Chapter 610: The Gates of Hell Open

"General," the Chief of Staff leaned in, lowering his voice, "What shall we do?"

Schmidt did not answer immediately.

He watched the five approaching Yingguo warships, watched the white wakes they left on the sea, watched the turrets glittering in the sunlight—

He recalled the words the veteran commander Tirpitz had said before departure: "Return alive."

The veteran commander, he thought, might truly not return this time.

But he did not speak it.

"All fleet," he said, his voice even, as if reading a logistics report, "Course 270°, speed 23 knots. Load Main Gun with armor‑piercing shells. Prepare for battle."

The order was given.

The King's rudder wheel turned, the bow slowly shifting from southwest to due west. Caesar, Louis de Bordeaux, and Empress Ship followed closely, the four Deguo battleships tracing elegant arcs on the sea, aligning their broadsides toward the southeast—the direction from which the Yingguo fleet was approaching.

Broadsides faced the enemy. This is the standard tactical formation for battleship duels, allowing all Main Guns to fire simultaneously.

Schmidt walked to the rear of the bridge, where a massive chart table stood. He bent down, looking at the positions the staff had just marked for both sides.

Deguo fleet: four King Class ships, in a single column, course 270°, speed 23 knots. Position latitude XX°XX′, longitude XX°XX′.

Yingguo fleet: five Elizabeth Queen Class ships, also in a single column, course adjusting from the initial 260°, evidently also preparing for battle.

Distance between them: 23,000 meters. Closing at roughly one nautical mile per minute.

Schmidt straightened up, looking toward the signalman.

"Send a signal to each ship," he said, "Content: Fight independently. German Navy forever."

The signalman's finger trembled on the signal lamp.

"General," he raised his head, his eyes slightly reddened, "this…"

"Send," Schmidt said.

The signal lamp began to flash. The light was not conspicuous in the morning sun, but everyone knew what it meant.

Thirty seconds later, a reply came from Caesar: "Received. German Navy forever."

Then from Louis de Bordeaux: "Received. German Navy forever."

Finally from Empress Ship: "Received. German Navy forever."

No one spoke on the bridge.

Schmidt walked back to the side window and raised his telescope.

The outlines of the five Yingguo warships had become clearer. He could see their bridge structures, the guns pointing at them, and even the battle flag fluttering from the mast of the flagship Elizabeth Queen Ship—the flag of Jellico.

During the Japanese‑German‑Netherlands sea battle, he had once faced Jellico across the water. At that time the distance was 20,000 meters; neither side fired, silently staring at each other for a full two hours before each withdrew.

Today is different.

Today there is no retreat.

09:51 a. m.

The first salvo of shells fell.

Jellico lowered his telescope, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

23,000 meters. Perfect.

He need not close any further. At this range, the Deguo King Class's 305 mm Main Gun poses almost no threat to the Elizabeth Queen Class's vertical armor— the shells' impact angle is too steep, kinetic energy insufficient; even a direct hit would merely make a shallow dent before ricocheting.

But the Elizabeth Queen Class's 381 mm Main Gun is different.

At this range, the 381 mm armor‑piercing shell still retains enough kinetic energy to penetrate the King Class's side armour belt—provided the impact angle is right and the point of aim is accurate.

"Notify all ships," Jellico ordered, his voice unnervingly calm, "Maintain a distance of over 22,000 meters, fire at will. Do not let the Germans close in."

The signalman raised the signal flag.

The front Main Gun of the Elizabeth Queen Ship rose slowly. The four twin‑mounted 381 mm turrets turned slowly in the sunlight, their barrels pointing southeast. The gunners leaned over the rangefinder, continuously adjusting firing parameters based on optical range data.

"Target, Deguo fleet flagship King," the gun captain's voice came through the speaking tube, "Distance 23,000 meters, bearing 270°, speed 23 knots. Set firing parameters."

"Main Gun ready," the turret replied.

Jellico took a deep breath.

"Fire."

09:51 a. m.

The front Main Gun of the Elizabeth Queen Ship burst into flame.

It was not a single beam but eight. At the instant the eight 381 mm guns fired together, the muzzle flames nearly engulfed the entire bow. The shockwave raised a ring of visible ripples on the sea, spreading outward. Thick smoke spewed from the barrels, blown by the wind into a gray curtain.

When the shells left the barrels, Jellico heard that sound.

It was not a roar but a tearing. The sound of air being ripped, like a massive fabric snapping in an instant. Then a sharp scream—the shell's whistling as it tore through the air, piercing, sharp enough to split the eardrum.

Forty seconds later, those shells would land around the Deguo warships 23,000 meters away.

Forty seconds.

Jellico began the countdown.

At thirty seconds, Agincourt fired. Then Barham, Valiant, and Malaya followed. The five Yingguo battleships sequentially spewed fire, the roar of forty 381 mm Main Guns exploding across the sea, rattling the bridge windows.

The muzzle flashes flickered in the morning mist, like forty bolts of lightning striking at once.

Jellico raised his telescope, aligning it with the Deguo fleet's bearing.

Thirty seconds.

Twenty seconds.

Ten seconds.

Five seconds—

On the sea surface, the first column of water rose around the Deguo warships.

Schmidt watched those water columns rise from the sea.

First volley of simultaneous fire, the shells landed about three hundred meters off the left side of the King Ship. A column of water shot up, almost as high as the mast, then at the highest point it spread, turning into white spray that the sea wind scattered.

No hit.

But the impact points of the crossfire showed that the Yingguo's salvo was very precise. A three‑hundred‑meter deviation was already too close for the first volley.

"Yingguo guys are hitting very accurately," the Chief of Staff said, standing at his side, his voice tense.

Schmidt nodded.

He said nothing, just stared at the sea, waiting for the second round.

Twenty seconds later, the second volley fell.

This time even closer. The nearest shell landed eighty meters off the left side, the explosion's spray wetting the spare anchor chain on the after deck. Fragments whistled across the hull, leaving a few shallow scratches on the steel plates.

"Return fire!" Schmidt finally ordered, "All Main Guns, aim at the Queen Elizabeth, three‑round salvo!"

The King Ship's five twin‑mounted 305‑mm guns at the bow and stern began to roar.

The gunfire was sharper and higher‑pitched than the Yingguo's 381 guns. Ten shells burst from the barrels simultaneously, tracing ten almost invisible arcs in the air above the sea, heading toward the Yingguo flagship twenty‑three thousand meters away.

Forty seconds later, those shells fell.