Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 72 The Gambling Table
What is the most important quality for a gambler?
Some people would call it "luck," while others would call it the wisdom of "winning and leaving."

But a true gambler only loses because of bad luck, not because of good luck. If they win, they only think it's because of their superior skill.

As for "winning and leaving"? Such a person doesn't even qualify as a proper gambler. A true gambler will reinvest their winnings until they lose everything.

Gamblers believe that the most important skill at the gambling table is seizing opportunities. A skilled gambler can grasp fleeting opportunities and also has the courage to bet all their money at once in order to become the winner and take all the winnings.

As one of the zipline masters of the Tanilia Federation, Frank Drake may be an incurable gambler, but even his enemies applaud his ability to seize opportunities.

And tonight's fighter jets are an opportunity that comes only once in a lifetime.

Half of the main warships in Venetta's fleet were oarsmen resting in the harbor, while only eleven large sailing ships and a few small light sailing ships, as well as twenty-one merchant ships carrying army officers and soldiers, were anchored outside the harbor.

East of the Lighthouse Harbor anchorage are reefs and sandbars stretching for more than ten nautical miles. Unless the navigator is very familiar with this dangerous waters, the entire fleet is in danger of being wiped out once it enters.

At that moment, a strong northwest wind was blowing in from the sea. The tide turned, and the evening tide surged towards the shore, coinciding with the darkness of night. Drake's fleet, carried by the northwest wind, firmly occupied the windward position, enjoying perfect timing and terrain.

The Vengeance Fleet could easily be blown to the eastern seas by the wind and waves if it is not careful. Once it is driven there, the sea will teach the Venetians a lesson in danger without Drake's fleet having to lift a finger.

Army officers like Winters were completely unaware of this. They heard the war drums beating on the ships and all the sailors preparing for battle in an orderly manner. They felt their blood boiling and wanted to fight a great battle.

But naval officers—especially senior officers at the captain level—understand this sea area and are even more aware of the power of nature.

The fate of the entire fleet now rests on the shoulders of Admiral Naresha. Every captain is holding their breath, hoping that the admiral is not just talking big but is truly confident.

On the deck of the flagship Glorious of the Vengeance Fleet, everyone gradually quieted down and turned their gaze to the forecastle, where the fleet's supreme commander was located.

Lieutenant General Nareshaw, perched on the bow, showed no emotion. He simply gripped the gunwale tightly with both hands and, without turning his head, ordered, "Mr. Karaman?"

"Yes, sir." The first mate snapped to attention reflexively.

"Pass my orders to all ships, with the Glorious as the lead ship. Set course due north, weigh anchor and depart!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Everyone heard the lieutenant general's order!" First Officer Karaman shouted at the deck: "Lower the small boats! Set the course due north! Raise the triangular sails! Quickly!"

The once quiet deck came alive again on Naresha's orders.

The boatswain blew his whistle, a sharp whistle that went two short and two long. This time, even the sailors who hadn't heard the first mate's command clearly understood the meaning of the whistle.

The signal lights at the stern were lit, sending commands to the entire fleet through a regular on/off cycle.

A dozen or so sailors nimbly climbed up the sail lines and attached the pulley system. The sailors on deck worked together, and several triangular sails rose between the masts.

Winters recognized this type of sail; the first mate on the skuas had taught him how to sail against the wind using this triangular sail.

But he couldn't understand what the sailors did next. Two more small boats were launched from the ship's side onto the sea, and the deck crew busily tied ropes between the bow mast and the small boats.

"What are you doing?" Winters asked Cage, puzzled.

“Warships are large, so they must be anchored upwind to be safe,” Cage explained. “But when we weigh anchor, we must first use a small boat to adjust the ship’s direction, otherwise it will be spun around by the wind.”

"Row, boys! Row harder!" the burly boatswain roared.

The sailors on the small boat vigorously swung their oars, pulling the Glory gradually toward the north, roughly at a right angle to the wind direction.

Twelve sailors strained with the winch, their faces contorted in pain, their muscles taut, their bodies almost leaning against the deck. With a sickening thud, the anchor, sunk on the seabed, was slowly pulled up.

The moment the anchor left the seabed, the entire ship jerked forward. What had been a tug-of-war between the anchor and the sail suddenly gave way, and the sailboat, along with the entire hull, began to slowly accelerate.

