LIGHTNOVELONLINE Book 6: Chapter 5
“Master Legul! Enemy fleet detected!”
“So they’re finally here…”
In his captain’s cabin, Legul took in his subordinate’s report with closed eyes and slowly rose to his feet. He left the room to step onto the deck. The briny air caressed his cheek. There were a few clouds in the sky, but the weather was mostly clear.
A gentle breeze blew from the south, and the waves rolled over the water’s surface.
He looked around him, ships in an orderly line, numbering sixty-five. Each was a sailing vessel. They represented almost the entire arsenal in Legul’s possession.
Legul’s eyes bored into the horizon. Tiny shadows spurted up from the sea.
Ships. All headed his way.
“Forty-five…fifty… They have approximately fifty ships! All galleys!”
The enemy fleet. In other words, Felite’s army.
They were almost evenly matched. Based on the information gleaned in earlier investigations, this was the best the Kelil could do.
“Do they think they’re going to win?”
The victor in this battle would take control of the Patura Archipelago. There would be no tie. One fleet would achieve glory, and the other would die.
“To choose this day for our decisive battle…”
The days had been blustery.
Like Rodolphe, Felite was approaching Legul’s core of sailing vessels with an entire fleet of galleys. His younger brother would be at a disadvantage if strong winds roughed up the seas, which explained why he’d chosen to have their final battle on a day when the air was relatively calm. Felite must have been thinking that he’d lose the chance to win if he waited any longer.
“…Pathetic. Doesn’t even know what’s coming for him,” Legul jeered. He raised one hand.
The sixty-five ships began to move, unified.
Legul’s fleet sailed into action.
Felite spotted them from aboard his flagship, trembling instinctively.
“Are you nervous, Master Felite?” Apis asked beside him.
Felite nodded. “Yes. I am.”
Over a hundred ships would be crashing against one another in one, decisive battle. Battles of such a scale hadn’t yet existed in the history of Patura.
“…I thought I would succeed my father after Legul was banished. However, I never had any plans of making a name for myself.”
All Felite wanted was for his reign to be peaceful, and yet he was making a name for himself in history books.
“It seems life often does not go as planned,” he noted.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Felite grimaced. This was unexpected. If he were one of the gods, he could probably avoid this battle altogether and bring back order. As a mere mortal, however, he had no choice but to overcome the trial before him.
“Send word to each of the Kelil: We’ll follow the plan and see this through to victory.”
The battle was going to be a struggle—with a slight advantage on Felite’s side.
The basic strategy hadn’t changed: striking ships with naval rams and coming alongside the enemy to engage in hand-to-hand combat. To top it off, the wind and waves were gentle, giving the advantage to Felite’s galleys.
Emelance, Sandia, and Voras had experience with Legul’s fighting style and shared information among themselves. The enemy’s sailing vessels were not to be underestimated.
All this put them in an advantageous position. Even so, their small lead could be attributed to Legul’s prioritizing defense over offense.
“…He’s fighting a war of attrition,” Emelance murmured as he commanded his ships.
He had assumed this might happen. If Felite’s forces attacked while the wind was weak, the enemy would strengthen its defenses and wait for the wind to change directions.
A war of attrition will be hard on the galleys.
Since the galleys ran on manpower, the sailors had to row with heavy oars. Naturally, extended battles would exhaust the men, dulling their movements. The burden placed on sailing ships was wildly different.
At this rate, we’ll need to finish the battle before our fatigue peaks.
Even if it was tiny, an advantage was an advantage. The enemy was taking damage, albeit slowly. Felite’s forces would win if this carried on.
That said, Legul wouldn’t just take the beating. Emelance considered what the man might be up to.
“The battlefield…” he observed, “is moving southward.”
“Armada Five is taking damage!”
“Voras’s fleet is in close proximity to the Armada Eleven. They can’t budge!”
“The enemy ships aren’t slowing down!”
Legul was bombarded with reports of each armada raising up flags of distress. Nearly all of them reported they were being pushed back. However, he wasn’t the least bit fazed.
They hadn’t even lost ten ships yet. This was because Legul’s forces were focused on keeping a safe distance from the enemy, evading its attacks, and staying on the defensive.
