The Landing Begins

Marin Archipelago, Peni Island.

The city of Peni, located in the northwestern part of the island, was currently under a grim and tense atmosphere. Armed rebels occupied the city, and sandbag barricades were stacked throughout the urban area.

The most fortified location was the harbor. What was once a pier welcoming merchant and passenger ships for trade and tourism was now filled with sandbag walls and machine gun emplacements. Clearly, they were preparing for an external invasion.

At the center of the city, inside the town hall, the rebel leadership had gathered. All wore grave expressions as they discussed the upcoming situation. Unsurprisingly, the conversation wasn’t going well.

“Soon, the Polia Navy fleet will reach this place. What we need most now is ammunition.”

“We’ve emptied the armory, but it’s still nowhere near enough. Most of it was used up during the last war against the Doicheun Empire, and it was never restocked.”

“Then what were you doing this whole time instead of replenishing it?!”

“…Well, we had many other expenses. And with the raised taxes that triggered this whole mess, we didn’t even have the budget.”

“Still… If this keeps up, we’ll run out of ammo in no time.”

“Can’t we buy some from abroad?”

“With what money? And how would we deal with the aftermath?”

“There won’t be an ‘after.’ If we lose, we all die.”

“The problem is, no foreign country would sell us any. They won’t want to risk diplomatic tensions with the Polia Kingdom.”

At that, everyone fell silent. Though the rebellion had started out of passionate frustration, nothing about their situation was ideal. They lacked everything. The island had no real industrial facilities. With tourism and seafood exports as its primary income sources, they had little to work with.

Everyone could envision the approaching full-scale landing by the Polian army and the battle to follow. Could they truly win against the royal forces? Or even just defend themselves?

Back during the war with the Doicheun Empire, tens of thousands of troops had been stationed here in advance, along with enormous amounts of stockpiled ammunition. That war had been thoroughly prepared for. Only because of that had they barely fended off the invasion.

Now, things were different. They lacked both trained soldiers and supplies. The rebel leaders’ faces reflected inevitable gloom. Most of them hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep since the rebellion began.

Crash! At that moment, the conference room door burst open and someone rushed in. Faces twisted in irritation until they heard the words.

“Trouble! The royal navy has arrived!”

“What!?”

“Damn it!”

“They’re really here…”

Everyone felt their hearts drop. Instinctively, they began rushing out of the room. Their destination was the terrace on the third floor of city hall. From there, they could see the sea clearly due to its elevated position.

“They’re really here. And that one—!”

“That’s the Mythos! That battleship came here?”

“Looks like no more than ten ships. Probably half are transports and the rest are warships.”

“Even with just one battleship, this place is doomed!”

“Are you surrendering already?! We must stay strong—especially now!”

“…If the bombardment starts, even this building won’t survive.”

“What’s the status of the coastal artillery?! We did reinforce it, didn’t we?”

The terrace erupted in chaos. The rebel leaders had expected this, but the sight of actual warships left them rattled. None of them were professional soldiers. Panic was inevitable, though a few tried to keep calm.

“Everyone, get a hold of yourselves! First, abandon this place—it’s an obvious target. Let’s show them our resolve! This is not why we started this rebellion!”

“Hrm… You’re right. This isn’t the time to panic.”

“Let’s move quickly. We’ll miss our window to organize a defense.”

“Fine. If we’re doing this, let’s do it right.”

With someone taking the lead, the rest slowly regained their composure. The rebellion had already begun; they could only give it their best. Still, the thought of those who might die made their hearts heavy.

The only consolation was that many civilians had already evacuated inland. Most of those remaining in the city were fighting-age men. Just as the rebels began pulling themselves together, Ian too was busy with preparations.

Bridge of the battleship Mythos.

“The 3rd Rebellion Suppression Regiment (about 1,000 to 3,000 men) will take the eastern front, and the 4th Regiment is heading to the west. The 1st and 2nd Regiments will land directly at Phero’s main harbor. They’ve requested supporting fire.”

Ian nodded in agreement as the deputy captain relayed the report. His current mission was to provide naval artillery support so the landing crafts could reach shore safely. Army officers were in charge of disembarkation, and troops were now boarding the landing craft from the transport ships.

“What’s the state of enemy defenses?”

“From our observations, it matches prior intel. The number of coastal artillery positions is severely lacking.”

“Then we just need to keep up covering fire until our landing craft reach the harbor.”

“Yes, sir. It should be a relatively simple mission.”

Ian agreed—it did seem easy. After all, the enemy likely had very few trained artillery operators. Their loading and aiming would be sloppy. Even if they had practiced, they probably hadn’t fired much due to limited ammunition.

‘Looks like we’ll land before the day’s over.’

Securing the city itself would take longer. Urban warfare was notoriously difficult, and the rebels were putting up resistance. Still, he didn’t expect it to drag on too long.

Even if they clustered together in defense, the psychological toll of constant shelling and tightening encirclement would likely break their will.

