Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 368

Chapter 368: Calling the shot(2) Chapter 368: Calling the shot(2) As the room continued to evolve into a shouted match , it appeared that the High Captain of the Free Fleet finally had enough , making sure to point out his opinion by slamming his palm down onto the wooden table.

The sharp sound succeeded in making the other shut up, drawing all eyes to him.

“As Captain of the High Fleet,” he began, his voice steady but firm, “it is only proper that I too present my views on the coming war and propose strategies for our defense.

It is not my role to merely oversee these noble and respectful discussions that you are currently having but to contribute to them.

So hear me out now, before I resort to throwing the unruly ones out”  Blake glanced around, his gaze lingering briefly on each captain, ensuring their attention before continuing.

“Twenty years ago, when the Romelians last dared to challenge us, the High Captain who led this fleet-Lord Valrick Stormbound-was a man of courage and ferocity.

He was no stranger to the flames of battle, and his name inspired terror from the Northern Shores to the Eastern princes.

In the climactic battle of that war, Stormbound’s ship took down two Romelian war galleys, ramming one to splinters and boarding the other in a storm of steel and blood.

He fought to the last, refusing to yield even as defeat closed around him and our people scattered to regroup, until his soul was taken in the arms of the sea, as any true free man can aspire to end to.” Blake paused, letting the memory of the legendary captain linger in the room.

“I was too young then to stand where I stand now,” Blake admitted, his voice softer but still carrying authority.

“But I imagine that similar arguments were raised in this very chamber.

The same fiery passions, the same competing plans, the same desire to protect our way of life at all costs.

And yet, the decisions made then determined the course of that war-and our survival as free men, that we have lived for the past 21 years.” The room remained silent, the weight of his words settling heavily over the council.

Blake drew a deep breath, his voice calm but weighted with an edge of bitterness.

“My father must have been one of those voices,” he began, his tone carrying both reverence and regret.

“One of the many who argued and fought, believing they were doing what was best for our people.

Yet, as much as it pains me to say it, they all sailed toward their doom.” He straightened, looking each captain in the eye as he spoke, his words deliberate and sharp.

“As soon as word reached us of the Imperials planning an invasion, the council of that time rallied their fleets and sailed.

Not toward home, not to fortify our waters or protect our people-but out onto the open sea, far from the safety of our shores.

They took the fight to the Imperials, venturing boldly into their waters.” Blake slammed his fist down on the table, making the maps jump.

“And what was their reward for this bravery?

Defeat.

On imperial seas, they found themselves outmaneuvered, caught in a trap.

A pincer attack, no less-one fleet charging them from the front while another, hidden in the ports of those bootlicking southern princes, cut off their retreat.

They fought with courage, yes, but they were doomed the moment they left these waters.” He let the memory of the disaster hang in the air, the weight of it pressing down on the gathered captains.

“What makes you think this time will be different?” Blake’s voice rose slightly, the intensity of his words cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Are you so arrogant as to believe that where your fathers and brothers failed, you will succeed-while doing the exact same thing they did?

Do you think you can rewrite history with the same old plans that led them to ruin?” His gaze hardened as he leaned forward.

“Will you patrol every port, every cove, and every hidden inlet across the lands of those treacherous southern princes?

Will you shadow their waters day and night, ensuring the Imperials don’t lay the same trap again?

Tell me-where is this magical fleet that can be everywhere at once?” Blake straightened, his voice softening but gaining a darker edge.

“Because if you can’t answer those questions, then you’re gambling with our lives.

And I, for one, won’t bet everything on the same doomed strategy that already cost us so much.”  “And what would you have us do then, High Captain?” Waveweaver asked , his high voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a knife “If you’re so against meeting them at sea, what’s your grand strategy?” Blake met his gaze, unflinching, and stepped toward the center of the gathered captains.

“We do nothing rash,” he began, his voice steady and resolute.

“We have no reason to venture out into waters where the advantage belongs to them.

These are our seas-waters we know as well as the palms of our hands.

Every current, every shoal, every hidden inlet and island belongs to us, not them.

Let the Imperials waste their time searching for a fleet that could be anywhere, while we remain invisible.” He gestured to the maps spread across the table, his finger landing on the island of Harmway.

“But we know exactly where the Romelians will go.

They won’t sail aimlessly; they’ll head straight for Harmway.

It’s the heart they are trying to capture, the key to our waters.

They’ll come for it, certain that taking the city will be their victory.” Blake’s voice grew firmer, his words carrying the authority of command.

