Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 369 Crush
As Cavill gave the order, the fleet accelerated, boarded the ship, and the shark oil drums were rolled out of the hatches. The sailors quickly unsealed, lit, and dumped them.

The scalding oil flowed along the wave line, and a thick plume of smoke rose from the sea, carrying a pungent odor towards the breakwater.

The sails vibrated under the taut cables, and the wooden hull made a low, grinding sound as it rippled through the waves.

Each boat was moving at top speed, relying on a combination of human-powered ropes and wind-driven sail adjustments.
This is the maximum speed of an old-fashioned North Sea sailing ship. It doesn't have any advanced technology, but in the hands of an old sailor, it is still as fast as a powerful gust of wind.

A series of bugle calls sounded from the deck, and the flag signals of each ship switched simultaneously.

The two auxiliary ships began to glide behind the thick smoke, forming a pincer attack formation under the cover of smoke and current.

Cavill stood atop the gangway, his hands gripping the railing, his eyes never leaving the cargo ship in the dawn.

As he loaded the magic explosive, he bent down to confirm the angle, relying solely on experience to judge the angle and wind direction, without using any instruments.

With a deep roar, white flames spewed from the cannon muzzle, and the shell cut through the smoke, hitting the forward hull of the Dawn ship.

The sound of the bombardment shook the sea surface, almost knocking people over.

But when the smoke cleared, Cavill saw that the ships were still at rest, with only a few shallow dents on their sides.

It was thick armor made of Northern oak and cold iron, with an alchemical coating on the surface to disperse impact.

"How could this be..." he muttered under his breath.

The shells had almost no effect on the enemy ships, and the Dawn's fleet didn't even flinch.

Their artillery and technology were provided by Ash Trading Company, and were actually among the world's best. Compared to Red Tide, their range was limited, and they relied solely on experience to estimate distances and adjust for wind direction.

It was sufficient to deal with ordinary merchant ships or coastal defenses, but it proved ineffective against the modified warships like the Dawn.

The gunners looked at each other in astonishment, their loading movements slowing down by half a beat.

"Keep going! Keep loading! Don't stop!" Cavill suppressed his anger and waved his hand sharply.

His heart pounded in his chest. He gripped the railing tightly, staring at the spots where he had been hit, his gaze gradually darkening.

But the shells then only left a few shallow marks on the hull of the Dawn, without even kicking up any wood chips.

It was clear that the outer layer of the ship's hull shimmered with a pale gold coating, as if it had swallowed up all the impact.

Cavill began to feel a chill creep up his spine and down to the back of his neck.

This means that even if the attack is successful, their own plan will not succeed.

For the first time, he felt a strange sense of unease, realizing that he was not the hunter, but the prey who had fallen into a trap.

The fleet of ships at dawn stood as steady as mountains, their sails tightly bound, their hulls remaining motionless in the current.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Louis stood on the command platform, his hands gripping his binoculars tightly.

With the flags fluttering beside him, he watched as his fleet was steadily arrayed, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

The Dawn ship was like a thick-walled fortress, its coating reflecting a dim light. Every shell that landed on the ship's side left only a few shallow marks.

He was very satisfied with the defensive performance of these ships, which were indeed worthy of the enormous resources he had invested in creating them, ships that were ahead of their time.

“Very good.” Louis put down his binoculars and whispered to Elliott beside him, “Fire.”

The chess player immediately raised the command flag, and the ships adjusted to a salvo firing formation.

"Boom boom boom!"

A deafening roar immediately filled their ears as the Dawn Fleet unleashed a barrage of magic-explosive bombs.

In that instant, the entire harbor was illuminated by white light, the flames like lightning tearing through the sky.

Dawn's magic bombs are small in size, but they can dive underwater and explode within seconds of impact, with the shockwave penetrating straight to the bottom of the ship.

Cavill watched helplessly as the two auxiliary ships on the left flank were hit in succession, their hulls were lifted in half, masts broke, decks fractured, and sailors were thrown into the sea by the shock.