If one hundred ships clustered together, they’d end up immobile. The sea would become a congested mess and temporarily turn into a jigsaw of ships. If that happened, the armies would engage in close combat, and even Legul wouldn’t be able to tell which way the battle was leaning.
So Legul made sure his ships kept their distance. This would minimize the damage they incurred and give him leeway to change course as needed. This, of course, meant Felite’s forces would suffer even less damage—but destroying them wasn’t Legul’s objective.
“It’s almost time.”
When Legul ordered his ships to maintain their distance, he’d given one more command: to inch south, pretending they did so to dodge the enemy’s attacks.
“They must have realized it’s too late now.”
Legul had noticed something before the start of the battle. After all, the wind and waves spoke to him.
Something was being carried by the southern winds. Dark, heavy clouds rolled in.
Just like when he’d taken down Alois.
“You’ve lost, Felite.”
A Dragon Storm.
The seasonal tempest arrived on the naval battlefield.
The tide of battle changed in a flash. The Dragon Storm brought forth heavy, pelting rain, and the raging winds drew up violent, crashing waves.
Galleys did not fare well in rough waters. A smooth surface allowed sailors to synchronize their rowing. When the waves spun and seawater splashed in the oar ports, it disrupted their forward momentum.
“Sir Edgar! Ally ships are raising signal flags that they’re unable to advance!”
“With the wind and waves, it won’t be long before our own ship suffers the same fate!”
“Settle down! We’ll do all we can to get through it!” Edgar clicked his tongue as he reprimanded his weakening subordinates. “Rough winds would be hard for even a sailing ship to navigate, but…”
If both sides had fleets made of all galleys, they would have retreated to try again later. However, Legul’s fleet of sailing ships used this wind to ram into Felite’s galleys. As his forces saw it, the immobile boats made for prime targets. The roles of offense and defense were reversed, and Felite’s ships began sinking without any way of even protecting themselves.
“Oh, how he despises us…!”
Legul’s flagship wasn’t the only one moving through the storm; his fleet of followers had flipped it to their advantage. Just how much genius had he been bottling up, and how well did he train his subordinates? The only thing clear was that he loathed Patura.
“You underestimated us, Legul! Our new Ladu will totally disarm you—!”
That’s strange, Legul thought.
The storm had given him the advantage. That had been part of the plan.
His opponent’s response, however, had been far quicker than expected. The enemy didn’t seem to falter, persistently sticking it out. It was as if Felite’s forces had known the storm was coming all along.
Ridiculous. There’s no way.
Predicting the weather from the wind and waves was not an unusual skill among seamen. No one on this earth, however, pulled it off to the same level of accuracy as he.
Not to mention no one would challenge this type of storm, knowing the weather. None of the enemy ships have sails or masts. They must have realized they have no way of catching the wind.
There were galleys with masts and sails that allowed them to travel along the wind. Felite’s ships, however, were run entirely by rowed oars. The lack of extra weight from the masts kept the boats agile.
That’s why I didn’t think they’d predicted the Dragon Storm. It’s why I planned on winning this war by holding out until it arrived. But if the enemy saw it coming—
His opponent could have intentionally forgone the sails and masts to make Legul think they didn’t know about the Dragon Storm and drag him farther onto the battlefield.
“ ”
It was idiotic. Impossible. There was no way the enemy had anyone who could read the wind that well. Besides, their efforts were pointless. Felite’s ships should be swallowed up by the wind and find themselves at a disadvantage. If the enemy could predict the direction of the wind, it should have been using this knowledge to evade Legul.
He was clearly overthinking things. Legul snapped his head up to look out at the southern sky.
“…What the?”
He read the wind, and his natural genius allowed him to pick up on an anomaly.
“Something’s coming…”
Chills ran up his spine. The wind was gusting strongly enough to tear through the sails.
No, it was something else. It was a wave, threatening to swallow the ship whole.
Wait. That wasn’t it, either.
Whatever it was, it was almost upon them.
“What is this…?!”
He gaped at the dark cloud squirming across the sky.
“We’ll use the Dragon Storm.”
In the conference room, Felite spoke to the five Kelil and Wein, who was sitting at the head of the table.
