2^th March, 1636, far west of Feplaria, afternoon

Captain Llarm Valbella stared out into the open sea in front as his ship gently swayed in the rather calm waves. He was in charge of leading one of Feplaria’s ‘delegation fleet’, one which the country had used repeatedly in order to assert dominance over the entirety of the 3^rd World waters. Being a dark elf majority country meant they received the blessings of the 1^st World Powers, specifically the High Elves, whose Holy Name they weren’t allowed to take. Llarm closed his eyes, feeling the winds brushing past his chocolate brown skin, running along his long, slender ears and through the strands of his shoulder length white hair.  He turned his head back, towards the centre of the group of ships.

There, sailing proudly in the middle of the group of ships, was the Aster, the pride of the Feplarian Navy, a ship armed with one of the Divine Artifacts blessed to them by the High Elves: a cannon. The High Elves had, despite their excessive distaste for the 3^rd and 2^nd Worlders, had decided to provide support the Feplarians and their quest to “cleanse” the 3^rd World of the ‘inferior races’ and establish elven supremacy, even if they were dark elves. This had come as a shock to everyone in the 3^rd World; the 3^rd World worshipped the 1^st World as gods because to them, they were capable of feats no mortal could do. As such, when the ‘gods’ themselves favoured the dark elves, everyone was disturbed. Feplaria had been expanding rapidly, launching armed campaigns against their neighbours, purging thousands to their deaths. One after another in quick succession, they had expanded and become the most powerful piece on the board, both in economy and in military.

And the ‘delegation fleet’ that Llarm was leading was one of the reasons for Feplaria’s expansion. Simply adding cannons to their ships allowed them to wrestle control of most major shipping routes and exert absolute power in the 3^rd World waters. There was virtually no one who could challenge their authority.  Feplaria was on its way to become the unchallenged ruler of the 3^rd World.

Amidst all this political chaos, something new popped up. One year ago, a massive magic surge was felt to the west of the country, beyond the ‘Edge of the World’, just right outside the country’s backyard. Because large magic surges were associated with the discovery of magic stone mines, the Navy immediately dispatched one of their ‘delegation fleets’ to ‘politely greet’ the natives and ‘peacefully take their resources’.

The ‘delegation fleet’ was a task force of ships of the Feplarian Navy, whose job was a variety of things; they would be used for carrying out landings on shore and capture a specific target alongside multiple of these forces. The main ships of the force would use their cannons as artillery and shell the beaches, providing support to the men on the ground. The reputation of the Feplarian Navy meant they could openly ambush and coerce merchant ships in the open sea for their cargo, essentially using their ‘Divine Artifacts’ for committing piracy.

As Llarm turned his head back towards the front, the sunlight reflecting off his black shoulder plates, he directed his thoughts towards their objective, and immediately a frown appeared on his forehead. The release of the magic didn’t feel right. Usually the discovery of magic stone mines releasing huge amounts of energy wasn’t unheard of, but this was different. It felt off, something wasn’t right. Yet it seemed most people couldn’t feel the difference. The few who did, sealed their lips in fear of going against the majority.

Llarm was one of the few who could feel it, yet was unable to point it out. Inwardly, he comforted himself, saying that maybe he was thinking too much about it.  He shrugged off the thoughts by drawing his thoughts about how he should approach the new natives.

Truth be told, the fact that there was any sort of civilization beyond what they had always known as the ‘Edge of the World’ came as a surprise to them. Everyone collectively believed that beyond the island chain separating the known world and the ‘Edge of the World’, nothing existed, and if something did exist, it was definitely not pleasant. There were a lot of folklore and traditional stories about demons and monsters living outside the ‘Edge of the World’, stories of heroes defeating scary and hideous demons. Llarm too, had heard those tales when he was young, especially of the heroes, the dark-skinned humans who wielded power handed to them by the ‘gods’ themselves to fend off the demons. Such tales had inspired countless young men to grow up and join the Feplarian forces, Llarm being one of them.

After being assigned to this mission however, Llarm had been anxious this entire time. Until now, the ocean to the west of the country had been merely an afterthought, something akin to a painting hanging on a wall; its charm and charisma fades after the first few days of being purchased. Now however, suddenly everyone realized that there was probably a golden hen sitting right in their backyard, hidden from everyone’s sight for a very long time.