Immediately afterwards, four more black-sailed ships were hit and caught fire, with flames leaping from the hull and tongues of fire climbing up the masts.

The explosions continued incessantly, and the entire night sea seemed to tremble.

The Dawn battleships were as steady as mountains, their salvo firing rhythm was perfectly controlled, and each salvo hit the vital points with pinpoint accuracy, with the impact points almost overlapping.

This was naturally a special marine magic explosive bomb made by Hilko. The outer shell was cast from runic iron, and the inside was filled with alchemical catalysts and magic crystal catalysts. When detonated underwater, it created a cavity effect powerful enough to tear apart the keel. Ships hit by it would capsize in less than ten breaths.

"Damn it! What is this?!" Cavill's adjutant roared, but his voice was almost swallowed up by the roar.

The pirate fleet was in complete chaos. Flames rolled across the sea on the left flank, the flames bent by the tide and whipped up by the wind.

Each salvo hit several more ships, and the light from the explosions reflected on the sea like red flowers blooming on the water.

Cavill gripped the railing tightly, his fingers turning white. His ears were ringing, and his heart was pounding in his chest.

That intense firepower and precision was something he had never seen or imagined in his decades of traveling the world.

"Push the bow to starboard and break out from the outer wing!" he commanded in a low voice, his voice trembling.

The secondary ship immediately adjusted its course, but just then, another round of magic explosive bombs landed.

The two ships were blasted in two right before Cavill's eyes, debris flying everywhere and flames whipping up water vapor.

The sounds of voices, explosions, and breaking wood mingled together, as if the entire sea was groaning.

"Break through!" Cavill roared.

He knew the battle was beyond saving.

The Dawn's firepower far exceeded expectations, and his fleet had lost its formation.

Although he still didn't know exactly where he had lost, he understood that if he didn't escape, his entire army would be wiped out.

He gritted his teeth and ordered, "All movable ships, retreat south at full speed! The rest are no longer a concern!"

The Wave Eater turned and accelerated, throwing oil from its stern into the sea to obscure its course. Thick smoke and flames blocked his view, and he no longer looked at the chaotic sea.

The remaining burning ships were left behind, their cries and explosions carried away by the wind.

But Cavill just wanted to escape, no matter the cost.

However, the fleet at Dawn Harbor did not stop.

Several light frigates broke away from the formation, their sails unfurling instantly, the wind whistling through the night fog like knives.

Louis's order was clear and calm: "Leave no survivors except for the captain."

Elliott's Dawn fleet then advanced rapidly, its advance on the front lines like a surging tide.

Each shell landed close to the wake of the Wave Eater, with plumes of water rising continuously behind the ship.

Looking back, Cavill could almost make out the glowing Red Tide emblem on the bow of the Dawn.

It was a sense of oppression, as if even the sea god seemed to be on the enemy's side.

The fleet of ships pursued at an extremely fast pace, pushing forward like a wall of steel, cutting the waves into a straight line.

Cavill was in a state of confusion. He finally realized that Dawn's combat strength was beyond his comprehension; it was a gap that could not be bridged by numbers and firepower.

But things have come to this point, and only the last resort remains.

Chaos erupted on the deck, and the pirates instinctively sensed that something was wrong.

Some shouted to abandon ship, some jumped into the sea, and others frantically shook the cannons, trying to launch another counterattack.

Cavill gathered his emotions, then threw his head back and laughed, his voice hoarse: "Let's all perish together! Let them sink into the sea with us!"

His voice was like torn sheet metal, crashing wildly in the firelight.

Several adjutants looked at him, their faces pale. They all understood that the mad king had gone mad again.

"Ignite the fuel tanks in the bilge!" he roared, grabbing a torch and smashing it to the ground. Oil splattered everywhere, and flames immediately shot up.

