Blackstone Code-Chapter 386: For the Federation!

Torpedoes have always faced many problems in actual combat. If a torpedo is too large, its water resistance increases, and buoyancy requirements rise, making the design of heavy torpedoes very difficult.

They need an automatic pressure-regulating high-pressure chamber to maintain buoyancy and an independent thermodynamic chamber to sustain propulsion—both major design challenges.

Smaller torpedoes with altered shapes can move quickly and steadily underwater but cause limited damage.

A 40-pound torpedo might damage warships and typically causes breaches below the waterline, but all nations have countermeasures, such as compartmentalized hull sections. If one section is breached, it is quickly sealed to prevent flooding.

Sealing changes the ship’s draft and speed slightly, as the breach causes turbulence and slows the ship, but no further major effects occur.

Increasing torpedo power brings complex problems. In actual naval battles, close-range torpedo launches are rare, so most countries focus development on artillery.

However, this time they faced improved torpedoes—with more explosives, better design, and more accurate guidance—that posed a serious threat.

Gephra immediately adjusted their battle formation, prioritizing destroying the Federation’s charging destroyer squads. If their torpedoes could sink battleships, letting them approach would be a huge mistake.

Gephra’s pride often made them arrogant, but when cautious, they became extremely careful.

This gave the Federation Navy a moment to regroup and respond to the complex battle.

At that moment, submarines, unseen like ghosts, reached positions near Gephra’s lines.

The first submarine launched two torpedoes at the Guardian Knight battleship.

These improved torpedoes had inclinometers on the nose and tail to continuously adjust their angle, with internal mechanisms shifting the center of gravity for course correction.

They also intermittently released air bubbles from a small hole at the front, boosting speed and stability.

Underwater torpedo launches are very stealthy; only when the torpedoes neared the Guardian Knight did they surface. Observers immediately sounded the alarm, but it was too late.

Massive water columns erupted, followed by a second blast. These new torpedoes, with twice the explosive power of standard ones, made a decisive impact.

The explosion’s shockwave pushed the Guardian Knight’s hull sideways by over ten meters, causing a noticeable tilt.

One torpedo struck the left mid-front side; flooding instantly shut down the engines. The breach was large, flooding rushed in fast, and sealed bulkheads failed to close within a minute.

The damage caused panic among the Gephra forces, followed by sudden deaths.

The submarines, armed with upgraded torpedoes, showed incredible effectiveness on their first use.

Military observers, initially stunned, quickly grew excited. The once invincible Gephra Royal Navy had been defeated by submarines and torpedoes.

If they still didn’t understand why the Federation deployed submarines—often seen only in coastal or river operations—to suppress pirates, they were foolish.

Though some countries struggled to match Gephra’s battleship power, they could emulate the Federation by using submarines and torpedoes as offensive weapons.

Torpedoes causing serious damage to battleships meant battleships were no longer invincible at sea.

Until now, only battleships could defeat battleships, but this marked a revolutionary change.

Ghost-like submarines attacked unprepared ships, which often didn’t know why they were under attack, even when enemies were still far away.

But the war didn’t pause for their injuries. Gephra ships slowed or stopped due to engine failure, becoming easy targets.

Federation soldiers might not be skilled at hitting moving targets, but their training in stationary target practice was excellent.

With little scatter, the next salvo was precise, hitting four enemy ships consecutively. After multiple shells struck the trapped Guardian Knight, Gephra raised the white flag.

They surrendered.

There was no need to lose most of their main fleet in a trial battle meant only to showcase naval power.

Though badly damaged, the ships could be repaired and returned to service.

Federation soldiers cheered, having won unexpectedly, though Gephra’s strength remained undeniable.

Without submarines and new torpedoes, the Federation Navy might have had to retreat, clearly outmatched in direct combat.

But they won, and they celebrated.

Yet the Federation fleet commander showed little joy, pondering a critical question.

Everyone in the command room awaited his decision—to continue fighting or let Gephra’s navy go.

He hesitated. This battle confirmed the clear strength gap in direct combat.

Submarines and torpedoes changed the outcome and secured victory—but what about next time?

The exposure of submarines and torpedoes would surely draw global attention, shifting focus to anti-submarine research.

Once effective anti-submarine measures exist, submarines’ role in direct naval battles would diminish. What then?

Would they fight Gephra by taking shells to the face?

So after Gephra’s white flag rose, the commander didn’t immediately lift the state of war; soldiers remained at their posts as he weighed options.

At the same time, he knew that destroying this fleet now would be a fatal blow to Gephra.

Losing a main fleet would force Gephra to station another fleet permanently near home for defense, severely limiting their naval freedom and global influence.

Rebuilding a new main fleet would take six to eight years—an irresistible strategic opportunity.

The commander looked at the officers and generals, pursed his lips, and said, “I am a sinner. Today, all orders came from me personally. When we return, I will accept the military tribunal’s judgment.”

Without waiting for a response, he walked to the command platform and ordered the operator, “Notify all ships: continue the attack. We must annihilate these pirates here!”

Meanwhile, Gephra was dispatching lifeboats to rescue survivors drifting in the water—their most precious resource.

Each of them was battle-hardened, with combat experience and psychological resilience few could match.

Damaged warships could be repaired, but the loss of these sailors was the greatest blow—training qualified sailors during peacetime was extremely difficult.

At this moment, the Gephra commander was reviewing the battle’s gains and losses. He remained composed, hiding any anger, fear, unease, or hatred.

As he spoke of personally apologizing to His Majesty the Emperor, he suddenly looked toward the enemy fleet.

The clouds above shifted, followed by a barrage of shells raining down on the battleship.

The Guardian Knight battleship, under concentrated fire, completely lost responsiveness. Other ships were damaged to varying degrees and unable to escape quickly.

Many soldiers were still fighting fires and rescuing others. They never expected the enemy to continue shelling after their white flag was raised.

It was a true massacre, yet no blood was visible. All bodies and debris sank to the ocean floor.

Military observers around the perimeter stared wide-eyed, realizing something serious was unfolding.

The defeat of the Gephra Royal Navy was already grave, but more terrifying was the Federation’s madness—they had not only claimed victory but almost annihilated all Gephra ships. Were they trying to spark a new war?

If so, what choice would that leave everyone?

The observers quickly identified themselves as non-threatening and withdrew. Staying any longer risked provoking the Federation into detaining them.

The sea gradually calmed. That night, nearly every key national defense figure in the Federation was awakened by the news.

Some even felt despair—war seemed imminent.