As he prepared for the journey, in his head the stories of old repeatedly kept resurfacing, the ones about monsters and demons and what not. What if there was even a tiny bit of truth to those stories? What would they do if they stepped too close to the sun…………? Would they be able to hold them off, just like their heroes did………….?

‘Oh dear,’ Llarm thought to himself as he realized that despite his best efforts, his thoughts had once again come a full circle around to rest at the same place they started.

Suddenly, his ears caught something. A sound.  Faint, distant, yet distinct. Distinct enough to at least identify it.  Though the identify part was dubious, since the only fact he could identify was that he couldn’t identify the sound at all. It was something he had never heard before. A persistent, droning noise, far off in the distance. Few people had the good hearing required to pick it up, so most people around him hadn’t noticed it at all. Llarm didn’t like it. The noise had been appearing routinely over the fleet since the last 2 days, persistently following the fleet for hours before fading into silence. Whatever the source of the noise was, it was probably very good at hiding itself, since no matter where or how far he looked, the source of the noise could never be found. Even using magic didn’t help.

Llarm didn’t like it. It was disconcerting. One of the biggest enemies in a battle was information. Lack of information and its consequences were enough to bring down even the mightiest of empires, something the Dark Elves knew very well.

He had discussed the issue with other, capable people in the fleet. Most had reported not hearing anything due to how faint the sound was. Some, however, did, reporting that they heard the same droning noise, some described it as being somewhat similar to that made by bees, but most agree that it sounded strange. They were supposed to be in open seas, then how on earth were they hearing strange bee noises? Some conjectured that maybe there were some demons or monsters that had yet to be discovered.

Just like the last 2 days, the strange bee noise persisted for a long time, quietly blending into the ambience of the ocean. Llarm looked stared out in the ocean. Whatever was waiting for them at other end wasn’t going to be as pleasant as their previous ‘delegations’. Yet it wouldn’t matter, for they were the ‘superior species’, destined to rule the humans like the livestock they were. Llarm reminisces about his previous missions, about the taste of human females, about the sweet stench of burning human meat. About the pleasant screams of dying human women and children. His lips curved upward in a smile, fantasizing about the taste of human females he might find at his destination.

2^nd March, 2036, a few hundred nautical miles off the Andaman and Nicobar Island chain, 2:15 P.M.

“Enjoying the view?”

Captain Om Tiwari asked as he casually strolled up to a man dressed in suit standing by the railing of his ship, a Vishakhapatnam class destroyer. As he leisurely lined up alongside the man, a diplomat assigned by the Indian Government, spoke up.

“It sure is a nice view, hard to believe it is supposed to be an alien planet. Never thought aliens would use bows and spears and speak English. Aren’t they supposed to be causing some apocalypse or something with giant lasers?”

“Well, it is what it is. Can’t do anything about it, can you?”

The diplomat nodded. Life had changed ever since the transfer. Most people felt the government was smoking weed or something until the effects of the transfer hit. Being cut off from the world hit everyone hard. There were only a few people who didn’t have to worry about their future despite the circumstance. Government employees like the diplomat here, Abhilash Pandey, belonged to that category.

Diplomats like him were the only ones who had the luxury of being able to spend time leisurely following the transfer, albeit for a short time. Initially, there was a lot of work to do, handling the chaos caused due to the transfer, as well as handling the assimilation of foreign assets and foreign soil in Indian territory, but it settled down eventually. And there weren’t any countries or anything like that to deal with, or at least weren’t known to exist back then, so they didn’t have much to do. However, this changed after ISRO’s findings were made public. Alien civilization had been discovered. And there was a possibility of forming beneficial relations with them. As such, everyone was back on their feet again.

Yet they couldn’t just walk up to their door and announce themselves. India was isolated from everyone. It wasn’t that India was incapable of reaching those places. Even if the new planet was larger than the home planet, it wasn’t so large that they couldn’t reach the other side of the world. If they focused on establishing diplomatic relations however, they would be at a disadvantageous situation simply because they were in a dire position. Naturally, the Ministry of External Affairs was yet to come to life fully.

