upon receiving the order from Remus and seeing the enemy close in, all the legionaries began to scramble to the sides of the ships, lining up by the port and starboard sides in organized rows upon rows.

They were all already in their armor, as they were originally expecting to get into battle as soon as they made landfall on the western side of Phyrros Island.

Hence it took little effort for them to get into position, and lock their large shields, followed closely behind by crossbows, and instant bows to provide support.

One of the ships even brought up their catapults to the decks, intent on using them as makeshift field artillery, it being possibly the first time to be used like this in the world.

The men probably did not hope to be able to hit individual soldiers with these attacks but mostly likely hoped to use the stones to destroy the large sails or masts, thus disabling the ships.

However the more likely outcome of the endeavor would be that they missed all their shots and had little to show for their troubles other than a slightly lighter ship as all the stones they were carrying would be used up.

This was because it was already hard enough to aim with these primitive weapons on land with a rock steady foundation.

So it did not take a genius to figure out how it would perform in a rickety, wooden surface that was constantly bobbing up and down.

Alexander would count on his blessing even if just one of the hundreds of shots to be made were to make a single solid contact.

But the act of firing these catapults was bound to at least have a psychological impact, both on the legionnaires as well as the Heeat family forces.

That was evitable, as the sight of solid chucks of stone the size of double fists and weighing 10 to 20 kilos wooshing through the air, making a streaking noise as it breezed past would undoubtedly raise troop morale of Alexander's side, while the converse would be true for Lord Parker's side, as the mere threat of the possibility, no matter who slim, of any one of the missiles landing on any of them would cause great distress among the troops.

Hence the commander of that ship was very much in support of using these novel weapons.

And speaking of commanders, they were too spurred onto action upon receiving orders from Remus, with many of whom, as a by product of their fear and panic, even started to ravenously bark out scalding orders to his platoon, to the point their throats almost went hoarse, all in an effort to get the men in proper fighting formation.

While Remus's men began to prepare themselves like they were facing the incarnation of armageddon, back at Lord Parker's fleet command, the response was much more measured and disciplined.

They too had been naturally surprised to see Alexander's blue sails all of a sudden materialize here, but that only lasted the duration of the initial flurry of messengers being sent back and forth between the various commands, as they tried to properly take stock of the situation.

Once that was done, the five ships quickly calmed down and then they began to take combat maneuvers, forming in parallel to each other and reading themselves to also engage the enemy head on, intent on using their much larger size and hence heavier mass to split everything in their way with prejudice.

And the reason for this well practised and trained reaction as contrary to Remus's panicked one was quite succinctly summarised by the current commander of the fleet, a noble named Regino Kite, who turned to dictate towards his second in hand with a fierce glint in his eyes,

"Look at those fools. Can't even maintain a straight line! Pathetic! This battle is already ours I tell you. I can stake my soul on it."

This tall, tanned, almost tawny man, with a thick, mass of black beard, dressed in full black armored regalia looked very menacing, almost like an anthropomorphized bear, and the derision in the sneering tone he said this with was almost palpable, for he had already jotted this victory down in his mental notebook.

Something his second in command naturally nodded to agree in haste, as then the thin, almost effeminate man added with a scholarly tone, "As far as I recall, Adhania should not ever have a navy. Their vessels are most likely being rowed little more than enslaved fishermen. And they will soon learn how much harder we are to catch than some fish!"

It seemed that despite the man's soft features, he had quite a bit of spice to him, his eyes suddenly producing the same glint as his boss.

"My lords are right!" And in accompanying Lord Kite's agreeing nod, came this heavy note, originating from the ship's captain, who was manning the wheel just beside the two.

Now, for a commoner to butt into the conversation of two lords would normally be a grave offense.

But this old, experienced captain was different.

He was a legendary veteran who was not only very experienced and immensely skilled, but he also had won many battles and survived even more.

In fact, it would not be even wrong to say he had more claim to be the commander of the fleet than Lord Kite.

Of course, that would be unthinkable given the old man was but a commoner.

But even then still his words held significant weight, as evidenced by the fact the two lords not only did not seem to mind the interruption but instead actually turned to look at him expectantly.

And seeing that he had gotten their attention, this sailor presented his own analysis, opined with a pleased smirk,

"It is apparent that the enemy is not good at sea warfare. Just look at the way they are moving towards us. Like a newborn fawn who has just learned to walk."

"When we first saw them, I had even noticed some of them try and flee. But they then suddenly stopped and restored their course. Probably because they thought we were too close. *Pui*, ametures.With this much distance, I could easily circle the ships twice and still have time left."

It was unknown if the old man sincerely believed this or was just boasting, as typical of men who tended to reach this ripe age.

But regardless, this cool and calm claim and the fact the man was so experienced that he could even work out such a fine detail so accurately from so far away really worked to showcase the vast gulf between the skill levels of the two armies.

The battle set to soon occur seemed to be more and more looking like a fight between an army of armored knights and a mob of peasants.

And what was worse here was that the armored knights actually outnumbered the peasants.

What horrible odds!

*Sploosh*, *Sploosh*, *Sploosh*,

It was with such pessimism on one side and optimism on the other that the two sides finally came close enough to make contact, as the ocean continued to churn and twist with vapid agony under the weight of the nine mighty battleships.

And even as they neared, none showed any signs of slowing down in the slightest, but instead actually chose to speed up, all in order to have the greatest momentum behind their attack, while alarmed last minute shouts began to blast out from both sides by their respective officers.

Until finally, both sides reached the apex of their speed right before the imminent collision.

And then….

Contrary to expectations, there was no ear splitting crash of splintering wood, of cracking hulls, or of mangled blood soaked cries.

Not initially at least, as instead what came was a series of *twang*, *twang*, *twang*, like twigs being snapped off a tree.

And the originator of this was the breaking of the long wooden oaks from one side of one of Remus's ships, as Lord Kite had his vessel cleverly bypass the ram of the attacking ship and instead sailed by very, very close, so as to crash against these oars in such a way that it snapped them like snapping the wings of a bird.

And the result?

Right from the word go of the battle, one of Remus's ships was crippled!