“So let them come.

We garrison Harmway.

We fortify the city and allow them to land safely.

Let them besiege it, and once they’re committed-once they’re on our soil, far from any port that might harbor a hidden fleet-we strike.

We’ll come at them from the sea and the land, catching them with no escape.” The captains exchanged uncertain glances, murmuring amongst themselves as Blake continued.

“If we win, they’ll be forced to retreat all the way back to their lands.

Their invasion will end in ruin, while with our faster vessel we will board those too slow to move.

And in the unfortunate case we lose…” He paused, letting the weight of the possibility settle in the air before continuing with unwavering confidence.

“We have dozens of homes across these seas to retreat to.

We can rally, reform our fleet, and strike again.

And again.

And again if we must, until we break them.The imperials may have the number, but we have our home turf and our resolve” He looked around the room, his gaze locking with each of the captains.

“This is our home.

These are our waters.

We fight on our terms-not theirs.” SaltBeard shot to his feet, his booming voice echoing off the polished walls of the cave, as he clearly was against it “We’ll be waiting till eternity itself ends before the Imperials come to us!” He swept his arm dramatically across the room, glaring at Blake with fire in his eyes.

“How do you plan to feed the crews while we sit on our arses twiddling our thumbs?

Do you know how much it takes to keep a fleet fed?

It won’t just be the Imperials that starve us-it’ll be ourselves!” A murmur of agreement rippled through the gathered captains, and soon others were chiming in with their own concerns.

“SaltBeard’s got a point,” grumbled Ironjaw, a hulking man with a face that seemed carved from stone.

“The longer we wait, the more we’ll eat into our stores.

Blackfin, a tall, lean captain leaned forward, his voice cutting through the din.

“And what if they don’t even land at Harmway, eh?

What if they hit one of the other islands first to attract us for battle?” SaltBeard pounded the table with a meaty fist, his face red with frustration.

“Aye!

We can’t just sit here like cowards!

We need to act!

Strike first, strike hard, and show the Imperials that the free men don’t wait for anyone!” The room was in uproar, voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony of objections and anger.

Blake remained silent, his eyes scanning the room, his mind working to untangle the mess of arguments being hurled his way.

“It seems, gentlemen, that many of you are under a misconception,” Balek began, his tone steady but firm.

The room began to quiet as the captains turned their attention toward him once again “You believe we must keep the fleet assembled, sitting idle in one place, waiting for the Imperials to come knocking.Consuming our supplies and having us face starvation.

That is not my plan.” He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto SaltBeard and the others who had spoken so passionately.

“We don’t need to maintain the fleet in one place.

This call was after all to discuss on what to do for the invasion plans of the empire, not to act immediatley after it.

We’ll break off, scatter.

Each ship will resupply and make short raid in close coast for food.

And when the time comes, when the moment is ripe, we’ll rally the fleet once again, this time to strike with precision and strength while the enemy is where we know it is.” A low murmur rippled through the room, a mix of curiosity and doubt.

It was Kroll who broke the silence, his calm voice as he was talking to his friend .

“Rallying the fleet will take weeks, Blake,” he said, his tone reasonable “Perhapse Harmway will fall before we come to its aid” Blake turned to Kroll, his expression resolute.

“That’s why I’ll send my ships to patrol the waters near the Imperials.

They’ll keep a close watch on their movements and send word as quickly as they can.

We won’t be caught off guard.

Of course Harmway will face a bit of a fight.

But that is the reason for which I proposed to increase the garrison, fortify the defenses, and stockpile enough food to last through months of siege if needed.As I said our strategy will be both on land and on sea” He gestured to the map spread across the stone table, his finger landing firmly on Harmway.

“When the Imperials arrive, we’ll have time.

Time to rally, time to prepare, and time to strike when we are ready-not when they dictate.

It won’t be a rushed, chaotic gamble like before.

It’ll be a coordinated, deliberate assault, where we will call to our sails as many ships as we possibly can .

If we fight on our terms, we stand a chance at breaking them.” The room was silent for a moment, the captains absorbing Blake’s words.

Some exchanged skeptical glances, while others nodded slowly, beginning to see the merit in his plan .

After all the veterans among them who had participated at Rock Bottom, knew that the reason for which they had sailed away from the isles was that their food was running out and the crews were restless to have a fight, which Lord Varlick was more than happy to give, as he himself was thirsty for the glory of a proper naval engagement.

So after putting everything into perspective, some of them realized that perhaps, what Elio’s lord was saying did actually make sense.