That was until a few days ago. Now, they were preparing for making India’s first appearance on this world’s map. A convoy of alien ships was heading directly towards the country, from the west of the country. Initially they were assumed to be merchant ships, but then came in an urgent message from the intelligence agencies and the nerds from ISRO. One of the ships from the convoy was armed, with what appeared to be cannons. Those alien ships probably belonged to the Navy of a country, and now there was a very high chance that they were aware of India’s arrival in this world. It was therefore, very important that they didn’t botch their first contact with the alien nation.

Abhilash sighed as he thought about what was coming next. His role was going to be important, historic even, for it would be the first contact between India and the new world. The pressure was high. This meeting wasn’t just India making some new friends, it was directly connected to the future of the country, and everyone knew that well. India would take a long time to recover on its own, but help from outside could change that. This first meeting would have a direct impact on the future of millions of Indians suffering from the effects of the transfer.

For this mission, he was flown from Delhi to Chennai and then directly aboard the guided missile destroyer he was on right now, immediately after he had done his ‘homework’ and packed his bags. There wasn’t much known about the ‘aliens’ apart from whatever could be seen from space, other than that they were surprisingly primitive, probably spoke English, and actually seemed identical to humans, at least from the photographs taken from satellites and the instruments aboard the INSS Dhruvyaan. The lack of information made his job even harder, for they were attempting to establish diplomatic relations without any information about who they were meeting or what they were like, or even what their names were and what they called their country. This lack of information would prove even more problematic when attempting to establish trade deals and such; if not careful, they might get played into accepting unfavourable deals by these ‘aliens’.

“We’re getting close. They should appear on the horizon in a few minutes.”

 The captain spoke, leisurely looking out towards the horizon. The new world’s sun shone brightly upon them, with shiny, glittery waves reflecting the sun’s light like a mirror as they danced about. Among these waves rode the destroyer, a giant, beautiful and complex mass of steel.

Abhilash’s thoughts wandered about the upcoming task, about the aliens. He had read about them, about how primitive they appeared to be. He wondered how they would react when they would first see a modern-day destroyer? To them, it would be some sort of impossible, alien technology, similar to way a common Indian would imagine an alien spaceship to be. He exhaled deeply. This wasn’t going to be easy. But he had a job to do. He stretched his back, drawing his hands away from the railing of the deck, then straightened it. He was the one selected for this job, for the future of millions. And he was going to ensure he did it right, just like he and everyone in his ministry had always done when needed.

He turned to look at the captain, who handed him a pair of binoculars. He lined up the binocs with his eyes, concentrating at the horizon. He strained his eyes, focusing all his attention to see whatever was on the horizon.

“We’re in visual range now, you will see our mehmaan very clearly very soon.” The captain spoke as Abhilash squinted his eyes, staring hard at his objectives.

There, on the horizon, were shapes. Jutting out of the ocean surface. Rocking with the waves. Masts, belonging to the ships of the alien convoy. One mast, two masts. Several appeared, there colours indistinguishable from the distance, the only thing visible being their silhouette.

There were here. The residents of the new world, here to greet them. The ‘aliens’ he had been reading about thoroughly for the last few weeks. The inhabitants of this new world that India and its million children found itself in.

Abhilash stared at the silhouettes quietly for some time. Then he turned around to face the captain. Besides him were also Abhilash’s aides and several fully armed MARCOS operators, standing calmly wearing their dark blue outfits and heavy chest rigs, their gloved hands resting on the pistol grips of their TAVORS, their facial expressions hidden behind their balaclavas and helmets. They had been assigned to protect Abhilash just in case, and considering the situation, every combat element in the area and especially those assigned to this mission was instructed to be weapons tight, meaning they won’t be opening fire unless the other side assaults them. This was needed in case the aliens turn out to be hostile, but it was also needed so that the situation wouldn’t escalate to the point of no return even if things go slightly off the rails.

Abhilash looked at them, and nodded. He then turned his head towards the front, and spoke.

“Alright then, let’s give them a taste of our hospitality. Gotta show how well we take care of our guests.”