"The lieutenant general is going to lead us north, to avoid the reefs to the east." Cage swallowed nervously. "That's too dangerous...too dangerous..."

"Where is the danger?"

Cage pointed to the sails billowing in the wind and said, "The wind and waves are carrying us eastward, and at night we can't tell which way is which at all. We might think we're going north, but we're actually getting closer and closer to the east. The Glory is the guide ship; if the Glory goes astray, it will lead the entire fleet to a dead end."

Winters didn't know what Nareshaw's plan was. But he had carefully studied the surprise attack on East Harbor. Taniria's commander had twice used feints to concentrate superior forces in localized areas and defeat the port's defenders piecemeal. Moreover, he didn't linger in battle, tearing off pieces and leaving, leaving the Venetian army that came to reinforce empty-handed.

Such a brilliant battle is rare even in military academy textbooks. And the man who commanded this battle is now leading his fleet towards the Glorious. Will he give Veneta's fleet a chance?
As the revenge fleet anxiously weighed anchor and set sail, the Taniria fleet on the sea to the northwest had already entered within one kilometer of the Veneta fleet, while the Glorious's anchor had not yet been pulled out of the water.

The silhouettes of the Tannian ships gradually came into focus, with five imposing large ships in the center and others of slightly lesser size on either side. Unlike the brightly lit Veneta fleet, Drake's ships were completely dark, with no lights at all. The twenty-odd dark warships approached the Veneta Revenge fleet in a roughly crescent shape.

Cage counted the Tanilians' warships: "I counted twenty-one. Five large ships, which should be the warships we were robbed in Haidong Port, the others look like armed merchant ships."

“We have over forty ships, while they only have twenty or so. If we still can’t beat your navy, we might as well disband it,” Andrei said casually.

“That’s not how it works,” Cage shook his head. “The galleys are currently resting ashore, and those troop transports are useless. It’s not forty to twenty, but ten to twenty-one. Our warships are of higher quality, but the wind and conditions are unfavorable to us. If we could board them, we might still have a chance of winning…”

Winters interrupted Cage, pointing to the other ship and asking, "Why aren't they lighting their lamps?"

“To stay hidden,” Cage replied.

"But we've clearly already spotted them!"

“This…” Cage was also a bit confused. He looked at the approaching enemy fleet and his expression suddenly changed drastically: “No… no! Is there something in front of the big ship?”

From the bow came Vice Admiral Nareshaw's roar: "No time to pull the anchor! Cut the anchor cables! Order all ships to cut their anchor cables! Captains of sails, take your men to the masts! Lower all the square sails!"

Winters also noticed what the dark shape in front of the Tanirian warship was:
It was small boats and sampans, a lot of small boats and sampans.

When they are far away, the projections of these small boats overlap with the projections of the large ships, and they can only be seen clearly when they are close by.

The large ship in the middle of the Taniri fleet suddenly lowered its sails, but six ships on each of the two flanks still maintained their speed.

"Fire the signal cannon to notify the port! Let the Caravel sailboat pass..." Lieutenant General Nareshaw's tone was urgent, his usual calm and collected demeanor gone.

On the northwest sea, a spark lit up the water, followed by a massive burst of flames across the entire surface. Small boats and sampans, laden with asphalt, firewood, and straw, and hastily fitted with masts and sails, were engulfed in flames. The once pitch-black sea was now ablaze with a fiery red glow, resembling a scene from hell.

On either side of the Tanirian fleet, six large ships that had emerged from the crowd also burst into flames. These six burning ships, laden with blazing fire, along with the smaller arsonist vessels, formed a wall of fire on the sea. Propelled by the strong winds and waves, they drifted resolutely and relentlessly toward the Venetta fleet.

Taniriya's warships lowered their sails halfway and followed at a leisurely pace behind this wall of fire at sea.

"Those Tanirians are absolutely insane! They're using big ships like arson ships!" Cage roared, his face contorted with rage. "The most valuable thing at sea is a ship! A ship..."

The Glorious fired three blasts in quick succession, and the ships no longer cared about their order of action or direction.

There was no time to raise anchor; the anchor ropes were cut. The sailors scrambled up the masts, lowered all the sails, and practically tied their handkerchiefs to the sails.

