Chapter 623: Punishing the Rebels (III)

The massive, real-time, large-scale offensive-defensive fantasy drama unfolding on the sea left the over one hundred thousand northern and southern spectators on shore utterly dazzled, caught off guard, and in complete mental disarray.

Mental disarray was inevitable.

At first, the great fleets of both sides clashed in a chaotic melee, and then the melee evolved into two pursuit-and-escape groups, one to the north and one to the east.

Up to this point, the plot had followed the script, and the audience showed their understanding.

But what came next was a bit of a mind-bender.

First, some of the southern pirate ships that had followed the Spanish ship-owners east to chase the Dutch suddenly turned back.

The audience initially thought these were returning in triumph to clear the way, but they quickly realized something was wrong. The flags on these ships were in disarray and their formation was scattered; the way they fanned out toward the shore looked, no matter how you saw it, like a desperate, furious escape.

Then the answer came.

Right behind these ships, as far as the eye could see, a patch of white sails appeared on the horizon.

As they drew closer, one could see a white dragon constantly circling the Spanish ships that had just vanished from sight, spitting out bursts of flame and white smoke.

The formation of the several Spanish ships had long since collapsed, and they were now likewise retreating toward the shore. Those with sharp eyes could see the one acting as the rearguard spitting scattered flames, struggling to fight back.

Yet right before everyone's eyes, amidst a collective gasp of shock from the shore, that rearguard Spanish ship erupted in raging flames in an instant and soon capsized into the vast sea.

With the plot developed to this point, the audience on shore finally understood: the Northern Army had received powerful reinforcements.

However, some people reacted much faster than the audience.

The southern mercenaries, who had just been locked in a brawl with their fleeing northern counterparts, began trying to disengage the very moment the lookout at the masthead spotted the appearance of that white dragon.

The various big shots, who had been unbearably arrogant just moments before, upon confirming that unique hull shape and sail configuration, had the fear gene rooted deep in their souls erupt instantly. They began roaring as they hauled sails and spun the helm, utterly disregarding collisions with other ships, seeking only to turn around and flee.

The already chaotic mass now churned completely into a pot of messy porridge, a scene of utter pandemonium that stole much of the spotlight originally belonging to the Spanish battle group.

However, a tactical maneuver like a large-scale turn and retreat in the middle of a chaotic battle was easier said than done for the local hard-sail ships that were already thoroughly entangled with one another.

Even if some ships on the outer edge could turn around in time, they still had to run a long stretch before returning to Shunhua Port—the southern ships had previously chased all the way along the northern coast, and getting home wouldn't be so easy.

Murphy tells us that what you fear most is exactly what will happen.

After about an hour, just as the chaotic mass of ships was finally showing signs of disengaging, the Spanish battle group to the east had actually reached a decisive outcome.

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The detached fleet sent this time to raid the South Sea Fleet was the Great Yan's new-generation ocean-going iron-ribbed, wood-hulled hybrid-powered Cruiser, designed and developed earlier to support the southward strategy.

This class of Cruiser was named after the lead ship, Huangpu. Five had been completed so far, with five more under construction. The ones appearing at the naval battle today were the Huangpu, Shawan, Zengcheng, and Foshan, four ships that had sortied from Huangpu Military Port not long ago.

The Huangpu-class had a full-load displacement exceeding 950 tons and used a sail-steam hybrid power system. This class was a shallow-draft multi-purpose vessel capable of independently carrying out various missions on the open ocean, with the advantages of high self-sustainability, long range, and shallow draft.

The Huangpu-class Cruiser used a double-deck design. The ship's armament consisted of 4-pounder long-barreled naval Storming Fortress cannons, with a total of 10 other cannons of 18-pound caliber and below.

For a near-thousand-ton armed warship, the Huangpu-class's armament might seem slightly weak. However, that depends on what you compare it to. In seventeenth-century Southeast Asia, the Huangpu-class Cruiser's armament could be considered invincible, as proven today by sinking Spanish armed merchant ships with equal numbers and ease.

After enduring the bombardment of the long-barreled cannons and witnessing a friendly ship being sunk, the Spanish finally realized that further stubborn resistance would see them all sent to the seabed to feed the fish, and so they struck their sails and raised a white flag.

At this moment, the Spanish were actually less than 15 nautical miles from Shunhua Port. Yet these 15 nautical miles had become a road of certain death from which there was no return.

After the Spanish, who had served as the main force, raised the white flag, the audience, having endured the plot's twists and turns, thought the show was about to end. But the audience was wrong, because there was still a final act.

Seeing the targets strike their sails, the four high-speed Cruisers immediately abandoned the Spanish and, utterly disregarding the crosswind, billowed thick black smoke as they charged toward the coastline.

The main actors were unwilling to leave the stage, so the Group Performers in the direction of the coastline could only continue to play along. Panicked like stray dogs, they did not hesitate to fire upon their own peers, just to carve out a bloody path of escape. Yet in such a chaotic situation, how could the traditional ships of the Natives possibly speed up?

In the end, it wasn't long before the four death-bringers charged from east to west to the outer edge of the great mass of fleeing southern ships. After a beautiful turn before the enemy, the two sides formed a Confrontation formation: the large mass fleeing south, while the Cruiser battle line skimmed the edge, decelerating as it headed north.

Probably even the mules pulling carts on shore could guess what plot would unfold next. Following a long, thunderous rumble, the dozens of large cannons on the four warships fired a fierce and powerful volley.

