Warning: There is a very brutal description of how horrific war can be here. The story never minces words about the reality of warfare, no matter how much this era still tended to glorify it despite its bloody and traumatizing realities.

We were to deliver a preemptive blow to the Royal Navy of Polsky, which was sailing from the coast of Koenigsvelg in the east to the direction of Danzij in the west. We had detoured slightly to the north to attack while avoiding contact.

“So… are you going to shoot magic like the ridiculously large cannonball from before?” Schwartz asked.

“No, didn’t I say it? It’s a ‘beacon’ that the counterattack has begun,” I said.

He asked me while I was looking at the ship to the south from the deck, so I answered. Schwartz is probably talking about the previous Earth magic. But this time I’ll use a different magic.

That I used Earth magic last time, was because I wanted to make a hole to sink the ship. They had seen an artillery battle before that and I decided not to deviate. But that’s not all…

If I say it’s fairly large, is there a misunderstanding? Compared to our ship, it seems to be classified as a medium-sized ship, but what would be the best way to sink a wooden ship that boasts such a size?

Flood the ship with Water magic and sink it? Or pierce it with Water bullets? I have to say that it is inefficient.

Fanning a ship with Wind magic and capsizing it? Or cut the ship apart like a Japanese yokai, the kamaitachi with their whirling razor winds? I have to say that it is also inefficient.

Create a cannonball with Earth magic and open a hole. This seems like a quick start. So I did it.

It’s very inefficient to pierce a hole with Water bullets or cut a ship in half like a kamaitachi. It is better to pierce with a hard Earth shell. But there is another way. It’s Fire magic that I haven’t used yet…

All ships in this period were wooden ships. Attacking with fire is very effective, no matter how much you say you’re in the sea and surrounded by water. Throwing oil pots and shooting flaming arrows must be a tactic that has been used throughout history. Even more so with Fire magic, you can burn the opponent’s ship without throwing an oil bottle first.

Then why didn’t I use fire last time…? Because it has very cruel consequences. I thought that if they got hit by an Earth cannonball, they would be minced in an instant, or they would just be thrown into the sea together with the blown-apart pieces of hull. I made a mistake with the power, so the result turned out to be a little more than I expected, but that’s how it should have been in my theory.

In comparison, if Fire magic is used to make the ship burn, the sailors will be engulfed in flames and experience hell while still alive. It would be even better if they could immediately lose consciousness from carbon monoxide poisoning and die without having time to feel the heat and pain of their burns. 1 But if you end up writhing in flames for so long, it’s just hell.

Until last time, I had never seen someone die directly by my hands. That’s why I avoided it… Because I didn’t want to see anyone on the ship, inside the ship, writhing and screaming amid the flames…

But this time I dare. Of course, I don’t want to torture and horribly murder the enemy for no real reason. If you say I wanted to torment and brutalize the fools who invaded the Caanza Alliance… it’s not like that. That I dare to use Fire magic this time is to make it obvious and attract the rest of the enemy.

Koenigsvelg is currently under siege by soldiers of the Kingdom of Polsky. In order to loosen the siege even a little, the purpose is daringly set fire to the Royal Navy of Polsky out on the sea and have the ground forces send help. If 4 ships were to start burning, it would make a great deal of smoke. If the siege on land sees it and abandons their positions, the Fire magic will have been worth it.

There is also the fear that no one will notice if I turn them into flotsam in an instant with Earth magic. The loud sounds, the water splashes, the waves, etc. will probably show signs, but I don’t know if the rest of the Polsky soldiers will know that their navy has been destroyed.

That’s why I’m using Fire magic this time. The Kingdom of Polsky may not come to the rescue even if they realize their navy is on fire. I still dare to set them alight. Even if it ends up in their sailors being engulfed in flames, tormented, and killed horribly…

“………… Shall we start, then?” I asked.

We have a view of the Royal Navy of Polsky sailing south. The enemy has also noticed us, but they don’t seem to come closer. The enemy’s purpose is to blockade the sea, so rather than forcibly pursuing others, they’ll probably just be wary of the waters near Koenigsvelg. If we forcefully try to approach Koenigsvelg, they’ll probably attack, but I don’t think they have the luxury of chasing ships that are sailing so far away from their patrol.

If they think we’re just fishing, they might presume we’re a decoy, and then the main force of our navy will slip into Koenigsvelg while they’re distracted. I guess the other side is wary of that and won’t pursue us, who are just sailing far away.

That means we should probably assume there’s still another fleet further east. If you’re going to blockade the sea with just those four ships, even if they don’t come after you, they should turn around and continue to monitor you. The fact that they don’t even turn around means that there is another fleet ahead of us, so if we try to approach Koenigsvelg after passing through the fleet before us, they’re confident the other fleet can help capture us.

“Fire… burn it do…”

Ah……. oh no, oh no… I was about to say “burn it down.” My magic changes its power as soon as I put a little meaning or intention into it. Originally, spells seem to cause a phenomenon event with a specific chant, but since I don’t use chants, it doesn’t matter… that’s how it should be. However, when I practically use magic, the power changes dramatically depending on the words I use.

The power of magic should be determined by the amount of magic that can be recognized and put into it, but it seems that if you use magic while saying easy-to-understand keywords or thinking strongly, the magic will be amplified more than you can control with your logic.

For example, even if I thought I was going to use magic with exactly the same power and put in the same amount of mana, should I say “Fire, burn it up.” and “Fire, burn it down.”, the power would be completely different for some reason. Maybe I put in too much magic because I thought I had to unconsciously put out enough flames to match the keyword.

