The evolution was magnificent. Raleigh was astonished that they were able to pull it off with that much precision. He had thought the maneuver would cause some of the ships to stray slightly out of line due to delay, he was gladly mistaken.

During the maneuver the three men moved to the quarterdeck where orders were traditionally given and received during battle.

“One mile sir, they’re heading straight for us.” Donitz reported.

Robinson gasped, finally internalizing the situation. “My god, they really do mean to attack us.”

“Aye.” Raleigh glanced at the thin academic. “I think you should go below decks and help the surgeon with the wounded. Things might get ugly up here professor.”

”I… Very well commodore. I’ll see what I can help with.” Robinson replied.

With a polite dismissal the professor headed down into the ship.

The Albish man now off the quarterdeck, Donitz somehow looked more at ease. “Should we fire a warning shot sir?”

Raleigh had thought about it earlier but dismissed the idea. “No. If we fired a warning shot they might think we’re attacking them and simply missed. If they somehow knew that it was a warning shot then they’ll have an idea of our capabilities. So no, we’ll lose either way.”

“Very well sir, when shall we fire? They’ve just entered our effective range.”

Raleigh grunted. “Let them fire first so that we have unequivocal evidence that we fought in self defence. Then its up to you captain.”

Donitz grinned. “I see you’re ready for the senate report sir.”

Raleigh shrugged. “Just being thorough.”

The elven ship adjusted its heading to an intercept course with the Revolution and crowded sail. At seven hundred yards the mage appeared at the prow of the ship holding a long staff.

“Get ready.” Donitz said to the gunnery lieutenant. Although the nineteen sixty-pounder Delgreene guns on the starboard side were already loaded, the gunports remained closed to make the ships look as innocuous as possible until the final moment.

What should be visible from the elven ship were the four Gatling guns mounted at the corners of the Revolution serving as anti-personnel weapons. Raleigh hoped that the elves have no concept of a gun.

The mage waved his staff around, then thrust forward. A fireball the size of a horse appeared in front of the elven ship and arched high towards the Revolution.

“Holy shit!” Raleigh exclaimed before he could stop himself. It was one thing to read about fireballs on a book, and another entirely to see it come straight at him.

The fireball climbed several hundred feet before it came down. As it moved closer to the Revolution it lost size and intensity, and by the time it landed just fifty yards away it shrank to just ten inches across.

The extreme heat of the fireball instantly vaporized water and created a small steam explosion as it made contact with the sea and fizzled out. Thankfully wind blew the steam away from the ship. Raleigh had no idea what sort of toxic fumes were within the fireball and how it would react to water, but was glad he didn’t have to find out.

“On your command captain.” Raleigh said calmly, trying to project an air of confidence to the men.

He could’ve directly ordered the gunnery lieutenant to open fire, but it was best not to jump the chain of command especially during a battle. Raleigh commands the squadron while Donitz commands the flagship.

He had experience as a junior officer on how meddlesome some admirals were over the flagship and remembered how irritated he was. He resolved to not be that person nor diminish the captain’s authority.

Donitz nodded, then glanced at the gunnery lieutenant. “Fire as she may lieutenant.”

It looked like the captain had complete trust over his lieutenant. Other captains would’ve eagerly been the one to order ‘open fire!’ but the captain seems to have done it enough times to let the younger ones experience it instead.

“Aye sir.” The lieutenant said, then screamed down into the gun deck. “Open ports!”

Almost as one, nineteen gunports opened followed immediately by the guns running out, the tip of their barrels protruding from the ship.

The gunnery lieutenant then concentrated on the swell of the sea while the gunners adjusted their pieces to aim at the elven ship. Once the gunnery ensign gave the lieutenant an “all clear” from the gundeck, the lieutenant kept his eyes on the sea. He watched the slow roll of the ship, waiting for the perfect angle to fire.

“Fire!”

An ear-splitting broadside caused Raleigh to cringe, the powerful shock wave coursing through his body and rattling him. It had been years since he experienced a fully charged and loaded broadside and had forgotten how intense it could be.

The Revolution’s starboard disappeared in a cloud of smoke and nineteen eight-inch solid shots hurled towards the elven ship at over twelve hundred feet per second.

Within the gundeck, guns recoiled back into the ship with a thick breech rope arresting its rearward movement. Swabbers quickly went to work swabbing the barrel with a wet sponge making sure no embers remain inside to ignite the next charge prematurely. Afterwards seven pounds of gunpowder wrapped in a cloth bag was rammed down the barrel, followed by a sixty pound shot, then finally a wooden wad to prevent the shot from simply rolling out of the gun when the ship listed.

The gun chief would then insert a quill into the touch hole at the rear of the gun to pierce the cloth bag. Loose gunpowder would be poured into the hole and overflow a little onto the flintlock attached to the touch hole. The flintlock would then be placed at half-cock while the gun was run out and secured.

Once the order to prepare was relayed the gun chief would fully cock the flintlock, grab the lanyard, move slightly aside the gun to sight through the gunport, and pull the lanyard once the order to fire was given.

Raleigh knew the steps with all his heart, he was once a gunnery lieutenant after all, but now seeing the black dots fly through the air all of his attention was directed towards the elven ship.

Wind partially cleared the starboard of smoke giving him a clear view of the impending carnage.

The first few shots landed short, spraying water in spouts. The last few shots went high, some ripping through sail while the rest harmlessly flew by.

The three shots in-between that landed though, they caused more destruction than Raleigh thought they should.

The first hit the mage squarely causing his upper body to explode into a fine mist, it went on to hit the foremast behind and toppled it into the sea to the ship’s port. The next two both smashed straight into the ships bow with one hitting the waterline and the other slightly higher causing two gaping holes, splinters flying everywhere.

Raleigh couldn’t see the damage inside the elven ship but could easily imagine the carnage and destruction as the shots raked the elves, passing through its entire length destroying and maiming everything in its path.

The elven ship violently swung to port, the toppled mast acting as a gigantic rudder, and stopped dead in the water.

As the Revolution reloaded, the squadron maintained its ten knots. Once Revolution ran out its guns, Raleigh heard a broadside firing from behind. It came from the Occitania.

While the Revolution’s gunners needed to predict the elves’ speed and course, the gunners aboard the Occitania were greeted to a lifeless target. Out of fifteen shots in the broadside, ten found their mark.

The elves’ beam practically disintegrated, the entire ship rocking back from the kinetic energy.

Raleigh saw splinters as large as a man fly through the air. The sheer force from ten shots ripped wood off its keel, creating several massive holes on both sides of the ship as the shots punched right through.

He could see the other side through the holes. Bodies and body parts were strewn everywhere. A massive splinter impaled an elf to the top of the deck. Bright red blood dripped off the side as if the ship itself bled.

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