Pirate Kingship
Chapter 63 - 62 "T" Strategy, One Shot to the Soul

Chapter 63: Chapter 62 "T" Strategy, One Shot to the Soul

"Is that... a pirate ship?"

Gus had charged up to the mainmast’s platform at the first opportunity, making out the silhouette of the dark shape. The Golden Deer unfurled its fore-and-aft sails, pulled the braces to transform the foremast’s square sails into fore-and-aft sails, and had already completed the "starboard Qiangfeng—sailing close-hauled" maneuver, heading upwind.

The imposing dark shadow opposite them, however, rode the cold current from the nearby ice-field coast, and soon, both vessels had a brief encounter. Byron also managed to see that the dark shadow, which seemed to have endured a horrific slaughter and reeked of blood, was indeed a pirate ship. The vessel, flying a black Pirate Flag, maintained a state of "sailing braking": the sails on its foremast and mainmast were sheeted in opposite directions, with the mainmast generating reverse thrust to slow the ship. This allowed it to remain relatively stationary against the wind without anchoring, drifting slowly with the wind and current. In an emergency, the crew could quickly use the braces to adjust the sails’ angle to the wind, regain maneuverability, and engage in combat instantly. Judging by its current state, it appeared its crew had been wiped out by an unknown enemy before they could even react and switch to combat mode.

"That’s the Rainbow! It left port in a hurry yesterday with a dozen privateer ships and that prime ’confidant’ candidate, then vanished without a trace!" Byron exclaimed in surprise when they drew close enough to discern the somewhat tattered pirate flag. His internal "Sailing Logbook" clearly recorded the details of every ship he had ever seen. A single glance at the rainbow pirate flag on the mast was enough to identify the vessel.

At the very moment they could clearly observe each other, the opposing Rainbow privateer ship suddenly "awakened" like a startled beast. The sails, previously sheeted in opposite directions, instantly snapped back to position, catching the Level Five wind blowing from the north, and charged ferociously towards the Golden Deer. It gave no signal, nor showed any intention of communicating. There wasn’t even the customary excited yelling from pirates during a typical raid. Stranger still, as the ship moved, the surrounding thin mist moved with it, as if the fog originated from the vessel itself.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!...

Gus, the second mate in the mast platform, immediately rang the alarm bell.

Byron promptly issued the command: "Level 1 battle stations! All hands to combat posts immediately!"

The enemy ship held the advantageous windward position, while theirs was leeward. How similar this is to the battle between the Man-Eating Shark and the Stern Cruiser, Byron thought. And this time, there’s no wind power Transformation to save us. The Rainbow, being upwind and aided by the current, can gain at least another knot of speed. Its advantage is even greater than the Stern Cruiser’s was.

However, the crew members of the Golden Deer who had experienced that previous battle showed no fear; their eyes glinted with eager excitement. This privateer ship is merely a pirate ship converted from a small armed merchantman, not much stronger than the Man-Eating Shark was, they thought. Even in its current, somewhat eerie state, victory will surely be ours!

To fear being hunted while sailing the world’s fastest three-masted ship? Ridiculous, Byron mused, then calmly issued his orders: "Gain the windward position! Maneuver into the wind! Get us to windward of the Rainbow!"

"Seizing the windward gauge" was undoubtedly the golden rule for single-ship duels and Fleet battles in the age of sail. The advantages were numerous: easier targeting of the enemy’s waterline, increased cannon range due to wind assistance, and superior maneuverability from controlling the wake—everyone coveted these. The Man-Eating Shark of the past, with only square sails, couldn’t achieve it, but the Golden Deer, now equipped with two huge fore-and-aft sails, will have no problem, Byron considered.

"Sailing Master, course North by West, three compass points! Close-hauled! Show them what ’world’s fastest’ truly means!"

Fore-and-aft sails could tack at 30-40 degrees to the wind, while square sails could only manage 60 degrees. Combined with their ship’s title effects, the Golden Deer was now like a troop of light cavalry attacking heavy infantry. They possessed sufficient maneuverability to employ assertive tactics: "If the enemy advances, we retreat; if they retreat, we pursue; if they halt, we harass; if they tire, we strike."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Thomas, the Sailing Master, immediately directed the sail handlers to adjust the sails to the optimal angle to the wind, using the dense network of white running rigging.

