Imperial Battleship

Amid the overall gloomy atmosphere of central Beyru, the military was operating in a state of urgency. In preparation for a possible imminent attack from the imperial navy, they were loading shells and inspecting coastal batteries to guard against a potential invading force.

In the midst of this, those pulling bizarre stunts were none other than the Seventh and Eighth Princes. As soon as they returned, they began making outrageous demands. “Throw us a party to lift our spirits.” “The command of the 8th Fleet belongs to us.” They caused all sorts of disruptions.

The peak of it was when they claimed they would board the flagship battleship of the 9th Fleet. They must have realized something during the sea battle: that the safest place on the ocean was inside a large, heavily armored battleship.

Of course, a flagship could become a concentrated target, but the princes were obsessed with the idea of boarding the battleship regardless. Naturally, Admiral Nudelria refused to entertain such absurd demands. A shouting match was inevitable.

Inside the meeting room of the Governor-General’s building.

“You want to transfer to the battleship? Then what do you plan to do with the cruisers assigned to you?”

“Well, other captains can take over and command them.”

“Exactly. And why are you angry at us right now?”

With the princes glaring at him as if to say, ‘Why are you angry at us?’ Admiral Nudelria could only feel his chest tighten. Were these princes in their right mind? Sure, if all they wanted was to board the battleship, fine. But to take over command as well? That was insanity.

The moment these princes are given command of the fleet, the colonial navy is finished! I must never allow that to happen!

“You may board the battleship and observe. But command authority is absolutely out of the question.”

“Who said we were asking for your command authority? We are requesting the command of the 8th Fleet, which has lost its commander.”

“You’re asking for the flagship battleship along with a few remaining ships? Seriously?”

“Why not just divide the fleet in a way that evens out the numbers?”

“You want to split our already diminished fleet even further? If that happens, the colonial navy will be completely useless!”

“Oh dear, why are you so angry again? It’s not like we said anything outrageous.”

“Admiral, are you saying that if we command the 8th Fleet, we’re doomed to lose? Don’t cross the line.”

These arrogant and insane princes! He was on the verge of shouting it aloud. But the fact that he couldn’t made his head throb. Why are they doing this? He thought perhaps Prince Ian might be the cause.

‘Are they jealous? Unlike them, he’s made a name for himself here…’

Over the past few days in Beyru, heroic tales had spread like wildfire. Even though it was a defeat, people naturally clung to stories of hope. Among those tales, the one about Prince Ian’s cruiser sinking an enemy warship had become widely known.

Though the truth was that sustained damage led to a lucky hit on the enemy’s ammunition depot, which caused a massive explosion, the sinking itself was indeed a fact. Admiral Nudelria had reported it truthfully, without exaggeration or downplay.

Because of that, the people idolized Prince Ian. That was probably why the two princes were so desperately trying to seize command—to achieve glory of their own. Of course, getting command didn’t guarantee such merit.

But it seemed they truly believed it would.

‘They act like this because they’ve never faced real combat. We’ve coddled them too much.’

Admiral Nudelria realized that shielding the princes might have been a mistake. During the last battle, they never once came under fire. They were in the rear, and though friendly ships protected them, the royal flag on their vessel kept enemy attacks away—they hadn’t truly experienced combat.

‘But what should I do about these half-wit princes?’

He dearly wished he could just lock them in a room somewhere, but he couldn’t. How would he persuade the two princes now glaring at him? As he was wondering, a knock came at the meeting room door.

It was Prince Ian who entered. Upon seeing him, Admiral Nudelria’s expression immediately brightened, while the faces of the two princes soured. Meanwhile, Governor Count Rolchen, who had been silently listening, beamed as he welcomed Ian.

“Oh, Prince Ian, welcome. You’re late to the meeting.”

“My apologies. I was delayed while securing something essential for the ship.”

“Haha, you do stay busy.”

“As if we’re not busy too.”

“Thinks he’s the only one working.”

Muttering as if under their breath, the two princes made even Count Rolchen and Admiral Nudelria feel awkward. How could they have such narrow minds? The contrast with Prince Ian’s demeanor was striking.

Meanwhile, Ian, noting his two older brothers’ displeasure, wondered to himself, ‘What should I do with these two?’ In truth, he’d been increasingly annoyed by their tantrums.

‘I’ve been too busy to deal with them… but now it’s time to do something.’

The reason for his recent busyness was a problem with the boiler of the steam engine on his ship, the Luda. The last battle had been intense and prolonged. Though the ship wasn’t hit, emergency operations had caused issues. Fortunately, only one of the three boilers was malfunctioning and could be repaired.

‘Luckily, we were able to cannibalize the engine from a damaged returning cruiser and install it.’

The Luda was already one of the slower cruisers of its class, and any further drop in speed had to be urgently addressed. Thinking of that, Ian asked Admiral Nudelria about the meeting’s topic. The admiral explained how the two princes were insisting on taking command of the 8th Fleet.

‘Tsk. We should be consolidating our forces under one competent command, and they want to split it? Are they insane?’

It was baffling how they clung to such nonsense. His two brothers even wore expressions that screamed ‘We’re just claiming what’s rightfully ours’. Ian wondered if they even realized how unreasonable they were. That thought quickly solidified into resolve.

‘This won’t do. I’ll have to remove them from this war altogether.’

That might sound like an overreach, but Ian absolutely had the ability to do it. He could simply arrange for an “accident” that left them injured. A serious injury would at least shut their mouths.

It was a harsh move—but a necessary one. He couldn’t let these lunatic princes worsen an already dire situation. If he were to proceed, it had to look like pure coincidence.