 

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Llarm frowned, racking his brain hard in order to comprehend the contraption in front of him, trying to wring out his brain for any piece of info that would make it even slightly more familiar. Yet nothing came up, no matter how hard he thought. The contraption in question, had appeared on the horizon some time ago, moving at an alarming speed and closing the distance between itself and his fleet in a short time. At first it appeared to be an oddly shaped island with a tower on it, but soon it became clear that islands weren’t capable of moving this fast, at least in the reality they lived in.

Immediately the fleet’s warship begun to move ahead and turn its side to the unknown object, ready to attack should it turn out to be hostile. However, the strange object, as if having expected this already, started flashing a light at them. Or what was supposed to be a light, since Llarm couldn’t sense any magic from it. The only thing he knew was it was probably a kind of signal, that’s all.

As the object came closer and alongside his own fleet, Llarm could make out more and more details, and unfortunately for him, it didn’t make things any easier. The only conclusion he could draw was that the object was most likely some sort of ship, as its hull was the only thing that looked vaguely familiar. Everything else however, wasn’t. It lacked any characteristics that any ship he knew of were supposed to have. The ship was large, larger than any ships he had ever seen, its imposing size intimidating everyone in his fleet, including him, giving an uncomfortable chill down their backs. It had no sails, or anything that resembled sails, baffling him and everyone along with him as to how the ‘ship’ was moving. Rather, the ‘ship’ had a large number of strange objects and what he could only assume to be magic powered artifacts of some sort, all over the ship. Llarm tried to connect those to artifacts he had known about, trying to comprehend their purpose, but again he came up empty handed. He had simply never seen such kinds of objects.

The other thing that baffled him was the glass. He couldn’t find the ‘ships’ wheel and who was driving this strange ship, but he saw what he could only describe as a short tower with narrow glass windows near the top. This was even more confusing. Ships weren’t supposed to have glass windows like those, at least he had never seen such a ship in his entire life. Straining his eyes, he saw movement behind those glass windows, and realized that maybe that was where the wheel was.

Llarm had an uncomfortable feeling about this. They had just something new, something strange. Something beyond their comprehension, that no matter how much they tried, they couldn’t understand. A mix of curiosity and horror had now germinated inside him and most people around him.

Suddenly, Llarm noticed something. Near the bow of the unidentified ship were the silhouettes of people standing. As the ship closed in, the people waved at his ship.

Llarm couldn’t completely make out the figures, only that they were wearing something dark coloured and waving their arms at them, signalling at them. He decided to answer the signal and come closer to interact with the strangers.

As he came closer, he realized something, and frowned. The people were humans, wearing forms of clothing he had never seen before. Some wore outfits that were completely black and held in their arms a sort of contraption he had again, never seen before. These ones had their faces hidden and the air around them screamed discipline, so Llarm concluded they were guards of some sort, and the thing in their arms was most likely a magic staff of some sort.

The others were different. They too wore clothing that was dark, but it was different. It reminded Llarm of the dresses worn by royalty and the aristocrats. They didn’t have the same aura as their guards standing beside them, and their clothing and lack of any visible weaponry suggested they were at least not trained combatants.  

One of them waved his hand and shouted at Llarm.

“Can you hear me!?”

Llarm looked at the human with a frown, somewhat suppressing his disdain for humans and preventing it from showing it on his face, and loudly replied.

“Vessel of unknown origin, state your origin and purpose for entering Feplarian waters! ”

The humans on the other side looked at each other in a confused manner. After some deliberation, the man from before replied in a loud voice.

“We come from the land of India, and you are the one currently entering Indian territorial waters! We wish to establish diplomatic relations with your government! We are, ummm, new here, and not familiar with the customs here, so pardon us for any mistakes we might accidentally make!”

Something rose from within Llarm. His thoughts focused on the first part of the man’s words, about him telling Llarm that he was entering THEIR territory. It fuelled his rage. His disdain for humans and the deep-rooted belief of elven superiority ingrained through his childhood caused him to silently fume in rage. Maybe they should have sent a subjugation fleet one year ago immediately after the magic surge was detected. They leave these lowly humans for one year, thinking they could hit them anytime since they were in their backyard, and now this happens.  Llarm couldn’t take it. These humans had to be taught their place, that they were and always be lower than the elves who had been chosen by Gods themselves. Llarm was completely blinded by rage now, completely disregarding whatever the other side said.