“Legul will be able to predict the Dragon Storm, seeing that he’s resourceful and used this exact method to carry out his heinous acts toward my father. We’ll use this against him.”
“…I find that hard to believe,” Sandia stated. “The Dragon Storm is a natural phenomenon that comes on a whim. How could even the greatest seafarer predict such a thing?”
“It’s entirely possible for that man. His ability to read the wind is uncanny,” Edgar replied, expressing agreement with Felite.
The rest of the Kelil knew Edgar was not one to exaggerate. They trembled in fear of Legul’s power.
Voras asked a question. “Well, then, Master Felite. If we use the Dragon Storm against him, shall we challenge Legul to battle on the day it is to occur?”
Before Felite had a chance to answer, Corvino had an objection. “Wait. If our main force of galleys is caught in the Dragon Storm, we’ll be stuck in place.”
“That’s precisely why we’re doing it,” Voras replied. “According to our new sources, Vanhelio is standing behind Legul, right? Time is on the enemy’s side. We must make them believe that dragging us into a decisive battle will bring them definite victory.”
“I see… So we’ll engage in battle on the day of the Dragon Storm on purpose and defeat Legul before it arrives,” Emelance said with a nod.
Edgar frowned. “I have questions. First, how can we predict the Dragon Storm? Second, how will we be able to defeat Legul before it arrives if that’s exactly the opposite of what he wants?”
The sea admirals groaned. The first issue was impossible. The second was hardly more feasible. This strategy didn’t seem conceivable by any means.
Felite faced them. “Predicting the Dragon Storm is indeed possible. Two have already occurred while we were preparing for battle, and I successfully sensed them both beforehand.”
“What?!”
“When did you learn how to do that?!”
Felite shook his head at the Kelil. He took out a thick sheaf of paper.
“It’s not a matter of my own ability. By compiling the information in these documents recorded by the Zarif, I was able to analyze omens of the Dragon Storm,” Felite admitted. “By sharing these records, many people will be able to recognize precursors of the Dragon Storm. This will increase our accuracy and allow us to decipher the best time to begin the battle.”
“I see… Even if we cannot take on Legul on our own, we can as a group,” Voras murmured in admiration.
Felite nodded. “There is one more matter to discuss. The objective of this strategy is not to conclude the battle before the Dragon Storm arrives. We’ll finish this fight after we overcome this special storm.”
“Overcome what special storm…?”
Felite took out a new set of documents and passed them out. “…It was Prince Wein who discovered and compiled these from among the records. I, too, was surprised.”
The Kelil looked at Wein and then back to the documents. They gingerly thumbed through the papers, eyes growing wider by the sentence.
“This can’t be…”
“Do these things seriously happen?”
“Hmm, ah, well…”
They started to stir.
“This is a gamble.” All eyes fell on Wein, who flashed a haughty smile. “If this information is correct, all the conditions for a special storm have been satisfied. We can expect one to brew soon. In theory, at least, based off the records.”
A gamble. Were they willing to risk hundreds—maybe thousands—of lives for information written on sheets of paper?
“Master Felite, do you believe this to be true?” Edgar asked meekly.
Felite nodded. “Yes, I do,” he declared. “The collective history of the Zarif is authentic. And I shall use this battle to prove it—”
“Master Felite!”
“I know!”
Looking out at the unusual sky from his flagship, Felite clenched his hand into a tight, nervous fist.
“There’s a peculiar type of Dragon Storm that only comes once every several decades. Omens of its coming include an unusual uptick in windy days, higher temperatures, and plants that bloom earlier than in previous years.”
“Sir Corvino! Our ally ships cannot hold any longer!”
“Just a bit more!” Corvino roused his subordinates, glaring at the sky.
“There was something that matches your legends. Auvert uses his golden spear and white-silver shield to take down the sea dragon ravaging the ocean.”
“Elemance’s ship hasn’t sunk yet, right?!”
“Correct, Sir Sandia! The flagship of Elemance’s armada is still in good form!”
Eyeing the capsizing ships, Sandia clicked his tongue and let out a sigh of relief.
