Munitions Empire

That was a warship designed largely based on the Bavarian-class battleships, designed by Tang Country designers, so the performance was well understood by the Tang side.

At this moment, this behemoth with a full load displacement of nearly 40,000 tons was turning, with even more warships moving in the distance.

"Two torpedoes! Aim at the target! Adjust the bow!" Having spotted the distant warship through the periscope, the submarine captain excitedly began issuing attack orders.

Due to the great distance, they had to launch the torpedoes early, calculating angles accurately to hit the target.

As for closing the distance, it was actually impossible; if the submarine tried to get closer, it couldn't approach the target directly, because even a single periscope tube during the day at sea could easily be spotted.

If they navigated submerged and surfaced closer to the target, it would be extremely dangerous for the submarine itself: if there was a warship passing by where they surfaced, a collision would occur, and it was obvious that the submarine would be at a disadvantage.

Even with imprecise sonar to judge the positions of other warships, such action was very risky: too many propellers, too many warships, the sonar could not precisely locate each target.

Thus, firing torpedoes secretly from a safe distance was a wise method: facing such a dense formation of warships, the torpedoes were bound to strike a target.

All they needed to do was release all their torpedoes and wait for these torpedoes to hit their targets.

"Torpedo No. 1 ready!" the officer in charge of launching the torpedoes shouted loudly, looking at the pressure gauge, and after a two-second pause, he confirmed the status of the second torpedo: "Torpedo No. 2 ready!"

"Aiming angle calculation complete! The bow is aligned with the attack route!" Seeing the mechanical computer accurately calculate the launch angle, the adjunct shouted loudly.

"Fire!" The captain yelled, and following his shout, the torpedo launching officer pressed the launch button, injected seawater into the torpedo tubes, and powered the torpedoes inside.

The submarine's forward torpedo tube hatch slowly opened, expelling the remaining bubbles, which floated towards the surface.

Then, the energized torpedoes were pushed out of the torpedo tubes by compressed air, their propellers churning the murky seawater, rapidly advancing straight ahead.

Right after, the second torpedo tube opened, and amidst the bubbling, the second torpedo also surged toward the distance with a trail.

"Torpedoes No. 1 and No. 2 launched!" the torpedo launch officer reported loudly in the command capsule.

"Adjust course! Aim at a new target! The enemy's speed is the same; they are turning! Correct attack direction… two degrees! Calculate the attack angle!" the captain ordered the adjunct.

"Adjust, left rudder two degrees!" The helmsman, beside him, immediately began turning his wheel, starting to correct the direction of his submarine.

"Launch torpedoes!" the captain decisively gave the order to attack once more.

Already waiting for this command, the torpedo launch officer repeated the captain's order and then resolutely launched torpedoes three and four.

They did not intend to miss such an opportunity to attack; so long as they could launch enough torpedoes in a brief period, they were sure to achieve significant results.

Amidst the bustle, the submarine once again adjusted its course and launched two more torpedoes at the distant massive joint fleet.

These were their last two bow torpedoes; if they wanted to launch torpedoes at the fastest speed again, they would have to turn the submarine around and use the stern torpedo tubes to launch two more torpedoes.

"Turn! Turn!" the submarine captain did just that, hoping to use the time it took for the submarine to turn to reload the bow torpedoes, then after launching the stern torpedoes, use the bow torpedoes for a new round of attacks.

"Turn! Hard left rudder!" the helmsman, exhilarated, manipulated his wheel, and the submarine's rudder quickly veered to one side, the whole submarine turning rapidly in the calm water below.

"Let's hope they hit the target!" the sailors, wiping down the spare torpedoes, issued their most heartfelt prayers.

At a distance, on the masts where the lookouts stood shivering with cold, their mouths puffing out puffs of white mist—this was the northern sea domain of the Mirage Country, where low temperatures were always the prevailing theme.

Had it not been for the lack of popular shipping routes, they would not have hidden here to evade the Tang Country's secret weapon submarines, wasting several months of time.

On the Invincible No. 2 battleship, sailors grumbled about the months spent drifting at sea, cursing those damned naval commanders.