Several pirates frantically tried to put out the fire, but he drew his sword and shouted, "Those who want to leave, get out of here!"

The ship began to shake violently, and the fire spread rapidly, illuminating every desperate face.

Just when everyone thought the Mad King was going to perish with them, his eyes suddenly regained their composure.

Cavill whispered to his two trusted men, "Go to the stern and prepare the small boat."

His tone was as calm as if he were issuing a routine navigation order.

Taking advantage of the chaos before the explosion, he and his confidant quietly slid to the stern and launched the small boat that had been prepared beforehand.

The flames in the hold had reached the bent wooden beams, and the sound of wood cracking could be heard from the deck.

He took one last look at the burning deck, the screams, curses, and flames—a nightmare he had orchestrated himself.

"Full speed, escape north with the current," he commanded, reverting to his calm and collected demeanor. The small boat drifted away from the battlefield with the undercurrent, the sound of its oars almost drowned out by the echoes of the explosions.

The Wave Eater exploded behind them with a deafening roar, the entire ship was torn in two, and flames soared into the sky.

The few sailors who escaped struggled on the sea surface, only to be swept into the inferno by the shockwave.

Cavill didn't turn back; he knew he had lost, utterly and completely.

Even he himself didn't know whether he lost because of strategy, tactics, firepower, or because of the young lord he had never met before.

"Avoid that line of fire, full speed ahead!" he whispered to his trusted helmsman at the helm.

The small boat bobbed in the waves, finally leaving behind the flames of the war zone.

Almost the instant he thought he had escaped, a metal net was thrown from the side and firmly caught the small boat.

His trusted aide was caught in the internet cable and fell overboard before he could even react, and was thrown into the sea.

He choked on two mouthfuls of salty water and struggled to lift his head.

Several Crimson Tide Knights were already looking down at him from the deck, their spears gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

The sea returned to calm.

Only wreckage and charred wood chips floated on the sea, and the smell of fuel still lingered in the night air.

Of the thirty-seven black sails, twenty-three have been reduced to ashes, and the remaining few have either sunk or broken, leaving only their masts swaying in the waves.

The ships at dawn were lined up in neat rows, their firelight illuminating the sea.

Louis stood on the deck, looking down at the pirate king being dragged onto it.

The man had disheveled hair, his metal prosthetic jaw was glowing red from the heat, and his eyes were filled with ash and bloodshot veins.

"Spare me...I surrender...please..."

He lay on the deck, his throat gurgling out pleas for mercy, broken, hoarse, and tearful, unable to even finish a sentence.

Louis did not speak immediately, but simply watched him quietly.

Cavill quietly raised his head and finally saw him clearly. The young count was tall and straight, his black hair was blown by the wind, and his cloak was still covered with the ash of gunpowder.

There was no anger on the young face; the firelight reflected in his eyes like an unfathomable mirror.

His heart skipped a beat, and the name he'd heard in the rumors flashed through his mind: "Count Red Tide... Louis..."

At that moment, he realized that he was not facing an ordinary lord, but a raider who only appeared in the eye of the storm, only disguised as a nobleman.

Suddenly Louis smiled slightly, a smile that was cold and tinged with a hint of mischief.

He leaned down, his tone as calm as if he were casually gossiping: "I know your wife and daughters are in Port Seril in the Emerald Federation."

Cavill froze abruptly, first stunned, then breathing heavily, the color draining from his face.

He looked up, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints, his voice hoarse and almost broken: "You...how could you know..."

Louis didn't answer, only a playful smile on his lips. In truth, this information was of little use to him.

After all, he couldn't possibly go to the Emerald Federation to kidnap his wife and daughters; it was just a little mischievous of his that he wanted to see how the Pirate King would react.

Cavill's hands trembled as he tried to support himself but was too weak. For the first time, genuine fear and panic appeared on his once cold and manic face.

"do not move!"

He wanted to pounce and roar like a beast, but two Dawn Knights had already pinned him down on the shoulders, their steel boots grinding against his body, and their blades pressed against his neck.