“There are some myths that are based in truth. That might be the case for these documents here. The sea dragon is an odd storm. The golden spear is the sun’s ray that pours down from the sky. The white-silver shield is the surface of the ocean that glares against the sun. These all culminate to create one strange phenomenon.”
“These are the perks of a long life,” Voras said with a small smile. “I can’t say I ever thought I’d witness such a sight.”
“ A lull.”
The wind died down.
For a moment, Legul couldn’t understand what was happening.
The dark clouds overhead dispersed. He could see that much. Although the clouds had cleared, the wind remained. As long as he had that, he would hold the advantage.
Except the wind stilled.
“Damn it… The hell is this?”
The surface of the water reflected the sun’s rays, and the previously turbulent sea had calmed. It was as if they were suddenly transported to a new world.
A lull. It was a period when all wind subsided from the sea. Even Legul couldn’t have predicted this phenomenon would occur after the Dragon Storm died down.
And if Legul couldn’t perceive it, no one in the world could.
Or so he’d thought.
“Master Legul! The enemy fleet is getting ready to attack!”
“Ngh !” Legul saw them. Now that the storm had abated, the galleys were moving toward each of his armadas. Such a bold move gave him no choice but to assume they had predicted the period of stillness.
If they knew this was coming, that explains their actions! But how?! How did they figure out something that I didn’t?!
Legul had no clue. He had never read the documents passed down through generations of Zarif. His talent gave him no reason to even consider it. He therefore had no way of knowing the truth that the knowledge gleaned from the history of the Zarif far surpassed his own skills.
—Be that as it may, even if he was unaware of what was going on, he dealt with the situation and gave his orders.
“Send out a signal flag! All ships are to withdraw from the area!”
Legul was a smug man. His pride made him think twice before turning his back and fleeing from the enemy. His voice of reason, however, stifled the urge to fight until the bitter end. Even now, his resentment gave him a broader perspective.
“We need to fall back! Take out the oars! We’ll hide on the small islands behind us and—”
“Master Legul!” cried out one of the subordinates.
“What now?” Legul turned to the man and noticed he was looking behind them. Legul peeled his eyes toward the ocean.
His eyes grew large.
“When the hell did that happen…?!”
In the expanse of ocean, five ships bearing the crest of Natra sailed in as if to blockade them.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you go anywhere.”
Five ships cruised on the sea. From aboard the flagship, Wein broke into a sassy smile and stared at Legul’s fleet.
“To think the battlefield would move this far out to sea,” Ninym murmured in surprise next to him.
The five ships under Wein’s command had circumvented the ocean since before the start of the battle. The fleet was secretly stationed within the area to keep Legul and his forces from escaping.
“The Dragon Storm always blows from the south upward. Which means the enemy will try to corner us on the battlefield so we get hit with the storm first. If that’s how it’s going to be, we just need to predict when it’ll hit us and hunker down to weather the storm.”
Wein made it sound so easy, but Ninym knew it wasn’t so simple.
He had to calculate how fast all the forces would move across the entire battlefield and the progression of the developing storm. Plus, he had to hide his ships in the shadows of the nearby islands. She thought to herself that he was a monster.
“…But if you know that much, I would have preferred it if you hadn’t climbed aboard yourself and risked the danger.”
“Don’t be that way. I only did this to see the battle through. I don’t think Felite will go back on our agreement or anything, but I’m not sure if we’ve completely won over the Kelil. That’s why we need to remind them in an obvious way that Natra was the one who came to their rescue.”
“But you’re fine with hopping on an escape boat if they come near us, right?”
“Obviously,” he said. “There’s not a single fighter on these ships.”
The five boats held only the bare minimum of sailors—apprentices who had no experience on battleships. Wein had instructed them to flee if an enemy ship approached. They were there only to contain Legul and nothing more.
“Do you think they’ve noticed?”
“One would think.” Wein grinned. “Knowing you can’t avoid something really sucks.”
“Calm down! It’s just a scare tactic!” Legul called out to his panicking subordinates. “If these were battleships, they would have mobilized them sooner! These are just sailing ships! We won’t have any problem passing by them!”
The crew became composed, but his voice reached only as far as the ship he was aboard. The other fleets had become rattled by the sight of the enemy suddenly behind them, failing to recover, and the Kelil took advantage of every breach in their defenses.