Llarm took a step forward, leaning from the deck of his ship, and spoke loudly.

“Feplaria does not recognise the autonomy of any country not acknowledged by the Queen herself, and especially when a shitty country claims itself to be in rightfully recognized Feplarian territory!”

Llarm could see the expressions on the other sides faces sour visibly. Inwardly, he smirked. Be grateful, bugs. At least you get to hear a royal edict before being burned to death.

On the other side, the man Llarm was talking to, Abhilash, inwardly cursed him. This was leading to exactly where he didn’t want it to go. It was very clearly a declaration of war against India, and that being delivered with such haughtiness and confidence that puts even Pakistani social media users to shame. And the worst part was that it might not be the worst part, because if the alien guy’s statement was to be taken seriously, this was actually how diplomacy and foreign politics happened all over the world here, and this was most likely not the worst thing they might have to experience. This world was unlike the previous one, one where everyone refrained from speaking about open conflict carelessly and where every caution was taken to avoid all out war. Here, people hadn’t yet got to the point where they would realize that war was not a good thing, and that openly challenging countries to cockfighting isn’t a good idea after all.

Abhilash sighed inwardly, then returned his facial expression to what it was before, the same business like smile. Sure, the meeting hadn’t taken a nice turn, but it wasn’t over yet. The talks had yet to be concluded. There was still a chance of turning the situation around and securing a victory.

“We are not illegally intruding in any country’s territory nor are we rejecting the rightful claims of any sovereign country! India recognizes the rights and dignity of every country so long as their claims are just and not harmful towards anyone or India herself! We only wish to establish diplomatic relations with your country and have peaceful relatio-”

“ENOUGH!!! Feplaria does NOT recognise the existence of your ‘India’ and neither will we listen to your bullshit! You are in Feplarian waters, comply and obediently surrender your vessel and your weapons, else we have the right to deliver the Queen’s judgement on you!”

Llarm interrupted the Indian diplomat loudly, his rage now in the open for everyone to see. He had had enough now. All this diplomacy and bullshit had sucked on his patience, now he only wanted an excuse to attack these humans, to hear the sweet melody of their screams. He wasn’t used to sweet talking with humans, or rather, he had completely given up any kind of normal conversation with humans since long ago. That wasn’t his job, that was the job of other people responsible for dealing with humans, not him. He was a simple elf, he only believed in killing humans, not talking with them.

 For a moment, there was silence. There was a tense air between the two ships, completely different from each other, yet sailing proudly side by side. For a brief moment, only silence dominated the air between them.

Then a clear voice resounded from the Indian side, this time more resolute, and devoid of the business-like cheer, now loaded with a certain coldness that disturbed Llarm to the core.

“I am afraid we cannot do that, sir. India is determined to defend its people and its dignity, and so unfortunately, there are some lines we cannot cross.”

Murmurs erupted on the Feplarian side. They had not been used to getting any other response than the total and unconditional surrender from human ships and their crews that they ambushed. Some sarcastically applauded the Indians for their audacity, and some were like Llarm. Enraged. Mad. Fuming.

He raised one arm in the arm, channelling a sizable amount of magic in the form of a fireball. He looked at the Indian side, and felt his mouth curve in a smile as he saw the humans witness the strange spectacle, alarmed.

“I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU HUMANS! I GAVE YOU A CHANCE TO SERVE AS THE LOYAL SLAVES OF THE QUEEN AND DISGRACED MYSELF ENOUGH TO TALK SENSE TO YOU! AS I A PROUD MEMBER OF THE FEPLARIAN NAVY, I SHALL CRUSH YOU FOR UNLAWFULLY TRESPASSING INTO FEPLARIAN TERRITORY!”

Llarm swung his arm towards the Indian ship, and the now fully armed fireball hurled towards the alien ship, directly where the Indian delegate was.

The delegate’s security detail immediately jumped into action, quickly grabbing the Indian diplomats and hitting the deck, bracing for the incoming attack.