The meeting ended when the two princes stormed out in frustration. The next day, the Seventh Prince suffered a major accident. The car he was riding in lost its brakes while going downhill, rolled uncontrollably, and flipped over.

The Seventh Prince was seriously injured. Both arms and legs were broken, and his internal organs were damaged—recovery would take quite a while. Everyone expressed concern outwardly, but many secretly felt relieved.

Then the Eighth Prince also had an accident. Claiming that horses were safer than cars, he insisted on riding one—only to fall off when the horse suddenly panicked and bolted at high speed.

The Eighth Prince also suffered an accident, breaking both his arms and legs. Only then did people start to think that something was wrong. The accidents seemed almost as if someone had been targeting the princes, prompting an investigation.

However, neither the car nor the horse showed any signs of tampering. What was certain was that the two princes were now seriously injured and rendered completely incapable of doing anything. No one knew whether to be glad or concerned about that.

In truth, with no physical evidence, the investigation quietly fizzled out. Amidst this situation, scout ships finally confirmed that the Imperial Colonial Fleet was approaching Beyru.

In response, Admiral Nudelria led the joint fleet—hurriedly reorganized and with the battleship barely repaired—out to sea. Remaining docked at the naval base would only make them a target for bombardment, so it was better to face the enemy out at sea.

Fortunately, all the ships had now set out, and the two armored cruisers could finally operate at full capacity under proper officers.

Though the accidents were regrettable, they were undeniably a blessing for the colonial fleet. One major difference this time was that the city itself could now participate in the battle. Around fifty fighter planes had already been deployed here.

In addition, hundreds of coastal guns had been installed, their barrels aimed at the sea, ready to open fire at any moment. Meanwhile, the civilians of the city were being rushed into shelters.

As these preparations were completed, what finally came into view was the sight of the Doicheun Empire’s colonial fleet approaching, trailing black smoke into the sky. The sheer sight of it struck fear into everyone. It looked majestic, as if a demon king’s army was marching across the sea.

‘So the plan is to just hold them off, huh.’

The strategy was to position the ships along the coastal waters and fight with the support of the city. The deployed biplane fighters were already circling overhead, ready to engage the enemy. In truth, such flights were near-suicidal.

‘They’ll probably be used just to obstruct vision, nothing more.’

Given the aircraft’s limited performance and maneuverability, that was all they were good for. As we moved out to sea as well, we began preparing for battle. The command of the bridge still rested with Deputy Captain Derian Zeco.

The last war showed just how excellent his ship-commanding skills were.

Ian trusted him not because of his title, but because he had proven his capabilities. Meanwhile, Ian’s own role, once again, was to ensure the ship wasn’t hit by enemy shells.

Some crew members were even calling their vessel a miracle ship. After all, it had returned unscathed from that massive naval battle, avoiding every shell. Naturally, everyone was hoping for another miracle this time.

Then suddenly, a blinking signal delivered a surprising message.

“It seems the Imperial fleet is requesting a meeting.”

“A meeting?”

“Yes. I believe they intend to suggest surrender.”

“Even knowing we won’t surrender?”

“They’re just showing off their confidence, I suppose.”

“You think the admiral will accept such a meeting?”

“Yes, I believe he will—to buy us some time if nothing else.”

As the deputy captain predicted, the meeting request was accepted. Boldly, the Doicheun Empire invited them aboard the flagship of their colonial fleet. Normally, sending a commander into enemy territory was unthinkable. But this world operated under monarchy.

Honor and dignity were sacred, so no harm could befall a guest invited for negotiations.

Thus, Admiral Nudelria asked Ian to accompany him. Perhaps he thought it would reflect well to have a royal prince present. Ian did wonder for a moment if he should go, but quickly agreed—he’d get a rare chance to see an Imperial battleship up close.

‘And if things go badly, I’ll just kill everyone on board.’

The Doicheun Empire likely had no idea they were inviting such a dangerous presence onto their ship.

As we approached, it became clear that their battleship was definitely larger than theirs. What stood out most were the massive naval guns—four of them, mounted fore and aft, clearly visible.

So that was the Doicheun Empire’s proud Pullea-class battleship, huh?

Their own Monglia-class battleship weighed in at 20,000 tons, while that Pullea-class reportedly exceeded 30,000 tons. On top of that, it was equipped with twin-mounted 305mm-caliber main guns. It also had twelve secondary guns, each 150mm in caliber.

It was like a mobile fortress floating on water. Ian couldn’t help but feel envious. He even found himself wishing he could command such a ship. Compared to the cruiser he currently served on, the difference was overwhelming.

What would it feel like to be aboard a state-of-the-art warship like that?

In the past, Ian hadn’t felt much of anything about warships. He simply listened to Armin talk about them and thought, Oh, so that’s what those are. But now, something had sparked his curiosity in naval vessels.

Should I just hijack it and seize the ship?

That wild thought passed briefly through his mind as they finally boarded the battleship. The deck was so vast, it was overwhelming. As Ian scanned the area, he saw several figures in black uniforms.

Must be the ship’s officers. And that one—Admiral Dimitria?

Ian already knew from prior intel who commanded the Doicheun Empire’s colonial fleet.

“I am Admiral Dimitria, commander of the colonial fleet under the authority of the great Emperor of Doicheun.”

“I am Admiral Nudelria, commander of the colonial fleet under the noble King of Polia.”

As the introductions concluded, Admiral Nudelria’s gaze turned toward me. Feeling his eyes on him, Ian realized it was time to introduce himself too.