The wall of fire approached menacingly, but the three light sailing ships positioned on the outer edge of the fleet not only did not give way, but instead raised their crimson flags and pressed themselves against it.

They sailed toward the right flank of the wall of fire, and the sailors, enduring the scorching heat, threw grappling hooks—originally intended for boarding operations—to the three large fire ships on the right flank.

After the iron hooks caught the hull of the fire ship, the three caravels immediately adjusted their triangular sails, attempting to pull the fire ship northward to buy time for the fleet. The iron hooks, scorching hot from the flames, first smoked and then burned through. The sailors wet the ropes with seawater and threw out more hooks. The Tanilians, of course, wouldn't stand idly by while these small boats thwarted their plans; the bow cannons of the Tanilian warships immediately opened fire on the boats.

Splinters flew from the Caravelle's sails, and cannonballs ripped deep furrows across the ship. Yet the valiant Veneta sailors gritted their teeth and fought desperately, managing to tow the three great fireships off their original course.

Lieutenant General Nareshah gripped the ship's railing tightly, staring at the sea, his hands bulging with veins.

The three large fire ships on the right flank had been towed away, but the other three large fire ships on the left flank and the small ship in the middle were still heading straight for Veneta's fleet. The escort ships had tried their best, but the huge, slow-moving fleet was still within the fire ships' course, and the distance was getting shorter and shorter, to less than a hundred meters.

The day of judgment for Veneta's vengeful fleet has arrived, and it is inevitable.

On the bow of the warship in the very center of the Taniri fleet, Captain Frank Drake gazed at the massive and majestic Glory in the distance.

He looked at the forecastle of the Glory, and he knew Nareshaw must be there.

“Mr. Nareshaw, I’ve shown you my hand. Now it’s up to you,” Drake muttered to himself.

On the deck of the Glorious, First Officer Karaman anxiously pleaded with Lieutenant Admiral Nareshaw: "General, please go to the Siren for temporary refuge, leave this to me."

Naresha's facial muscles twitched slightly as he shook his head.

"You are the fleet commander. Your duty is to command the entire fleet, not to perish with the flagship."

Nareshaw said through gritted teeth, "I didn't expect Mr. Drake to be able to assemble such a large number of fire ships. It was my mistake. Such a large number of ships could not have been collected at the last minute. He must have started preparing a long time ago... But since I dared to sit at this table, I have my own capital."

First Mate Karaman was sweating profusely: "At this point, please stop thinking about the gambling table..."

Suddenly, the thunderous sound of war drums echoed across the sea.

Naresha let out a wild laugh, like a gambler who had won thirty-six times on roulette with only one silver coin left. Pointing wildly at the southwest sea, he shouted, "My stake is up! Hahaha, my stake is up! Order the fleet to lower the sails, head west, break through the fire ships, and go straight for the enemy!"

On the southwest sea, accompanied by the deafening sound of war drums, twelve oar-powered warships rushed out of Lighthouse Harbor.

"Strike harder! Slam harder! Row harder! Let everyone know that Spyder is here!" Captain Spyder roared, drawing his sword from the bow of the Golden Lion. "Attention, all crew! Hear my command! Shout 'Long live the King!' three times!"

"Huzzah!"

"Huzzah!"

"Huzzah!"

On deck, the sailors roared in unison with the captain, each roar louder than the last.

The captains of the other oar-powered warships, upon hearing the Golden Lion's battle cry, gave the same order.

In an instant, shouts pierced the sky on the sea as twelve galley warships charged toward the flank of the Taniria fleet with astonishing momentum.

The wind was against them, but it didn't matter; the oars-powered warships weren't hoisting any sails.

The waves were also unfavorable to them, but it didn't matter, because the oars and sails of the warships had oars.

The oars on the two sides of the sailboat are like the two wings of a bird, constantly flapping and striking the water.

The first mate of the Golden Lion personally took the drumsticks and beat the war drum, which was as big as a round table, with all his might, controlling the rhythm of the rowers' paddling. The second mate and officers, holding whips, patrolled the lower decks, severely punishing any rower who dared to slack off at this time.

Three oar-powered warships broke away from the charging formation and headed toward the three large fire ships on the left flank.

As they approached the fire ship, the drumbeats of the oar-powered sailing ship changed, becoming a series of rapid drumbeats.