They periodically received supplies at sea and refueled in small ports, the whole process meticulously cautious, much like squirrels.

Such a massive fleet should have been invincible, advancing into the enemy's harbor to destroy their fleet. But since the start of the war, they hadn't even had the courage to head south for a look.

"Damn it, when will this ever end?" a sailor said, hands clasped together as he jumped and cursed, "Those officers are in the cabin drinking every day, making us stand out here in the wind!"

The companion standing next to him had a nose red from the cold and, emitting a white breath for comfort, said, "I heard they're talking about peace. I think we'll be going home soon."

Everyone had a basic judgment about this war; many things had become meaningless, and it was time for it to end.

Maintaining such a large fleet wasn't cheap, and since it had been of little use, shouldn't it be disbanded?

The war was lost, and the previous plan to strangle the Tang Country's maritime transport line had completely failed. What was the use in continuing to persist?

"Hope it ends soon, this godforsaken place! I don't want to stay here another minute!" complained a lookout with crossed arms, who then spotted a strange white streak in the sea.

Honestly, he had never seen what a torpedo looked like, but he had heard descriptions and knew a straight white line couldn't naturally form in the sea.

"Hey, look at that white line over there! What's happening?" he said, grabbing the binoculars hanging on his chest and alerting his companion.

The sailor with the freezing red nose quickly grabbed his own binoculars, looking in the direction his mate had pointed out.

Through his lens, he saw the white trail approaching their location at high speed.

While he was stunned, the sailor who had first spotted the white trail had already grabbed the phone on the lookout post, yelling to the duty officer on the bridge irrespective of anything else, "Starboard! Starboard! A white trail spotted! Rapidly heading toward our ship! Rapidly heading toward our ship!"

As the duty officer had just picked up the receiver, he kept hearing shouts of "Starboard, starboard," and looking through the porthole, he saw the white trail, which nature could not account for, speeding toward his location.

In fact, they'd been receiving various messages about "submarines" all along, although they had never actually seen one, they studied them every day.

The crew was no stranger to torpedoes, having heard countless times about powerful white trails.

Thus, the moment he saw it, he knew it was a torpedo, almost as a reflex.

But knowing was one thing, and solving it was another. Until now, there was little success in evading torpedoes, and how to dodge them was still anyone's guess.

Those captains who could decide upon a glance whether to reverse or turn the helm left or right to avoid a torpedo all needed relevant experience and learning.

But now, expecting this duty officer to figure out how to dodge this torpedo just by looking at it once... It seemed beyond his abilities.

Lacking the skill, he could only close his eyes and try, so he clenched his teeth and loudly commanded, "Full left rudder! Fast! Full left rudder!"

Since their warship was already turning left, now going full left rudder to increase the turning radius seemed like a prioritized evasion choice.

"Full left rudder!" Along with his command, the helmsman quickly spun the huge steering wheel, loudly repeating the order.

"Signal the cruiser ahead! Have them scan the sea! Quickly!" the duty officer urgently ordered, "Sound the battle alarm! Call the captain's quarters! Ask the captain to come to the bridge immediately!"

He spoke very fast, clearly very anxious. The next second, the entire warship's battle alarm rang out, and simultaneously, the warship began to turn rapidly.

With the undulating waves, the warship, looking like a giant sea island, began to turn faster, much more agile than it appeared.

The warship's bow smashed through the waves ahead, engulfing the four huge cannons on the deck with breaking waves, then bursting out from these splashes, displaying the vigor of steel.

"Rear! There's another trail in the rear!" shouted an officer who had been observing the sea, panic in his voice.

Hearing the shout, the duty officer immediately walked to the side, looking through the porthole toward the rear of the ship.

Indeed, he also saw the white trail, but it appeared the second torpedo at the rear couldn't hit them.

He couldn't help feeling relieved, believing it was because of his command to turn that his warship had avoided the second torpedo!

Putting down the binoculars, he immediately added an order, "Immediately signal the Indomitable No.1 Battleship in the rear! Warn them to watch out for submarines! Watch the sea!"

After a few seconds of silence, he continued shouting, "Also! Send a telegram to all the warships, we've encountered a submarine attack! Watch the sea!"