“Master Legul! Our ally ships are…!”
The galleys went to attack the sailing ships that were now at a standstill. Legul’s fleet had some oars on board, but these were meant to aid them when there was no wind or they were coming alongside a dock. The vessels didn’t stand a chance against a galley in terms of mobility.
“Grr…! Tell them to hold out! This lull won’t last long!”
Legul’s senses told him the wind would be returning soon, but the enemy must have been aware of this, too. Would his side really be able to endure?
“The enemy flagship! It’s closing in!”
Legul heard his subordinate and looked at the ocean with a start. There he saw a single galley fiercely closing in.
“Felite…!”
Did Felite see this as a perfect opportunity to come calling for the enemy admiral? Now that Legul had lost command over his forces, no one was there to stop Felite’s passage.
“Don’t think that means you can underestimate me!”
A wind would soon blow from the rear left. One single tailwind.
He’d make it in time. The wind would fill the sails, and he’d just barely be able to avoid the galley crashing into him head-on. After that, he’d just need to use that same gust to retreat.
Five more seconds!
Legul started counting. The boat was coming. Just a little more time…
The wind started to blow.
“Starboard!”
The ship turned to the right, and each sail billowed in the wind.
We made it.
Then before his very eyes was the galley turning its bow toward him as if it had predicted this move all along.
“This isn’t how I wanted to catch up to you, Brother—!”
Felite’s galley rammed into the side of Legul’s sailing ship.
Did we only graze him—?!
The charge had been perfectly timed, but by either the whim of the wind and waves or Legul’s stubbornness, Felite’s naval ram failed to pierce the hull of Legul’s sailing ship—instead carving through its exterior.
In all likelihood, the flank would break soon enough, and the ship would sink. But knowing Legul’s skill, there was a chance he’d retreat from the battlefield before that happened.
There’s no time to put distance between us and charge again! He’ll escape unless I finish him off here!
Quickly determining this to be the case, Felite turned and called out to his crew.
“Throw the grappling hooks! We’ll strap ourselves onto their boat and get beside it!”
““RAAAAAH!””
The sailors tossed the hooks over the side of Legul’s ship. The enemy crew tried to cut the ropes and shake them off, but the onslaught was so overwhelming that it rendered their moves sluggish. The two ships ended up side by side.
“All hands, draw your swords!” Felite shouted. “Board the enemy ship!”
The men drew their weapons, racing across the deck and boarding the opposing vessel.
“Apis, stay here and take charge!”
“W-wait, Master Felite?!” Apis was left behind, baffled, as Felite jumped onto Legul’s ship.
“Where is he…?!” Felite huffed.
The sailors had already begun fighting around him, swords clanging against swords. Felite took in these sounds as he went in search of his target—
“I’m right here.”
As soon as Felite turned around toward the voice, a bare blade grazed the tip of his nose.
“Ngh……!” Felite instinctively jumped back, taking him in. The figure of his elder brother, Legul, was standing right there. “Brother…”
“That was something, Felite. I can’t believe a stroke of good luck managed to drive my ship into a corner.”
Even after all that had happened, Legul wasn’t going back on his choice to go through with this. He glared at Felite.
“Did you board my ship to try and keep me here? That was one hell of an idea!”
Legul kicked off the deck. Despite the rocking of the ship, his footing was solid, and he swung his sword at Felite.
“You seriously think you can stop me?!”
“Gah?!” Felite took the brunt of Legul’s attack with his own sword.
The two blades clashed, sparks shooting from the friction.
“What’s wrong, Felite?! You’re coming at me?! —Take that!”
A powerful blow sent Felite flying, blade and all. He tumbled across the deck. When he staggered to his feet, he found blood streaming from his chest. He’d been wounded.
“…It’s true that my swordsmanship cannot compare to yours, Brother,” he admitted. “You’ve always been better than me.”
The cut stung, but it wasn’t deep. That said, Felite would lose if the battle continued much longer. Upon diagnosing the severity of his gash, he gripped his sword. “However, I am not just trying to keep you here. I have come to settle things by my own hand, Brother.”
“You’ll end up dying here for nothing. How pathetic.” Legul smiled scornfully.