"Please... let them go..."

Cavill struggled to scream, but his voice was immediately suppressed, and his pleas for mercy were broken into broken gasps, which were eventually blown away by the night wind.

Louis just smiled slightly, "Take him away. Dig up all his treasure locations, leave no one alive."

Cavill's pupils contracted sharply, and he trembled as if his last line of defense had been stripped away.

Louis looked away, turned around, and ignored him.

The knights dragged the Mad King away, their boots crunching over the bloodstains on the deck.

Cavill's struggles grew weaker and weaker, and the light in his eyes went out completely, like a extinguished spark.

Within a few steps, Dawn's makeshift cage was set up, and iron stakes secured the captured pirates.

Several knights carried Cavill into a makeshift interrogation chamber.

Cavill sat in his chair, still cunning. The miserable scene he had just witnessed was merely an act; he had long since prioritized the safety of his family over his own.

And he knew that the Lord of Dawn would not kill him easily, at least not for the time being.

As long as you can pinpoint the key treasure coordinates, you can still save your life.

He glanced around, his mind racing, figuring out how to stall for time and find a way to escape if he could.

But he soon discovered that this interrogation was different from any he had seen before.

The knights had neither whips nor fire tongs; the tools they displayed sent a chill down his spine.

"Keep his mouth shut and don't let him yell," Elliott ordered calmly.

The fog canister was lit, and pale white smoke enveloped his mouth and nose through the mask.

Cavill frowned; the bittersweet taste made him instinctively uneasy. He wanted to beg for mercy, but could only manage a low, hoarse whisper.

Another knight took out a slender syringe, which gleamed silver and reflected a cold light under the lamp.

"What is that?" he asked hoarsely, a hint of unease in his voice.

No one answered.

The needle went into his arm, and he felt almost no pain.

A chill followed, creeping up the side of the neck from the blood vessels.

A few seconds later, his heartbeat became erratic, and he could hear his breathing becoming heavy.

A faint light appeared at the edge of my vision, like a shadow floating in the mist.

Cavill tried to hold back, telling himself it was just a scare tactic, but his body reacted faster than his mind.

Fragments of memory began to surface, my mind felt like it was being torn apart, light and sound intertwined.

He heard the bells of his hometown port, saw the shadow of his wife carrying a lantern, and saw the reefs of the Ice Abyss Islands and the outlines of those hidden chests.

"Speak." His mask was removed.

Cavill gritted his teeth, trying to steady his breathing and forcing himself not to speak.

“At… North Reef No. 3…” But the words escaped his throat on their own.

He abruptly shut his mouth, bit his tongue, and the taste of blood filled the air.

But his tongue was no longer under control. Every time the syringe touched it again, his voice would flow out on its own. The coldness was like an invisible thread, pulling his memories outward.

“East Reef, White Bay…dark hold, second floor…” His eyes were filled with terror, and sweat streamed down his face.

"Stop! Stop!" he screamed, his voice broken, but he couldn't stop.

The knights simply memorized each coordinate, occasionally exchanging glances.

As the liquid was injected, his thoughts were torn into countless pieces.

When his last bit of resistance crumbled, he slumped into the chair, his eyes glazed over, unconsciously muttering, "The barrel... the bottom of the second barrel..."

Elliot glanced at the logbook, signaling the end of the session. The alchemist put away his tools, the mist jar was extinguished, and the air gradually cleared.

“This thing… is truly a work of genius,” a knight exclaimed.

Cavill's body trembled slightly, his eyes were vacant, and his lips were still twitching.

He was no longer cunning, nor was he insane; only silent fear remained.

He knew he had given everything away, but he couldn't even remember why he had said it.

The night wind outside carried the smell of ashes, and wreckage floated on the sea.

The knights set off in batches to excavate the coordinates, while Louis watched quietly from the deck, saying nothing.

(End of this chapter)