Upon hearing the drumbeats, the oarsmen plunged their oars below the surface and held them firmly in place. The increased drag on the oars propelled the ship, causing it to slow abruptly. When they were close enough to the fire ship, the sailors at the bow launched their grappling hooks with all their might.

Then, the drumbeats of the oarsman changed again, becoming a slow drumbeat of half a beat.

Upon hearing the drumbeat, the oarsmen began to row in the opposite direction. As the oars turned, the oared sailboat slowly moved backward, and the large fire ship was towed to one side.

The entire process was smooth and swift, leaving Winters on the Glory dumbfounded. He had never imagined that a cumbersome oars-powered warship could perform such agile and skillful maneuvers as equestrians.

Admiral Naresha also revealed his trump card.

Oar-powered warships are indeed unsuitable for long-distance expeditions, let alone for combat in rough seas. But this anchorage outside Lighthouse Harbor is precisely the place where they can truly demonstrate their capabilities.

The spies of the Federation saw galleys anchored in the harbor, with oarsmen remaining on board and sailors resting ashore. They concluded that these warships were too hastily assembled to fight and would require at least several hours to regroup.

Little did they know that the sailors were strictly separated into different camps according to their assigned warships, and no movement of personnel was allowed. In case of an emergency, they could quickly assemble and board their ships.

All of this was not only to allow the sailors to rest, but more importantly, to show the enemy weakness and catch them off guard, thus creating an opportunity for Drake to fight.

Drake believed that Nareshaw only had ten warships available. If those ten warships could be defeated, then the twelve galleys in the harbor would also be doomed.

The remaining troop transport ships are like meat on a chopping board; they can be eaten however one pleases.

These twenty-odd warships were the Venetians' last remaining assets. Once this fleet was destroyed, the inland seas would belong to the Tanilians. Without ships, the Venetians' desire to launch a transoceanic expedition would be nothing but wishful thinking.

Lieutenant General Nareshaw never believed that simply sending the army to the islands was enough. He never considered himself a transport team, and his core strategic thinking never changed, which can be summed up in one sentence: "Fleet decisive battle."

The very existence of the Tanirian fleet was a threat to the Venetians, and Naresha believed that a decisive naval battle was necessary to resolve the issue. Rather than chasing the Tanirian fleet across the seas, it was better to find a way to make them come to him.

The venomous snake has now crawled out of its nest and coiled around my arm, but I still have to kill it.

"Captain, what do we do?" Drake's first mate asked in a panic.

"What are you afraid of? Even if they have a few more galleys, our warships are no less numerous." Drake kicked a chair away. "Raise the flag! The main force of Veneta is currently being held back by the fire ships. Let's deal with these galleys first, and then we'll deal with Nareshaw!"

Drake drew his scimitar, walked to the edge of the forecastle, and roared at the sailors in disarray on deck, "What are you afraid of? We still have more ships than they do! If you're afraid now, your descendants will become slaves of the Venetians! For freedom! For gold! Tonight I'll make you more money than you could ever earn in a lifetime!"

The sailors of the "Revenge" were on the verge of collapse due to the appearance of the galley warships, but thanks to Drake's encouragement, their fighting spirit was rekindled, and they returned to their posts with red eyes and shouts.

A sailboat cannot sail head-on against the wind, but it can sail at an acute angle to the wind direction.

The wind was blowing from the northwest. The Glorious had been sailing north for some distance when, after receiving orders from Vice Admiral Naresha, the helmsman used all his strength to push the rudder in the opposite direction.

Driven by inertia, the Glorious turned ninety degrees into the wind and headed west, its bow pointing directly at Drake's flagship.

In the midst of chaos, it is difficult to transmit orders to all ships, but the actions of the Glorious are the best orders, which is the meaning of the flagship's existence.

Seeing the flagship turn and charge towards the center of the enemy formation, the other warships also turned around. No longer dodging the fire ships, they charged headlong into the sea of ​​fire towards the Tanirian fleet.

That's right, rowing sailboats can not only row backwards, but also turn around on the spot.
Thank you to all the readers who voted for this book. Thank you to Yuan Hongjian, Sansheng, writersblock, 20181013204343295, Ami, and "Recharging Time" for your votes. Thank you everyone.

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(End of this chapter)