Chapter 340 - 344 Stop
Chapter 340: Chapter 344 Stop
Chapter 340 -344 Stop
“Sink it.”
Agatha’s eyes were fixed on the ship that kept approaching on the sea surface, her tone as cold and hard as ice and snow.
A junior officer beside her seemed astounded, as if unable to believe what he had just heard, “What did you say?”
“Sink it,” Agatha did not respond to the young officer, but instead turned to Colonel Lister and repeated, “That is ‘Assailants,’ a huge source of pollution—I don’t know exactly what it is, but that is definitely not the Sea Swallow.”
As she spoke, she paused momentarily, her knuckles white as they gripped her cane, “I take responsibility for this decision.”
Lister said nothing. His facial muscles tensed, and he stood like a frozen statue in the cold wind for a long while until the sound of a steam whistle arose from afar, louder and clearer than before, bearing an unsettling urgency. He then suddenly broke the silence, “Madam, are you certain about your source of information?”
“…I trust my own judgment, Colonel,” Agatha took a light breath, her voice carrying a raspy magnetism, “and I am responsible for this judgment.”
“You can’t be responsible; you are the gatekeeper, but not the direct overseer of the port system,” Lister stated calmly before turning his back, his gaze drifting towards the distant sea.
“Sink that ship, I take responsibility for this decision.”
On the distant sea, the suddenly appeared “Sea Swallow” was still moving at full speed, its towering bow splitting the waves, its flag fluttering wildly in the air, the ship’s midsection funnel spewing out large clouds of white vapor. Within those clouds, numerous hidden roars seemed to mutter and argue ceaselessly, and at the stern of the Sea Swallow, the waves rolled and frothed, layer upon layer, amidst the wave’s deep surf, a black viscous substance spread like blood seeping from a giant beast, meandering and undulating.
“Woo—”
The steam whistle sounded again, and more large plumes of white vapor erupted from the top of this iron warship, the high-pressure steam tearing through the sky like shrieks from the deep sea.
Figures moved near the rails of the Sea Swallow, marching back and forth, busily shuttling around. They wore Frost Navy uniforms, performing the duties expected of naval marines. They stepped across the deck’s rugged channels, past the viscous, writhing substances, and through what appeared like tangled masses of enlarged tendons.
Melting black mud continually dripped from these sailors, with some suddenly collapsing, merging with the surrounding ship structures—and simultaneously, new sailors emerged from the deck or rails, crawling, staggering about, scrubbing the deck, managing the flags, brightening the lights…
They were going home, the Sea Swallow was heading home—
However, from the distant direction of the port, the heavy coastal artillery had begun to operate. The hatches covering the cliff, breakwater, and harbor’s reinforced concrete external walls opened one by one; the dark muzzle of the guns peeked out, the heavy emplacements slowly rotated under a series of gears and linkages, and the underground elevators creaked, transporting shells from the underground munitions storage to the upper deck artillery, while a series of urgent bells and steam whistles sounded inside and outside the harbor, urging all ships still outside the harbor to quickly evade and all facilities within the harbor to enter combat readiness.
The Sea Swallow seemed to sense something—as the alarm from Frost Island started, it began to accelerate.
Steam gushed out, the whistle shrieked continuously, the entire ship roared from inside out, sailors on deck began to run, and bits of black and red appeared amidst the white mist floating above the funnel—the ship was accelerating, its speed as a steam fast ship pushed to the limit, racing across the vast sea like a behemoth wrapped in thunder, its hull splitting the waves with roars that gradually turned into a crazed howl shaking the ocean!
Just then, the coastal guns of Frost Island fired.
With the sound of thunder cracking, the powerful coastal artillery erupted in huge flames and thunderous blasts. Conventional armor-piercing shells were first fired synchronously, the conical shells whistling piercingly through the air as they traced fiery lines across the sky and eventually landing on the distant sea after a period of flight.
As the shells hit the water, columns of water rose all around, creating a fine mist spreading across the vicinity of the Sea Swallow, with several rounds grazing it, though its speed was unaffected.
The massive vibrations from the firing of the coastal guns slightly shook the platform beneath Agatha’s feet; she felt as though the entire observation tower trembled slightly from the recoil of the barrage, and she heard someone nearby reporting—
“Initial hit rate is low—the ship’s speed is too fast, exceeding the recorded metrics!”