The Rainbow, at their ten o’clock position, clearly discerned the Golden Deer’s intent. Following conventional thinking, it stretched its square sails to their limit. It performed a tactical maneuver of ’tacking from a downwind course,’ and similarly began to Qiangfeng upwind. The Rainbow, five nautical miles to the northwest, began circling to gain the windward side at a 60° angle, steadily closing in on the Golden Deer. The Golden Deer, meanwhile, also executed Qiangfeng at an angle of about 35° (one compass point equals 11.25°). Before engaging, the two pirate ships moved like two leaves dancing together in the wind, tracing zigzag paths, drawing ever closer. It was an eternal truth: superior upwind maneuverability would always win the weather gauge.

The Rainbow gradually realized something was amiss: its Qiangfeng efficiency was no match for the similarly sized Golden Deer?! Acting as if on a suicide mission, it changed tack again, attempting to use its square sails with the following wind to accelerate and ram the Golden Deer.

"Cross their ’T’! Blast their stern!"

The Golden Deer, unfazed, deftly cut to the west, narrowly skimming past the Rainbow’s stern.

"Cannon crews, load Solid Bullets! Carronades, load Scatter Bombs! Aim for the aft superstructure! Fire sequentially from bow to stern! Three, two, one... FIRE!"

When the distance closed to within 200 meters, Byron decisively ordered all long-range Cannons to fire.

"FIRE!" the first mate and the Gunner Chief bellowed, their shouts echoing across the deck.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!...

Orange-red muzzle flashes flickered in succession. The seven 6-pounder Cannons on the port side fired one after another, sending scorching hot cast-iron projectiles smashing into the Rainbow’s tall aft superstructure. Whether on merchant ships or Warships, the stern section invariably housed officers’ quarters or large living areas composed of cabins and balconies. These ornate yet fragile "glass curtain walls," as they were sometimes called, offered little more protection than window paper against a broadside. The spherical projectiles tore through the stern, unstoppable. They ricocheted and screamed through the entire length of the privateer ship’s gun deck, penetrating from stern to bow, devastating everything in their path, or struck the deck and beams, unleashing a deadly rain of wooden splinters.

This was the beauty of "crossing the T." As the horizontal bar of the "T," your cannons, arrayed along your broadside, faced the enemy’s unarmed and weakly defended stern or bow. One could easily inflict devastating damage, a truly soul-crushing volley!

The stench of blood emanating from the privateer ship intensified, agitating the Man-Eater Sharks lurking in the waters below. However, those aboard the Golden Deer heard few human sounds from the enemy vessel; instead, sharp screeches echoed from within its hull.

"Continue loading! We’ll circle around to the enemy’s windward side and deliver another ’T’ broadside to their bow!" Byron commanded with a grand wave of his hand.

Having superior maneuverability is a license to be bold, he thought. This advantage allowed him to risk more audacious tactics, thereby achieving overwhelming battle outcomes. The purpose of a sea trial wasn’t just to test a ship’s performance but also to develop a combat doctrine best suited to it. Future "Tudor Hybrid Sailing Ships" would be capable of long-range artillery duels beyond 200 meters but would emphasize close-range engagements around 100 meters. At that range, the 32-pound Carronades held absolute firepower dominance.

However, the Rainbow was not entirely a helpless target. Though slower, its turning radius was also smaller. It managed to evade destruction and present its windward broadside towards the Golden Deer. As they passed each other at a close distance of one hundred meters, Byron, holding his trump cards and utterly fearless, gave a cold-eyed command to the gun crews: "Carronades, prepare to sweep the enemy’s main deck! Three, two..."

Just as the gunner’s linstock was about to touch the Carronade’s priming pan, a figure on the opposing deck—dressed in prison garb, its eyes replaced by blood-soaked silver coins—also waved its hand.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!...

Billowing gunsmoke erupted. But the six cannons on the Rainbow’s open deck hadn’t fired normal projectiles; they had unleashed six oversized parasites... whale lice!