On the Battlefield, Where I Am, You Will Be

"Ah, the thunder-blast grenades are useless now—the enemy does have brains after all." Zuo An's eyes flew wide open, then quickly calmed down.

Thunder-blast grenades are a surprise weapon to begin with, and they're not well suited for naval combat. We've already wasted who knows how many in that last volley.

It's hard to aim them into the water, and if the fuse isn't protected, it goes out halfway through. Just stirring up the Eastlyn Imperial Navy and breaking their offensive momentum is already good enough.

"Cease fire." Thunder-blast grenades have a fatal flaw at sea. Ninth Royal Uncle, even after ordering modifications, knows they're not a guaranteed win. He's satisfied with the results so far.

At Ninth Royal Uncle's command, everyone stopped wasting thunder-blast grenades. Seeing this, the Eastlyn Imperial Navy seized the opportunity. Under their commander's orders, they quickly regrouped and aimed their cannons at Ninth Royal Uncle's flagship.

Their goal had never changed: kill Ninth Royal Uncle!

"Boys, it's our turn! Attack—if we wipe out these pirates, we'll all get promoted and rewarded." The Eastlyn Imperial Navy commander wasn't stupid. Since Ninth Royal Uncle hadn't admitted his identity, he wouldn't mention it either. Everyone knew that, officially, Ninth Royal Uncle was sick and recuperating in a small county town on the way to Shandong.

"Yes, sir!" The Eastlyn Imperial Navy may not be experts at sea combat, but they've spent years on the coast and are tough as nails. After suffering a heavy loss just now, their fighting spirit was at its peak.

"Charge!"

The warships surged forward at full speed, crashing into Ninth Royal Uncle's side. Even though his ships were smaller, they didn't lose out in the collision.

"Board the ships! Attack!"

As the warships clashed, Ninth Royal Uncle refused to back down. With a single command, he ordered his soldiers to storm the Eastlyn Imperial Navy's ships.

The real war was only beginning. You can't win a battle just by tricks—victory needs wise commanders and fearless warriors.

Attack—never retreat!

Both sides hacked and dodged, thud thud thud... People kept falling into the sea, ships rocked so hard no one could stay upright, but the fighting never stopped. Some ships spun in circles in the middle of the waves, but nobody cared—everyone was focused on cutting down the enemy.

Whizz whizz whizz... Crossbow bolts shot through the crowd, flying at Ninth Royal Uncle's warship. Crack crack... They buried themselves in the hull and didn't move.

Outnumbered and outgunned, even if Ninth Royal Uncle's navy fought fiercely, holding out like this wouldn't help. He didn't want to lose too many of his own men—so he'd have to sacrifice someone else.

"Underwater Corps, prepare to dive." Ninth Royal Uncle commanded. A squad in strange full-body suits appeared, walked down the planks into the water like dragons plunging into the sea, and with a splash, vanished below the surface.

"General, the enemy has fish-men." After so long at sea, the Eastlyn Imperial Navy couldn't possibly not know what those were.

So-called 'fish-men' have nothing to do with actual fish—they're just regular soldiers, but better at swimming than most, able to fight underwater and stay submerged longer than anyone else.

"Send our fish-men out—don't let them smash our ships!" The Eastlyn Imperial Navy commander frowned in deep frustration. He hadn't expected his first real battle to be such a brutal test.

"But..." The deputy hesitated. Their fish-men were only useful in shallow water—out here in the open sea, they'd last barely ten minutes. That's why they'd held them back until now.

"But what? Send the fish-men in! We can't let them destroy our ships, or we'll all end up at the bottom of the sea." The commander barked. The deputy didn't dare argue, and immediately ordered the fish-men to dive.

Same gear, same moves—the Eastlyn fish-men vanished quickly into the water too. Under the waves, another fight erupted. The Eastlyn fish-men searched for Ninth Royal Uncle's divers and, sure enough, found them attacking their own ships.

Blub blub blub... You can't talk underwater, so the Eastlyn fish-men signaled to each other, then swam for their own hulls—remembering to draw their daggers.

Underwater, the best weapons are small, sharp daggers.

Splash splash... Cutting through the water, the fish-men surged forward. Both sides tangled at the bottom, wrestling and stabbing. Blood spurted bright red, instantly swept away by the currents—just a muffled grunt, and then... a fish-man sank forever, never to surface again.

Underwater, some were stabbed to death, some simply drowned alive. The fighting below was even fiercer than on the surface. Watching the circles of blood spreading, Serena Feng tugged Ninth Royal Uncle's sleeve, signaling that it was time to start rescuing.

Standing at the prow, commanding the whole battle, Ninth Royal Uncle's eyes flashed with helpless indulgence. He nodded, then ordered the soldiers below: "Send out the rescue boats—pull up the wounded."

"Yes, sir." No one was surprised by this order.

Falling into the sea didn't mean instant death—if you were hauled up, you still had a chance. Normally, rescue only happened after the fighting was over; no one sent boats out in the middle of battle. But now, Serena Feng insisted, and what could he do?

"I'm going too." Zuo An had been itching to join in; if he weren't so bad at sea combat, he'd have jumped in already.

Ninth Royal Uncle didn't say anything, which meant tacit approval. Serena Feng, though, reminded him, "Be careful. If you fall in, no one's coming to save you."

"Don't look down on me." Zuo An glared at Serena Feng. The more he looked at her, the more annoyed he got. He could accept getting nowhere with Ninth Royal Uncle, but why did he always lose out to Serena Feng too?

"Fine, but if you get hurt or seasick, don't come crying to me. Who was it that nearly threw up as soon as he boarded a warboat?" Serena Feng shot back, giving him no face at all.

No one knew what was up with Zuo An—he was fine on big ships, but as soon as he got on a small warboat and it started rocking, he'd get seasick. Luckily, Serena Feng's anti-nausea medicine saved him, or he'd have been miserable.

Knowing he was in the wrong, Zuo An could only grit his teeth and endure. The rescue boats were already in the water; with a snort, Zuo An jumped aboard.

Serena Feng couldn't stand still either. "The wounded will be brought up soon. I'd better go get ready."

"Mm." Ninth Royal Uncle replied, his gaze cooling as he hid the warmth in his eyes. The navy seemed to sense their master's mood and grew fiercer, charging ahead without fear.

The Eastlyn Imperial Navy had the numbers, but they weren't skilled at sea warfare. Ninth Royal Uncle's own navy had plenty of practice fighting pirates; with just one command, they knew how to win with minimal losses.

The battle was still deadlocked, but Ninth Royal Uncle wasn't anxious at all. He idly rubbed the thumb ring on his finger, watching Serena Feng weave through the wounded, focused on saving lives—and couldn't help feeling proud.

The woman he cared for was truly extraordinary. While he charged at the front, she could calm the troops from the rear.

On the battlefield, wherever he was, she would be too!