How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 90: Premature Encounter (2)

"Is everyone okay?!"

"We're fine!"

"Then don't just f***ing stand there, fire back!"

THUD THUD THUD THUD!

Cannonballs flew in all directions, skimming the water's surface like a school of flying fish, their black bodies flashing.

The deck became chaotic with the mixed noise of soldiers unlucky enough to die from being hit by cannonballs, soldiers hurriedly patching hull breaches with planks, and soldiers shouting commands here and there.

"Ha, hahahahaha!"

Looking back, several allied ships had broken masts. The enemy ships?

Just one or two.

F***ing hell. Half-defeated already.

Drake laughed because he felt terrible. He took out the wine bottle from his waist, poured it over his head, drew his sword, and shouted.

"Well, we're screwed! Prepare to flee!"

Even as he said this, Drake's eyes frantically traced the ships around. Judging by the arrangement of nearby islands, the current wind direction, and the movement of ships...

We can't just flee smoothly.

A fierce hand-to-hand battle would follow.

Even though not much time had passed, even though only about 10 people had died in battle so far, Drake could already envision the scene.

He wasn't the only one who sensed this. Experienced sailors were already loading guns and drawing swords. They sang boisterous songs among themselves to boost morale.

And suddenly.

Silence fell all around.

This was because both enemy and allied cannonballs had dropped. The slowly approaching enemy ships were still maintaining their formation thoroughly, preparing for the coming melee.

They prepare grappling hooks.

They draw swords.

They sing loudly to calm their fearful hearts.

And then.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

The silence is broken.

The sudden cannon sound wasn't from the allies. Then, was it from the enemies?

No, it wasn't that either.

That means...

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

Suddenly, the enemy formation starts to become disordered.

As if someone had appeared from behind...

Ah.

Only then did Drake's view catch two huge transport ships.

The clippers that had dangerously mounted several cannons on the deck just for this day.

These ships swiftly turned and again showered the enemy with cannonballs, but the enemy ships, having already spent most of their cannonballs facing the enemy in front, could only struggle without being able to respond.

The English sailors, who had been blankly watching this scene... like possessed, began to sing in rhythm and moved to their positions. Then they turned their ships toward the enemy vessels.

The opportunity was when the enemies were scattered here and there. Drake, this time with a broad smile, shouted again.

"Anyone preparing to flee dies by my hand!"

And no one 'prepared to flee.'

They are born pirates.

They were born with an innate sense of who, where, when, and how to rob.

And now the answer was clear.

They had to rob the enemies right in front of them.

==

I've only ever lived in cities or rural areas, but after slipping in and out of Croatoan and Chesapeake by boat, I got a feel for navigation.

And after riding clippers for months, I realized something.

This ship is insanely fast and terribly unstable.

Like a Hijet with a jet engine attached.

It's a ship that has completely sacrificed stability and comfort solely for speed, so life on board was... terrible.

The problem is also that this ship is a sailing ship, so even that 'speed' becomes totally useless if you don't follow a certain route.

And if you face a headwind? There's no answer at all.

Given such a ship, its performance in battle was also clearly visible.

A ship that can't mount many cannons, is large in size, has a low height, and simultaneously heavily depends on wind speed and direction for movement?

This is a target.

"Now we should enter..."

"Let's wait a bit longer."

"Nemo? Our allies are being pushed back..."

"Not yet."

So I waited for quite a while. Until my precious sailors and clippers wouldn't turn into lumps of meat and pieces of board, respectively.

"Nemo! No more cannon sounds are heard!"

"Now's the time!"

"Now's the time, comrades! Let's go kick those slave traders' behinds right away!"

And now was that time.

When Raleigh and I shouted simultaneously, all the sailors moved at once.

A favorable wind was blowing.

Like racehorses that have heard the starting gunshot, the two ships began to sprint madly. And before the enemies could even react...

"Turn!"

While turning, fire!

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

The Spanish, suddenly hit by cannonballs without knowing why, fall into panic and flail around.

This isn't simply because they saw our two ships.

If enemy ships have surprised them once, couldn't it happen twice? They start to panic, unable to gauge how many more reinforcements England might have.

Some throw grappling hooks at our ship, but they don't reach the range, so they just fall into the sea in vain.

Plus, we still have plenty of cannonballs.

"Fire!"

BOOM BOOM!

Few cannons but large cargo capacity. In other words, we can only fire a little at a time, but we can store and use as much ammunition and cannonballs as we want!

As we continued our bombardment, the enemies now turned their ships to port and starboard in complete confusion and tension. And through that chaotic gap, English ships began to charge.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

After such indiscriminate firing, the Spanish ships became completely like rags and staggered. The English ships slip in between and induce a melee.

Satisfied with achieving our goal, we applauded in celebration. The Voyager led by Vicente had already poured out lots of cannonballs and was retreating, and it was time for us to do the same.

"Alright, Walter?"

"Everyone prepare to retreat! Maintain firing range and shoot at the enemies!"

Enemy ships, now thoroughly agitated, belatedly chase after us, but it's already too late. We unfurled our sails and again accelerated toward the rear...

"Huh?"

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...or tried to.

The wind stopped.

Our clipper, not disappointing expectations, stopped abruptly.

...Should we row instead?

While thinking this, enemy ships slowly approach. They target only this Enterprise, abandoning the already distant Voyager.

Carrying sailors who are thoroughly agitated and spouting all kinds of curses in Spanish.

They are spinning ropes with grappling hooks for hand-to-hand combat, looking down at our ship.

Yes, 'looking down.'

This ship has a low height.

So it's disadvantageous for hand-to-hand combat.

Um...

"Walter?"

"I'm here."

"Tell everyone else to go below deck."

"Everyone! Take shelter below deck! And secure the entrance tightly!"

"And please give me 'that'."

"Understood."

So I picked up 'that,' and Raleigh lifted a shield made of Lexan. With just a few people left on the deck, Spanish men jumped down.

"Raleigh, position yourself well to avoid being surrounded, and cover me."

"Understood."

"The rest of you, be careful with your lives."

"Understood, Nemo!"

Soon, Spanish men who jumped in from all directions look around and...

They hesitate upon seeing my 'that.'

"Wh-what is that terrible thing..."

WHIIIIIIIIIIRRR!

What else would it be?

A great communication tool.

I swung the chainsaw and charged at the enemies.

"Everyone fire! Quickly!"

Behind me, musketeers with Lexan shields covered me.