Murica First Fleet
Under the moonlight, the First Fleet buzzed with activity.
MH-60 Seahawks lifted off from the HMS Bahamut, rotors slicing the air as they carried Navy SEALs toward their objectives. Below, other SEALs boarded RHIBs, engines humming quietly as they slipped into the dark water.
Captain Cetus watched the operation unfold, his expression tight.
No one was smiling now.
"Sir," an officer reported, "SEAL Teams One through Eight have disembarked. Estimated time of arrival is zero one hundred hours."
"Alright."
The officer hesitated.
"…Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
"Some of the men say they hear… crying. From the admiral's quarters."
Captain Cetus looked away from the deck.
"…Can you blame her, Lieutenant?"
"…No, sir."
---
Vandorian Fleet — Dawn
TING.
TING TING TING TING TING TING TING TING.
Morning broke with the violent ringing of emergency bells.
Admiral Lorenzo rushed onto the deck in his nightclothes as sailors and battle mages scrambled in every direction.
"Is it the enemy?" he demanded.
"No, sir… we don't see any enemies."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Our ships, sir…" the officer swallowed. "They're gone."
"…What do you mean, gone?"
"All of our frigates are missing," the terrified captain said. "They just vanished…"
Lorenzo stepped forward and stared out at the sea.
The fleet had shrunk.
Only the men-of-war remained.
Avian lookouts circled overhead, scanning desperately.
Hours later, the shaken admiral ordered his remaining ships into tight formation while awaiting orders from the capital.
The king and his advisors responded quickly.
Continue the operation.
Only the frigates are missing.
You still hold naval superiority.
TING.
TING TING TING TING TING TING.
The lookout bells rang again.
All eyes turned upward.
"BOWSIDE! ENEMY SHIP!" the lookout shouted.
Lorenzo raised his enchanted telescope.
Decades at sea allowed him to judge distance and size in seconds.
"No way…" he muttered. "Stripes and pentagrams flag…"
His blood ran cold.
"Demons have a navy now? And those ships… they're enormous." He muttered.
"They're made of iron, sir," the ship captain reported urgently. "No sails. Just like the Dwarven ships—only… I don't see any smoke."
"Sound battle stations." Lorenzo ordered.
"AYE, SIR! BATTLE STATIONS! ALL SHIPS, BATTLE STATIONS!" The captain roared
"INCOMING! HELL DRAGONFLIES! FOUR OF THEM!" The ship lookout screamed
"Ready the ballista!" the captain shouted.
Chaos erupted as sailors and mages rushed to the magic ballista mounted at the bow. Gunners tracked the approaching shapes, while artillery mages prepared to imbue explosive spells.
Two AH-1Z Viper attack helicopters and two UH-1Y Venom helicopters advanced—
—and stopped just outside ballista range.
The two Venom helicopters had massive speakers bolted to their sides.
Then—
SCREEEEEECH.
"AAAAH! THE DEMONS ARE USING SOUND ATTACK!"
"BALLISTAS!" the captain screamed. "SHOOT THEM DOWN!"
"I CAN'T, SIR! THEY'RE OUT OF RANGE!"
The screeching stopped.
TAP. TAP.
"AAAAH, testing one two. Testing one two."
A cheerful female voice followed from the speakers.
"Ah—sorry about that. Ehm, this is the United Demon Kingdom of Murica Navy," Rusalka announced brightly. "You are trespassing in Murica territory!"
Confusion rippled across the Vandorian deck.
"Vandorian fleet! Cease all movements and surrender! I repeat, cease all movements and surrender, or we will use force! You have one hour to comply. Please raise any white flags to signal your surrender!"
The admiral and the captain could only stare at each other.
"Oh, who am I kidding?" Rusalka sighed audibly. "Of course you won't surrender just like that."
Her tone sharpened.
"Listen, assholes. Your invading army was already wiped out by us yesterday. And based on that battle, we already know your war capabilities."
"Our army?" one officer whispered. "Is that why we couldn't contact them?"
"Oh, and believe me," Rusalka continued cheerfully, "we're way out of your league."
She paused.
"By the way, are you missing some ships? Please look to your port side."
The fleet turned.
On the horizon, their missing ships appeared—fourty wooden frigates are being towed by four Murican destroyers, lined up neatly like ducklings behind four very angry metal mothers.
"Cute, isn't it?" Rusalka laughed. "They were really easy for us to hijack—err, commandeer."
A beat.
"But you probably still don't get it, so here's a little presentation."
"Now, we're going to destroy one of your biggest ships. Mm… eeny, meeny, miny, moe…"
Her voice brightened.
"Ah! That one in the rear!"
"Sir," an officer said shakily, "they're talking about the Conqueror."
"Now do you see our leftmost ship?" Rusalka continued. "It's called a destroyer. Please watch closely."
WHOOOSH.
A missile streaked skyward from the leftmost Murican destroyer.
"The thing flying toward you is called a Tomahawk missile," Rusalka explained pleasantly. "It hits anything within two thousand five hundred kilometers."
"INCOMING ATTACK!" Vandorian sailors screamed. "DEFENSIVE POSITIONS!"
Cannons swiveled. Mages raised barriers. Wind spells roared as the ship tried desperately to maneuver.
KABOOOOMMM.
The Conqueror vanished in a blinding fireball.