A small explosion. The fireball hit the railing on the deck, causing a small explosion, comparable to the ones produced by fireworks used in Diwali, creating a small puff of brown-black smoke.

For a brief moment, there was silence. The Indian side was stunned speechless at the incident. The crew of the destroyer looked at the scene with wide eyes. To the Indian crewmen used to dealing with their ‘mischievous neighbours’ back in the old world, this was beyond their wildest imaginations.

 It had happened, the very thing everyone feared. Despite their best efforts, the option of peace had now been thrown out of the window. All hope for any kind of peaceful relation between India and the natives of the new world had been dashed.

As the Indian side was recovering from the shock caused by how quickly the situation escalated, Llarm charged another fireball as he started shouting commands, now entirely drowned in rage.

“ALL FEPLARIAN NAVY UNITS, FIRE UPON THESE BUGS! SHOW THEM THE REASON WHY THE ENTIRE WORLD FEARS US DARK ELVES! ”

At his command, all the elves near him began chanting and charging up their own magic attacks, forming balls and spears of various colours and temperatures. Aster also began moving, turning sharply and closing in on the destroyer.

As the smoke from the bow cleared up, Llarm’s men got a clear view of the result of their attack. The ship had suffered pretty much no damage at all, save for some paint being chipped away and a small portion of the railing on the deck being blackened. As for the people, the Indian official was back on his feet, crouching as his guards escorted him and his aides away. The guards were now on full alert, something Llarm could sense despite unable to see the expression on their faces. They had switched to what Llarm assumed was a combat stance, holding the unknown black contraptions in an odd way, somewhat similar to the pose assumed when pointing a spear at a foe.

The guards were quick on their feet. They had already escorted the Indian diplomat away from the bow by the time the smoke cleared, much to Llarm’s annoyance. Normally an attack like that would have caused substantial damage to a ship, causing uncontrollable fires on the wooden deck and blowing a significant portion of wood from the impact point. Yet, the ship in front of him was completely unharmed, seemingly mocking his efforts.

Llarm felt enraged. It didn’t matter. The humans in front of him were nothing more than fodder, meant to be used to nourish the superior Dark Elves and their superior Elven Gods. So what if his attack didn’t do anything, the humans were merely lucky. Unfortunately for them, he thought, their luck just ran out.

 “Fire!”

At Llarm’s command, all the dark elves on his ship released their magic in a giant flash of fireballs and ice spears, as well as some earth arrows mixed in. The salvo of magic raced towards the destroyer, hitting its hull.

Small explosions of the magic resounded throughout the scene. A series of small puffs of smoke lined the hull where the explosions hit. The Feplarians began charging up their magic again, now also steering their ship close enough to board the enemy ship.

Llarm showed a smirk, unable to conceal his pride. The attack was exponentially powerful compared to the one from before, powerful enough to punch a massive hole in any ship’s hull. No matter how weird or strange a ship might be, it stood no chance against such an attack.

The smoke cleared up immediately, allowing everyone to see the result of the deadly Elven assault.

For a brief moment, there was silence. The Feplarian side was completely stunned, their eyes wide open in disbelief and horror. Llarm himself was speechless, his mouth agape, unable to believe what he was seeing.

The ship was completely fine. The impact area only had some dark spots of blackened soot which were immediately washed away by the rising waves. There was no fire, no damage at all. The ship was intact, its large, imposing size still just as intimidating as it was when they first saw it.

Llarm was aghast. How was a ship able to survive such a hit? No matter how big a ship may be, the sheer amount of magic targeted at it would be enough to crush its wooden hull, it was simply impossible to shrug it off like this ship did. No wait, was the hull even made of wood? Llarm looked at the impact site, noticing something. His confusion became even deeper, now accompanied with horror.

No matter how he looked at it, it was metal. The hull was made of metal. His common sense protested against this line of thinking, but the lustre from the ship’s hull reflecting in his eyes said otherwise.

This was impossible. Making a ship out of metal was complete insanity. After all, everyone knew that metal sinks in water. The only time he heard about metal ships was when the Gods, the High Elves came to his country using their large metal ships……..