Felite gasped for air. “…Don’t you think it is you who are pathetic? Do you honestly believe you can run from the Kelil? You still refuse to give up?”
“Obviously!” Legul answered proudly. “You think we can end things here?! That my resentment will just go away?! I’ll keep coming back—every time! And then Patura and the Rainbow Crown will be mine!”
“……” Felite seemed to mourn for Legul. He opened his mouth, saying nothing and then closing it. “Brother…there’s one thing I need to tell you.”
“What?”
“I broke the Rainbow Crown myself.”
Legul stopped moving.
They could hear the battle continuing around them, but the two looked at each other as if they were the only people in the world.
“What…did…you…say…?”
“There is no longer anything you desire in this land—or continent.”
“…Like hell! Why would the Rainbow Crown ever fracture?! It’s Patura itself, passed down by the gods!”
“It’s not! It’s just a normal shell! Besides, no one needs it anymore! Please open your eyes! The old you had set your eyes on a better future!”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I’ve had enough! Talking with you is a waste of my time! All I have to do is kill you all and uncover the Rainbow Crown!”
Legul readied his sword. Nothing was more bloodcurdling than this situation.
Felite could feel a murderous rage radiating from his body.
Words would no longer reach his brother. Felite steeled himself, stabilizing his sword.
Tensions mounted. They didn’t break eye contact or breathe, waiting for the perfect moment. And then…the creaking side of the boat that had taken the brunt of the attack started to split.
The two launched themselves off the deck simultaneously.
The body of the ship exploded.
The spray of waves rained down between them.
Two human shadows, two swords, closed in faster than wind to take life, and—
““ ””
There was a momentary illusion born from the mist and sun.
Legul’s eyes caught sight of the rainbow. Felite’s eyes looked beyond it.
Felite’s sword sliced cleanly through Legul’s body.
Legul looked down at the sword running through him with emotionless eyes.
It felt like the wound was on fire as his arms and legs lost all heat.
I’m dying, he thought. His sword slipped from his hand.
When he looked up, the rainbow was still there. He reached out to grab it, but it vanished before his fingers could touch it.
Come to think of it… He did the same thing when he was little.
How long ago had it been? Legul remembered scolding his brother and telling him to stop doing such stupid things.
Then a memory from that time burst in his mind like a bubble.
“Do you hate rainbows, Brother?”
“Uh-huh. I’ll never forgive rainbows—or the Rainbow Crown—for drawing all the attention away from me. When I’m ruler of Patura, I’ll smash the treasure to pieces.”
“But everyone will get angry!”
“All I have to do is become a man who’s worth more than the Rainbow Crown. Just you wait, Felite. I won’t stop at Patura; I’ll control every body of water across the continent and see what lies at the far ends of the ocean!”
Felite’s eyes had shone as he oohed and aahed. “Please take me with you!”
“Only me and the best of the best can sail on my ship. You seriously think I’d let you aboard?”
“Then I’ll become the bestest, too! I’ll be a great seaman worthy of your ship!”
“Hmph. You don’t have a chance.” Legul mocked him, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Well, if that does happen, I guess I’ll consider it.”
That was as far as the memory went—just a meaningless reel of the past.
After all, their paths had parted long ago.
“Master Felite! Please return here quickly!”
His brother’s subordinate was yelling something. Seawater had begun pouring into the gaping wound on the ship. It would sink soon.
“Brother…” Felite raised his head.
Were his cheeks wet from the spraying seawater?
It didn’t really matter.
“—Do you seriously think you’ve caught up to me?” Legul grabbed the nape of Felite’s neck. His hand pressed into his skin. “You idiot. You’ll have to train for another century before you can step foot on my ship.”
“Bro—”
Felite’s body sailed overboard.
At that same moment, the sailing vessel began to sink. The galley fighters jumped back to their ship in droves.
Legul Zarif went down with the vessel, and he never rose back up from the waters again.
In the end, Felite Zarif’s forces were the victors in the naval battle that saw the mobilization of over one hundred ships, and he took care of any remaining resistance, working side by side with the Kelil.
Felite Zarif regained control of the central island, ruling as the leader of the Patura Archipelago.