Just because I think I put in the same amount of magical power, it doesn’t mean I’m actually measuring the amount of magical power going into the formula. So if you think about it normally, it should be reasonable to think that I have unconsciously changed the amount of magical power according to the keywords I’m speaking aloud.

However… it’s also possible to think that the amount of mana itself might be the same. The amount of mana is the same, but it’s possible that the power will be different because the efficiency and amplification of the magic change depending on the strength of my will when activating the magic, or rather my thoughts and feelings.

I don’t know the details, but the fact that the difference in words alone can change the power doesn’t change. So you have to be careful with your words. If I activate it by saying “Burn it down.” those ships will burn up in an instant. It is troublesome. I want it to burn like a smoke signal for a long time.

“Fire. Burn it up.”

I imagine those ships burning like candles. When I saw that 4 fireballs flew into the Polski ships, the decks started to burn so much that I could almost hear a roaring sound.

“Hmm… perhaps it’s better for you not to watch, Lord Caan,” Schwartz muttered as he watched through a simple telescope.

I can see why. I guess he’s saying that it’s better not to see the soldiers on the enemy ships, engulfed in flames, burning, and trying to flee.

Normally, in order to check the effect, I would look into the telescope and see what was happening over there, just like Schwartz was. But Schwartz was kind enough to tell me that I should avert my eyes.

However… unfortunately, my eyes can still clearly see the state of the Royal Navy of Polski even without using such a simple telescope at its low magnification. It’s also a part of my eyesight being so honed… I can see things I don’t want to see. But I have to see it. No matter how much it was a war, it was what I did. I don’t want to turn away from the consequences of my actions.

Well, Schwartz is taking care of me. He doesn’t have to describe what he sees. Let’s accept that kindness.

“Then let’s head towards Koenigsvelg.”

We sailed further east toward Koenigsvelg, ignoring the 4 ships that were smoking.

Koenigsvelg lies at the back of a long, narrow lake. The water’s shore is from northeast to southwest. It’s called a lake, but I don’t know if it’s actually a sea or it is a lake. It’s called a lake just because they called it a lake.

The problem is that there is only one estuary to this lake and it is extremely narrow. To enter Koenigsvelg you have to enter the lake and to enter the lake you have to pass through the only estuary.

The Royal Navy of Polsky, which we met further west, will not forcefully pursue us. After all, that narrow river mouth is blockaded by them. But it’s strange. From the information I heard, I heard that the naval blockade of the Royal Navy of Polsky was imperfect, but there is a place that is easy to blockade like this, and they have stationed themselves there.

“It’s different from the information I heard, but…” I said.

“No, that’s also incorrect,” Schwartz said. “It’s true that the naval blockade was incomplete even when we heard about it. But if it’s been this long since, then we’ve lost control of the sea.”

“I see……” I said.

Does that mean that when it was first attacked, this place was not yet blockaded and we were not completely deprived of sea control? It’s just that by the time we got here, this estuary had been completely blockaded.

Come to think of it, I haven’t received any follow-up news since the first news. If I had been able to pass through here, I would have been informed of the follow-up information many times. It would be reasonable to think that it was completely blocked and could not send messengers because there was no route for them to take.

“Even if they could be sunk, it would be a hindrance if they did sink there…”

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“Indeed…” Schwartz said. “The formation may have considered just that.”

I couldn’t see it from the deck, so now I’ve climbed the crow’s nest and observed with a telescope… but the Royal Navy of Polski is anchored so as to completely block the narrow mouth of the river from the lake to the sea. From the other side, even if that fleet were to be sunk in the worst-case scenario, it would be fine as long as the estuary is blocked all the same.

If we destroyed the enemy ships and the river became impassable, we would be in trouble. It’s a place like that, so it’s possible to salvage and remove a sunken ship, but it takes time. From the enemy’s point of view, it would be good if they could buy time until Koenigsvelg fell, and if the estuary blockage operation was successful, that alone would be enough to justify the military loss.

That fleet is a sacrifice, and they’re going to hold out there until they sink… they must be prepared to scuttle themselves because if they were to come alongside and lose in hand-to-hand combat, they would lose the ship entirely. Alternatively, there is a possibility that arrangements have been made to submerge halfway and fix it later.

“It’s impossible to approach and fish them out from here,” Father said.

“Father……”

And while I was talking to Schwartz, even Father climbed the crow’s nest. It’s quite narrow. The crow’s nest is the part on the top of the mast where the lookout stands. We’re watching the surroundings from there, but it’s not supposed to hold that many people, so it’s quite cramped.

“Perhaps the enemy fleet is under orders not to move even under threat of death,” Father said. “No matter how many times we provoke them, they will not move.”

“We can’t spend much time, but…” I muttered.

The fleet that was wandering around outside was burning in such a dramatic fashion and caught their attention. I want to break through now. But the other side has no intention of moving even if there’s leverage to, so how do you break through? You can attack and defeat it, but it will be troublesome if it sinks there. In particular, we have many large ships. Even if the estuary is blocked for a moment, there is a high possibility that it will become impassable to us.

“Flora, how about this?” Father asked.

“Huh?”

He starts discreetly whispering strategy in my ear.

“It can be done, but… but there’s no guarantee it will work, you know?” he said.

“We’re not going anywhere anyway,” I said.

“That’s… indeed. Let’s bet on it, then.”

My father’s strategy has no guarantee of working. If the Kingdom of Polsky’s aim is to block that narrow estuary, it’s possible that they’re taking other measures, too.

But even if I hold my finger in my mouth and watch, the situation won’t improve. If there is even the slightest possibility, why don’t bet on this strategy?