“Fire at will, switch to armor-piercing incendiary shells, keep firing until the target is sunk,” Lister’s face was expressionless. “The stationed fleet stands by; if we can’t stop that ship at the near shore warning line, let the fleet set out—even if it means ramming, keep that ship out of Frost!”
“Yes, Commander!”
With the continuous blasts of artillery fire, Lister’s expression hardened, his eyes fixed on the sprouting columns of water and smoke on the distant sea, watching the Sea Swallow that kept accelerating towards Frost, his demeanor already devoid of any hesitation.
From what he could see right now, he could already determine that the ship was definitely not the Sea Swallow he was familiar with.
Facing artillery bombardment from Frost’s main island, the ship not only failed to slow down or signal with the prescribed flags and lights but instead accelerated even beyond its design limits… That was no vessel of Frost; it was a monster.
It was a monster disguised as an earthly object.
All the shore batteries began to roar, and amidst the thundering cannonade, armor-piercing incendiary shells traced bright lines across the sky, pouring down like interwoven rain onto the maritime area around Sea Swallow. Huge water columns rose one after another, and between the countless water spouts, the screeching, howling ship charged forward like an enraged beast.
With the distance closing and the barrage continuously adjusted, shells finally began to hit Sea Swallow.
The massive explosions violently ripped through its armor, shattered its masts, and peeled off sections of the deck from the ship’s body, while black, muddy-like viscous material gushed out from under the disguised shell, scattering across the sea like torrential rain.
“…God of Death above! What on earth is that?!”
Through his binoculars, the watchtower’s observers could vaguely make out the bizarre forms emerging beneath the shattered deck of Sea Swallow, eliciting a quiet exclamation of horror.
However, Lister just looked solemnly at the scene, his facial muscles still taut.
The ship did not slow down.
Even after the shore batteries had shredded its stern deck, knocked out its smokestack, and the superstructures and even demolished its theoretical ammunition storage and steam core housing compartments, it still did not slow down.
The shore batteries howled, round after round of deadly fire relentlessly pummeled down, a staggering number of gun emplacements focusing their “attention” on a relentless “enemy ship.” In no time, they had unleashed countless shells on Sea Swallow, which should have been fatal damage to any ship.
Even if it didn’t sink, it should have stopped.
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But it was still sailing at full speed.
Soon, others also noticed the situation on the sea, and tension began to spread.
“Keep firing—until it disappears from the sea surface,” Lister gritted his teeth and said, then suddenly turned to Agatha beside him, “Miss, please notify the cathedral as soon as possible if we can’t stop it at the harbor, we might need to…”
“Don’t rush to give up yet, Colonel,” Agatha interrupted, shaking her head before he could finish, “The attack is effective; it’s declining.”
As she spoke, her gaze drifted toward the distant sea, and in the eyes of this young gatekeeper, a pale gleam gently flickered.
The reflection in her eyes was not reality, but the Spirit Realm.
She saw the twisted black silhouette disintegrating, its chaotic sea surface rapidly shedding disjointed lines of light and shadows.
The shore batteries’ barrage, although not directly “killing” the counterfeit, was effectively pushing it to a critical point where it was about to self-destruct.
Agatha blinked, and the fleeting image of the Spirit Realm vanished from her sight, giving way again to the clear reality.
The shore cannons continued to fire, and soon, additional rounds of gunfire resounded not far off.
It was the fleet in the harbor—they had finally completed preparations and began to engage in the interception.
The synchronized roar of the battleships’ main artillery became the last straw for Sea Swallow. As more armor-piercing incendiary shells fell on the ship, already unrecognizable, it finally began to collapse.
First, the deck and the outer hull peeled off in sections, revealing the twisted, dark, bizarre structure inside, followed by the vessel violently writhing and tearing from bow to stern, as if trying to rip itself into pieces, pouring countless dark mud outward while rapidly fracturing.
Its steam whistle finally stopped, and that eerie screeching sound gradually ceased as well.
It began to slow down, spreading out vast swathes of dark impurities, melting and collapsing on the sea surface.
This terrible, bizarre Assailant that had attempted to charge the civilized world—finally stopped just a few miles from Frost’s main island.