‘And if I deflect the incoming shells, we won’t even suffer a single hit.’

He’d deflected artillery plenty of times in the previous war. It was second nature now. With that, he was confident the operation would end without casualties. Still, he intended to make the dodges look close to avoid suspicion.

‘They’ll call this one a miracle ship too, won’t they?’

If Mythos earned that nickname after the cruiser did, people might start to suspect something. Still, allowing even a scratch on this ship was unacceptable. He thought to himself that he’d just need to put on a brave face when—

A report came in.

“There’s fire coming from the coastal batteries!”

“They’re shooting already?”

“Seems they’re trying to use the shell impacts to adjust their aim. Looks like there are a few who’ve actually been trained in artillery.”

They were likely soldiers who joined during the early stages of the rebellion. Of course, their numbers couldn’t be that large. Firing now was likely just to test the trajectory before aiming at the approaching landing crafts. That thought made Ian realize they needed to strike first.

“There aren’t many guns with enough range to hit us from here, are there?”

“No, sir. Approximately fifteen guns can reach this distance. The rest are mid-range types.”

“Then we should push forward and shake them up first.”

“Exactly. That would reduce the volume of fire the landing crafts face as they reach the harbor.”

Lieutenant Colonel Derian Zeco, the deputy captain, smiled. He thought it was a sound conclusion and noticed how much more experienced Ian had become. He looked at his captain and asked about moving forward.

“Shall we proceed now?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Then I’ll instruct the rest of the ships to begin evasive maneuvers and open fire on the harbor.”

At Ian’s signal, the battleship Mythos quickly became a flurry of activity. The anchor that had been lowered was raised, and the ship began to accelerate. The nearby cruisers and destroyers also started to move.

All ships began maneuvering to avoid incoming fire. Meanwhile, on the shore, the rebel artillery positions moved in a hurry. Then, the coastal guns opened fire—but prematurely. Shells were falling short, splashing into the sea several kilometers away.

Given their already limited ammunition, this was a massive waste. Clearly, these weren’t professional soldiers.

Ian remembered how, during the Doicheun colonial fleet’s attack on Beyru, the coastal batteries had fired with near-perfect precision. Compared to that, the rebels were woefully untrained.

‘So this is why professional soldiers exist.’

As Mythos neared the enemy’s artillery range, it began evasive movements, reaching a position where its own guns could return fire. Not a single enemy shell had even come close yet—Ian hadn’t needed to deflect a thing.

“Aim for the emplacements along the pier! All guns, prepare to fire!”

As Ian gave the order, the ship adjusted its angle. All turrets pointed toward the dock. Four twin-barreled 305mm main guns locked on to their targets. The deputy captain reported.

“All batteries aimed and ready.”

“Fire!”

Ian’s shout was echoed by the deputy captain. A thunderous BOOM shook the ship. Crimson flashes burst from the barrels, and the shells soared toward the harbor—then exploded.

“The shells missed their mark!”

Half of the shells fell into the sea. The others landed behind the dock, exploding there. Since the shots were fired while the ship was in motion, accuracy was expected to be low. The crew immediately began reloading.

Meanwhile, the coastal batteries kept up their own barrage. Shells were starting to fall closer to the fleet, but none had made direct hits—yet. As Mythos finished reloading, another volley of explosive force shook the ship.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

This time, the shells landed near the harbor. They didn’t hit the machine gun emplacements or dugouts yet, but it was getting closer. Then, an urgent report came in.

“Destroyer Inden has been hit!”

Hearing this, Ian grabbed his binoculars and rushed to the window. He spotted the stricken destroyer engulfed in flames. Thankfully, it hadn’t been destroyed. Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly issued an order.

“Pull Inden back to the rear.”

“Understood.”

Just as the deputy captain prepared to signal Inden, something fast approached the ship. Ian instantly recognized the feeling—an incoming shell. Realizing it would hit, he activated his psychic power.

Zzzzt— He felt the telltale surge in his head. A splash erupted right beside the ship.

“A shell just landed right next to us!”

“Emergency turn to 1 o’clock!”

At Ian’s command, the helmsman quickly turned the ship. As Mythos advanced further, its secondary guns entered range. Twelve 150mm guns were mounted on board.

“Secondary guns are in range! Ready to fire!”

“Fire all secondaries!”

At Ian’s order, the long-awaited secondary guns lit up. With that many barrels, the destructive power was immense. Shells rained down across the harbor.

Soon, the accompanying cruisers and destroyers also opened fire. With more firepower joining in, the volume of shells dramatically increased. One by one, the rebel batteries stopped firing.

Some had been destroyed; others had simply fled in panic. The psychological toll of being bombarded by ships that drew closer and closer was too great.

Meanwhile, the landing crafts carrying soldiers began speeding toward the harbor.

They fanned out as they approached, with over 10,000 soldiers onboard. The rebels, spotting the crafts, scrambled to respond.