Chapter 191: The Death God Under a Clear Sky

At 5:40 a. m., 125°17′ east longitude, 28°43′ north latitude.

The dense fog was like a heavy blanket, covering the sea surface for dozens of nautical miles. Visibility was under five hundred meters, and the water took on a lead‑gray, lifeless hue. The Revival, a battlecruiser, steamed forward at fifteen knots through this milky maze.

On the bridge, Lin Haisheng gripped the rail with both hands, his knuckles paling from the strain. His eyes stared at the rolling fog ahead, as if they could pierce the white veil and see the Death God hidden behind it.

"Radar report," he said without turning; his voice rang unusually clear in the silent bridge.

Radar officer Zhang Hao's voice came through the intercom, crackling with static: "Bearing 285, Distance twelve nautical miles, four large surface contacts, heading 030, speed… eighteen knots. Formation confirmed as combat."

"Size comparison?"

"Matches 92% with Vajra‑class data in the database. The largest contact is identified as the flagship Vajra."

Lin Haisheng nodded. Everything was proceeding as planned—the Allied fleet had arrived, four Vajra‑class ships and their Escort Fleet. The only question was how long this damned fog would linger.

Zhao Wenyuan walked over, handing him a cup of hot tea. The leaves, Tieguanyin from his Fujian hometown, released a faint orchid scent in the sealed bridge.

"Have some, you've been standing all night."

Lin Haisheng took the cup but did not drink. His gaze fell on the flickering dots on the radar screen. "Old Zhao, what do you think Kato Tomosaburo is thinking right now?"

Zhao Wenyuan was silent for a moment. "He thinks this fog is a gift from Amaterasu. He thinks the four‑to‑one odds make this the easiest prey the Imperial Navy has seen in forty years."

"Prey?" Lin Haisheng finally sipped the tea, a cold smile curling his lips. "Then let him see what teeth this prey has in its mouth."

At that moment, by the observation window on the left side of the bridge, the young signalman Xiao Wang let out a startled "eh".

"What is it?" Lin Haisheng snapped to attention.

Xiao Wang pointed outside, his voice uncertain: "Captain… do you see the fog, is it… thinning?"

Everyone followed his finger and looked out.

Indeed, to the southeast, the once impenetrable white was thinning and lightening at a visible rate. A shaft of golden sunlight pierced the mist, casting a long column on the sea.

Navigation officer Zhou Zhiwei hurried to the barometer, his complexion changing: "Pressure is rising rapidly… it's a moving high‑pressure ridge! Damn, the forecast said the fog would last until noon!"

"Talking about this now is useless," Lin Haisheng set down the cup, his voice suddenly harsh. "All ships go to Level‑One combat readiness! Load the Main Gun with armor‑piercing shells, and the engine rooms prepare for full output!"

The order broadcast through the ship's intercom reached all 3,500 compartments. The Revival, that sleeping steel leviathan, awoke in an instant.

At the same time, on the bridge of the Vajra battlecruiser.

Major General Kato Tomosaburo was carefully polishing his telescope with a cloth. It was a custom 1909 Zeiss (Deguo) instrument, the lenses bearing the German inscription "Dedicated to the Imperial Navy's keenest eyes." During the Russo‑Japanese War, he had used this very scope in the Strait of Tsushima to witness Toyohara Heihachiro's brilliant victory.

"Sir, the fog is clearing,"

The speaker was Chief of Staff Hei Dao, a forty‑year‑old officer with the typical Japanese military visage—square face, short beard, eyes sharp as a hawk.

Kato set the telescope aside and moved to the port window. Indeed, the fog was receding rapidly, like a stage curtain drawn back by an invisible hand. Where only the bow's spray had been visible, one could now make out the silhouette of an escort destroyer two hundred meters away.

"Weather officer!" Kato's voice was low but carried undeniable authority.

A young, bespectacled officer jogged over, sweat beading on his forehead: "Sir, a sudden high‑pressure ridge is passing… our earlier weather intel was wrong…"

"I don't need an explanation," Kato cut him off. "Tell me, how long until it's completely clear?"

"Ten… no, at most five minutes, sir! This sector will be perfectly clear!"

Kato fell silent. Five minutes. Enough for the prey to see the hunter, and for the hunter to see the prey. A perfect ambush plan, turned by an abrupt weather shift into a head‑on clash.

"Sir," Hei Dao whispered, "should we wait until the fog is fully gone before…"

"No." Kato replied resolutely. "When the fog lifts, the Revival will spot our four ships. They're not fools; faced with four‑to‑one, their first reaction will be to flee at full speed. The Revival's design speed is 32 knots, while our fastest Vajra‑class tops at 30 knots (the early models were only 27.5 knots, reaching 31.5 knots after the 1936 second refit). Once they gain distance, catching them will be difficult."

He raised the telescope again, aligning it with the thinnest stretch of fog: "Order all ships: when the fog clears, that will be the moment to strike. Target: Lanfang Revival battlecruiser. Primary objective: destroy its superstructure and cripple the command system."

"Yes!" Hei Dao stood at attention, saluted, and turned to relay the order.

Kato kept the telescope aloft, his eyes narrowed to a slit behind the lenses. His fingers unconsciously tapped the metal housing, producing a faint "tap, tap."

It had been ten years. Since the end of the Russo‑Japanese War, a full decade had passed without the Imperial Navy seeing a real sea battle. Those young sailors had only fired guns in drills; those officers had only wargamed tactics on sand tables. Now they were about to face a modern battlecruiser armed with eight 381 mm guns and armor twelve inches thick.

"Commander Yi Dong Youheng," Kato whispered inwardly, "if your spirit watches the heavens, please bless the Imperial Navy to achieve glorious victory again." (Yi Dong Youheng had died only recently.)

At 6:07 a. m., the fog had fully cleared.

Sunlight poured unobstructed onto the azure sea, sparkling. Visibility was astonishing; from the Vajra's bridge, the horizon twenty nautical miles out was as sharp as a cut.

At that moment, the lookout tower shouted a near‑screaming report:

"Ahead! Enemy ship sighted! Distance… eighteen thousand meters! Confirmed as Lanfang Revival!"

Kato instantly aimed the telescope that way. In the view, a massive deep‑gray battleship cleaved the waves, sailing with unhurried poise. Its massive gun barrels angled toward the sky; the towering bridge and honeycomb anti‑air gun nests cast long shadows in the sunlight.