War may have its beautiful side, but it is never without bloodshed. On the battlefield, it’s kill or be killed—even if everyone is Eastlyn, they fight each other to the death because they belong to different camps.
As the sun set in the west and the golden crow dipped into the sea, after hours of fierce fighting, the surface of the ocean was stained bloody red. No matter how the waves churned, they couldn’t wash away the blood in such a short time.
The sea breeze blew in, carrying the salty, humid air mixed with the stench of blood—impossible for anyone to like. But those who’ve spent enough time at sea are already used to it.
Ash Zuo was already seasick on the warship, and now the stench made it worse. He clung to the mast and threw up, wanting to ask Serena Feng for anti-seasickness medicine, but...
With more and more wounded coming in, Serena Feng grew busier and busier, having no time to deal with a 'minor' issue like Ash’s nausea that didn’t even involve blood.
Cleaning wounds, disinfecting, applying medicine, bandaging; for serious cases, suturing was needed. The steps were simple, but the repetitive work wore down anyone’s patience.
The ship's military doctors and young apprentices grew impatient as they got busy, wishing they could patch up every wounded soldier instantly. Hearing the injured cry out in pain only made them more anxious. But Serena Feng neither grew irritable from the rush nor panicked when the wounded called out. She stayed calm and focused, working steadily and unaffected by the chaos around her.
Serena’s hands moved quickly but never carelessly. Though she hadn’t dealt with so many wounded in a long time, her skills were etched into her bones—impossible to forget. Treating trauma was instinct; she could do it with her eyes closed.
The military doctors nearby had been anxious and uneasy seeing so many wounded, but watching Serena—a young woman—move among the injured with calm efficiency and decisive speed, they found themselves infected by her composure. Their own agitation faded, and even when the sea breeze blew the stench of blood into their faces, they didn’t so much as frown.
Ninth Royal Uncle glanced over unintentionally, his gaze pausing for a moment before quickly looking away. The war wasn’t over yet; he couldn’t afford to lose focus. While the detailed tactics didn’t need his direct command, the overall situation still depended on him.
With the power of the thunder-blast grenades, Ninth Royal Uncle’s side clearly had the upper hand. As the fighting continued, his men advanced and retreated with discipline. When five enemy ships were smashed and sunk by the fish-men, the outcome of the battle began to surface.
“Your Highness, what should we do next?” The Eastlyn navy was already in shambles; if the enemy hadn’t outnumbered them so much, the fight would have ended long ago.
“Spare those who surrender. Kill without mercy those who resist.” Ninth Royal Uncle gave his cold order. Even though the enemy were Eastlyn soldiers too, he showed no softness.
Years of experience had made his heart as hard as stone. He wouldn’t go soft on enemies, and not even on his own men—or himself. The only person he could ever soften for was that one...
The same promise of ‘spare those who surrender’ had been made by the Eastlyn navy before the battle; now it was Ninth Royal Uncle’s side saying it. The former had gone unanswered, but now...
“Eastlyn sons would rather die than surrender!” The Eastlyn navy’s commander might not have been skilled at naval warfare, but he still had the backbone of a soldier. Ninth Royal Uncle gazed across the hundreds of meters between them; he couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, but he could see his proud defiance.
Ninth Royal Uncle nodded in approval. “Give him a proper burial.”
“I’ll make sure he gets a whole corpse.” Hearing this, Ash Zuo stopped vomiting, grabbed a nearby sword, and leapt straight onto the Eastlyn navy commander’s ship.
“Protect the general! Protect the general!” Eastlyn sailors shouted, but against the assassin Ash Zuo, they were nothing. Ash charged forward without fear or hesitation, leaving no one standing in his path.
Very soon, Ash Zuo reached the Eastlyn navy commander. His bloodied blade pointed at the man’s throat; all traces of laziness were gone. His eyes were sharp, his expression icy, his whole body radiating a chilling aura. “Because you’d rather die than surrender, I’ll leave you a whole corpse.”
“Thank you. Please, Your Highness, for the sake of us all just following orders, spare these men—they’re innocent.” The navy commander looked grief-stricken. Earlier, hearing Ash Zuo claim to be Ninth Royal Uncle and seeing his cold arrogance and extraordinary bearing, he’d thought Ash was really Ninth Royal Uncle.
Ash Zuo let out a cold laugh, neither agreeing nor refusing. Under the commander’s hopeful gaze, Ash thrust his blade forward, driving it straight into the man’s throat.
“If you have a problem, take it up with Ninth Royal Uncle. Talking to me is useless—I never bargain with anyone.” With that, he yanked out his blade and turned away.
“You’re not...” The Eastlyn navy commander died with his eyes open, never realizing Ash Zuo wasn’t Ninth Royal Uncle, which was why he hadn’t fought back.
Ash Zuo ignored him, leapt back onto the rescue ship. His killing spree had taken only an instant, and by the time the Eastlyn navy reacted, their commander was already dead.
The deputy commander scrambled to take charge. Ninth Royal Uncle watched the chaos—the Eastlyn navy was fighting back on pure instinct, and a flash of disappointment crossed his eyes.
Just losing a single commander, and the Eastlyn navy fell apart—this was no army, just a band of pirates with no organization or discipline.
Although the continent of Jiuzhou was mostly land, it did have seas. Eastlyn’s navy was so poor it was almost pitiful. Since his good royal brother didn’t value the navy, Nolan might as well take it over himself.
Ninth Royal Uncle was furious. He ordered a warship brought forward and personally led the charge at the front lines.
Serena Feng was too busy treating the wounded to notice that Ninth Royal Uncle had joined the fight himself. Even if she had noticed, she wouldn’t have said anything—commanders fighting on the front lines wasn’t exactly rare.
The sounds of ships crashing and soldiers shouting filled the sky; hot blood dyed the cold sea red. The battle lasted a full day and night, and the result was exactly as the Emperor would later hear: thirty warships and twenty thousand sailors—except those buried at sea, all the rest were captured by Ninth Royal Uncle.
The survivors limped along in their damaged ships, bringing their captured soldiers, and clustered around Ninth Royal Uncle’s flagship, heading off toward the unknown depths of the sea.
On board, Serena Feng had worked nonstop for a full day and night, saving countless wounded. Even those who’d originally resented her now felt only respect and gratitude.
Tradition said women weren’t allowed on ships—they’d bring bad luck and capsize the vessel. Under Ninth Royal Uncle’s strict rule, no one dared say it out loud, but deep down, they’d been extremely dissatisfied and dismissive of Serena Feng.
Now, though, they were incredibly grateful Serena was there. So what if she was a woman? Having her on board hadn’t cursed them—instead, it had saved their lives.
Serena herself had no idea about the taboo against women on ships. She’d always been up on deck, while the sailors stayed below; they rarely interacted. All she knew was that the sailors seemed hostile, quietly rejecting her, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t close to them, and never would be...
She saved people, she treated the wounded—that was her duty. Even if she wasn’t the navy’s doctor, she was Ninth Royal Uncle’s woman, and she’d do everything she could to reduce his losses.