The various large-caliber cannons firing right along the flank of the great ship mass were almost impossible to miss in this situation. The enemy's formation had been automatically compressed when the battle line charged over, turning into a tightly packed formation desperately huddling toward the shore to take cover.

The pirate ships in the great mass were mostly Blessing ships and Guangdong ships and their variants, all old-style hard-sail ships with single hull planks. The cluster of ships closest to the battle line, after taking the volley, was like a row of dominoes pushed by a giant palm; they were visibly beaten back. Some unlucky ones, pierced through with two holes, had already begun to list and sink.

The Big Brother in the fleet felt his eyes split with rage at this moment. He watched helplessly as that terrifying wall of fire formed, watched helplessly as a layer of dark shadows burst from the wall of fire, and watched helplessly as the shadows pierced through the nearest cluster of ships, smashing them into broken bones and utter devastation.

This familiar scene stunned the Big Brother. What surfaced in his eyes now were those scenes in the Min Sea, at Lingdingyang, on the Pearl River, in the Qiong Sea—scene after scene of gunboat volleys likewise spewing flame and death.

Suddenly, the wails of the dying, the crackling of burning sails, the sloshing of seawater flooding into cabins through shell-hit hull planks, and the terrified shouts of countless pirates around him flooded into the Big Brother's ears. The slow motion returned to normal.

And the Big Brother seemed to have figured things out. The next moment, staring at a certain fleet ahead about to fire a second volley, he calmly instructed his subordinate: "Dog, turn the rudder. Beach the ship."

Dog was dumbfounded. Pointing at the densely packed, excited Northern Vietnamese on the shore, he roared: "Boss, beaching means we're finished! We won't be able to escape!"

"And if we don't beach, where can we run to?"

The Big Brother swept his gaze over the brothers beside him who had followed him through life and death all this time, and suddenly roared: "Even if we break out today, where is the road back? Over these past few years, we brothers have retreated from Fuzhou to Annam. Where else can we retreat to? Siam? That bastard Cao has already reached Annam; will he let Siam go?"

Seeing his men all fall silent at his words, the Big Brother let out a dejected, bitter laugh, finally revealing an expression of "I don't want to try anymore."

He pulled a wooden seal from his bosom and waved it: "This is the seal I got from Shenglong Prefecture before. Going ashore, I can at least say a few good words. After all, we are Ming People. At worst, we just surrender to Grand Commandant Cao. The Annamese won't be able to do anything to us brothers, and we'll probably keep our lives."

Just as the Big Brother was convincing his men, as if by telepathy, a large number of ships in the fleet suddenly turned to beach themselves. It seemed this Big Brother was not the only one who didn't want to try anymore.

This bizarre scene left the Northern Vietnamese on shore dumbstruck: wasn't this just meat delivered to their doorstep?

Soon, the Northern Vietnamese, having caught on, began sounding horns as formed units of troops mobilized. The elite Imperial Guard also began donning armor and preparing for battle, ready to head to the Beach to deal with the pirates walking right into the trap.

With the plot developed to this step, this was originally the grand finale.

But a proper blockbuster usually has a post-credits scene at the end, and today was No Exception.

The Cruiser fleet, which had been slowly heading north, upon discovering that the current enemy had either raised white flags or beached themselves, did not halt its advance but continued slowly northward. During this time, it occasionally fired a volley or two, sending the stubborn fools who refused to strike their sails down to feed the fish.

And at this moment, another Power Base on the Battlefield stirred with commotion.

Who? The Northern Vietnamese outsourced contractors.

Actually, the moment the "friendly" Cruiser battle line charged over, the Northern Vietnamese outsourced contractors, who should have been cheering and turning back to counterattack, were already somewhat agitated and at a loss. This manifested in their actions as hesitant, standing by and watching from their original positions.

It was just that at that time, everyone's attention was focused on the South Yue fleet, so no one noticed the unusual state of the Northern Vietnamese side.

After This, when the numerous Northern Vietnamese outsourced contractors discovered that the pristine white battle line, after slowly "scraping" past the great South Yue fleet, seemed to be intentionally or unintentionally continuing to inch northward, they instantly exploded into an uproar.

As the saying goes, who knows you better than your opponent? Or to describe it from another angle: those Ming People outsourced contractors of Northern Vietnam, over the long and glorious years of "resisting Cao," had long seen through the heart, liver, and lungs of this hypocritical, domineering, and brutal enemy of the working people, this evil capitalist force. They had a full understanding and knowledge of what the opponent's next move would be.

All were lessons bought with the blood of brothers, damn it!

The next moment, as if by prior agreement, the battle line, which had already begun to move lazily, instantly billowed thick, incompletely burned smoke again and began using steam power to speed northward against the wind, its cannon muzzles flashing with a greenish gleam pushed back out through the portholes.

And the Northern Vietnamese outsourced contractors, mentally prepared long ago—these international wandering pirate crews with wooden seals issued by both North and South Yue tucked in their bosoms—instantly began to either flee, beach their ships, or strike sails and raise white flags, their actions utterly identical to their South Yue counterparts.

And with that, the play ends.

As for the vast audience on the shore, they could no longer produce any appropriate reaction — collectively frozen in a state of stupor.

The reason for this, Master Xing had long since explained: when a person suffers too great a blow, they enter a state of neurogenic shock and cease to react.