Its magic shield failed instantly. Shockwaves tore sails from nearby ships. No Conqueror crew survived the blast.
"SIR! THE CONQUEROR IS GONE!"
"Oh, I'm sorry," Rusalka mocked lightly. "Did you try to do something?"
She chuckled.
"Oh no, no, no. Our missiles are very fast, very accurate, and very destructive. And anyway—we brought hundreds."
"…How can they do that?" the admiral whispered, hands shaking. "They're miles away from us…"
"And now, one more demonstration," Rusalka continued cheerfully. "Please look at our rightmost helicopter—uh, its the flying thingy you guys call hell dragonflies."
She cleared her throat.
"It's going to go whoosh… and then another ship goes boom."
The Viper fired.
Two AGM-114 Hellfire missiles streaked toward the foremost 124-gun ship.
The ship's mages reacted instantly, erecting a shimmering magic shield. The first missile smashed straight through it, tearing the barrier apart and clearing the way for the second.
KABOOOM.
KABOOOOM.
The 124-gun ship split open with a fireball and began to sink.
"THE GLORY IS SINKING!" the lookout screamed.
"Yep," Rusalka added casually, "we have so many ways to sink your ships."
Survivors screamed as they clung to floating debris—
Until black shapes moved beneath the water.
"T-There's something down there!" one survivor cried.
"Oh!" Rusalka said excitedly. "Did you know that all waters in Demon Territory are heavily infested with dangerous creatures? Especially demon sharks."
The sea churned as a pack of demon sharks surfaced and attacked.
They were twice the size of normal sharks—jet black, with six eyes and three dorsal fins.
"GYAAAA! HELP ME! AAAARGH!"
"Aww," Rusalka cooed. "Poor sailors leaving all their kids behind just to become shark snacks. Sorry, kids. Daddy won't be home tonight. Sniff sniff."
The Vandorians threw ropes desperately, but the demon sharks were too fast.
Within minutes, the screaming stopped as the water turned red.
"Welp," Rusalka said brightly, "that's the end of the presentation."
Her tone hardened.
"Okay, assholes—surrender now and save your men. We promise not to kill you. You have one hour."
The helicopters turned away, rotors fading into the distance.
The Vandorian fleet stood frozen.
Anger and disbelief consumed the admiral.
"T-this…" he whispered. "This humiliation."
---
Moments Later
Vandorian Fleet
Inside the dimly lit war room, Admiral Lorenzo listened in silence as his captains used the precious one-hour limit to argue their best course of action.
"Their attack is powerful," one captain said. "That much is undeniably true."
"But we can't take everything they said at face value," another countered. "There must be lies mixed in."
"We still outnumber them," a third insisted. "Forty ships against their eleven—no, seven now, since four of theirs are towing away our frigates somewhere."
"Maybe it's a bluff," someone whispered. "What if their claim about having hundreds of those 'Tomahawaks' is a lie?"
"That would explain why they sabotaged our frigates instead of destroying them outright."
"But then why hijack them at all?"
The questions circled endlessly, each answer breeding two more doubts.
At last, Admiral Lorenzo rose to his feet.
The room fell silent immediately.
His gaze swept across the assembled officers—men hardened by years at sea, now arguing like scholars trying to disprove an unpleasant theorem.
"Gentlemen," Lorenzo said calmly, "this war is no longer about conquering the demons."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"Today, we learned something far more terrifying."
He placed both hands on the table.
"They have ships. Ships capable of crossing oceans. Ships capable of invading any coast on our continent."
A quiet breath escaped him.
"And we practically invited them… by starting this war."
A heavy silence followed. Every captain understood the implication.
Their kingdom's arrogance had not merely stirred a hornet's nest.
They had discovered the nest could sail.
"But our duty remains," Lorenzo continued. "We stop any threat approaching our shores. Therefore, we stop their navy here."
The captains straightened, backs stiffening as discipline reclaimed them.
"I am placing my bet on Captain Kaca's theory," Lorenzo said. "That their entire display was an elaborate bluff."
He looked around the table.
"Demons have never been merciful. If they could annihilate us, they would have done so already."
"So…" a captain asked carefully, "we're calling their bluff?"
"Yes," Lorenzo replied. "We use our numbers and charge in loose formation. They cannot repeat their nighttime sneak attack in broad daylight."
"But sir," another interjected, "the distance between us is still too great—and their weapon range far outstrips ours."
"That is why we need to close the distance fast," Lorenzo said without hesitation. "All mages assigned to shields will be reassigned to sail duty."
Several captains stiffened.
"They will cast wind continuously," Lorenzo continued, "and drive the ships as fast as possible—even if it risks breaking the mast."
"Sir…" one captain said slowly, "we will be entering battle without any magical protection."
"Speed is our only chance," Lorenzo replied. "And our mages' shields—"
He exhaled, bitter and controlled.
"—are worthless against their firepower."
He looked each officer in the eye, one by one.
"I will not lie to you. Many of us—perhaps all of us—may die."
No one spoke.
"But if we can destroy even some of their ships," he continued, "we buy our kingdom a better chance in the future."
Admiral Lorenzo—cautious, experienced, beloved—only spoke of death when no other option remained.
That was enough.
The captains rose and saluted him as one.
"Admiral! It was an honor to serve under you!"
"The honor is mine," Lorenzo replied.