Something struck inside Llarm, and his rage returned. These humans were mocking his Gods, thinking their puny metal creations could somehow put them above the superior Elves. They were merely playing Gods, thinking they had done something great by coating some boats with a metal. Llarm didn’t know how they would do such a thing, but he did know one thing: they had to die.

And so Llarm returned to chanting, fuelled by his rage to crush the humans. Suddenly he noticed something, and turned to look at it.

Something about the enemy ship was different. Specifically, near the bow of the ship. The ship was covered in strange artifacts and objects of weird shapes and sizes, and one such object near the bow had moved. Specifically, it had turned. It looked very odd, somewhat similar to a box with a big, black stick sticking out of it. Llarm could swear the box was facing away before the attack, but now the end of the black stick was turned towards the starboard, towards him.

An explosion. Or maybe, a series of explosions, Llarm couldn’t tell. This time, it was far larger and far, far more powerful than anything the Feplarians had ever experienced. Everyone was shocked and frozen still. Llarm was thrown off his feet from the explosion, along with many others who were close to the enemy ship.

Immediately following it was a crashing sound, followed by sounds of screams and a huge splash, followed by more smaller explosions. Llarm looked towards the source of the sound, stunned and frozen due to shock and horror.

The Aster was hit, by something. He didn’t know what exactly, but he knew it was hit. The Aster, the pride of the Feplarian Navy, was now a burning, floating heap of wood. There was a giant hole in the side of the ship, through which mangled pieces of meat and wood could be seen, still letting out smoke and steam. The mast and the rigging were gone, completely destroyed. The artifacts generously handed by the Gods, the cannons poking out of the sides of the ship, were nowhere to be found.

Llarm stayed motionless, unable to move a muscle enough to even speak anything coherently. His eyes were glued to the remains of the ship that was once the pride of his country, that was at one time, his dream as well. Now right in front of him, that ship was burning, turned into a horrible, disturbing abomination, all traces of its previous glory gone.

Llarm slowly turned his head towards the enemy ship, now trembling. In front of him was the enemy ship, still sailing imposingly without a care in the world, as if mocking him and his helplessness. Besides that however, there was something else different. There was smoke seeping out of the black stick’s end, though it looked like it hadn’t moved at all.

Llarm tried collecting himself, using whatever willpower he could muster to try and use magic to find the cause of the Aster’s demise. His trembling eyes glowed as he attempted to scan the enemy ship for any magic.

However, the results sapped whatever willpower he had mustered, disrupting his magic eyes. The shock of the situation and the confusion started to hit him even more.

There was no magic at all. The enemy ship had no trace of magic at all, meaning whatever was used on Aster was not magic, but a physical attack.

Llarm couldn’t comprehend anything now. Who was it that they were really going up against? How could they cast such powerful magic attack without any magic at all? This was no longer making any sense at all. His mind was being torn apart from the sheer absurdity of the events unfolding in front of him. He needed answers. No matter what, he couldn’t allow humans to win. He was a proud Dark Elf, and as a proud elf, it was his job to ensure he cemented Elven superiority over these humans.

However, Llarm would probably never get those answers, for immediately the destroyer’s 76mm rapid fire autocannon opened up on his ship, knocking him unconscious and throwing him off the ship as it was reduced to the same fate as the now sinking Aster.

The other ships barely had any room to react as 76mm rounds tore through them, blowing them up one after another. Often, the rounds would completely penetrate the ships and hit the ship behind them before blowing up.

The Feplarian crews were struck by panic by the sudden attack, but it only made things worse as ship after ship blew up. All the while the Visakhapatnam class destroyer precisely picked it targets, firing a burst of two or three rounds then switching targets. The close range meant the gun had no issues regarding accuracy since every shot connected. Each shot sent a large splash of water up in the air along with a cloud of wood fragments and elf meat.

In a few minutes, the gun felt silent. All targets had been destroyed. The sea around the destroyer was covered in debris, flailing survivors and pieces of burnt wood. In between all that, the lone destroyer stood imposingly, smoke pouring out of the muzzle, reigning the now silent and eerily tranquil spectacle.

The tranquillity however, was merely the calm before the storm.