In this short report to Hikaru, Bismarck naturally emphasized what was most important. And what was that?
Of course—that she, Bismarck, had shown command in counterattacking the Abyssals, courage in charging alone into their ranks, resolve in standing up to Naval Headquarters, and was without question the MVP. Who else could it be but her?
As for Prince of Wales, Bismarck merely cast her a faint glance, then smirked.
Boasting of one's merit was, in some ways, even more crucial than earning it. Prince of Wales, you're still too green.
Bismarck didn't consider herself manipulative. As a commanding officer, clearly recording achievements and rewarding contributions was one of the most important duties. If rewards and punishments weren't applied properly, and she couldn't even secure recognition for her own, then she wouldn't be a qualified officer.
Yamato, naturally, hadn't come merely to deliver a shipload of resources. What she wanted was direct, frank communication with Hikaru, the master of this Naval District—for only he could overturn Bismarck's decisions now.
Hikaru responded to her casually, but inwardly his mind was more on how to determine the MVP.
Whoever became MVP would receive one special reward from him—he would fulfill a reasonable request. Deciding who got it would have huge consequences.
Saratoga? No, absolutely not. That mischievous brat would definitely use it to torment him somehow.
Prince of Wales… hmm. What would she ask for? Hard to say.
He was lost in thought when Changchun, who had gone with Yat Sen to fetch ingredients, suddenly came running back.
Her little face was unusually grave. "A northern storm is moving toward the Naval District!"
Everyone stiffened.
Clouds follow dragons, winds follow tigers—and wherever an Abyssal flagship marched, thunder and storm followed.
Had the Abyssal fleet finally run out of patience after lying quiet for days?
Bismarck's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Commander, something is off. We dealt a severe blow to Abyssal Yamato just two or three days ago. How could she have gathered new flagships in so short a time?"
"Who knows. Maybe it's just their way of saying hello." Hikaru turned to Changchun. "Do we know how far they are from the district?"
Changchun straightened, looking every bit the efficient officer. "So far, only signs of the storm's movement. Their actual position must still be at least a thousand nautical miles out."
"Then it's still early. At the soonest, fighting won't begin until tomorrow. Either way, the Naval District's defense battle begins now." Hikaru thought for a moment, then turned to Lexington. "Wife, as carrier task force leader, you'll command Ranger and Saratoga. You're in charge of reconnaissance and long-range strikes."
Lexington nodded solemnly.
Saratoga gave a goofy salute, while Ranger only twitched her rabbit ears in a cutesy act.
"Start half-alert status immediately. Deploy about one hundred fighters. Half of them are to keep close surveillance on the Abyssal fleet to the north, the other half spread out in a fan-shaped search across other directions, so we don't get caught by a feint."
Just like the escort aircraft of old-era warships, carrier shipgirls' role in war began with scouting—they were the best eyes on the sea.
Lexington acknowledged with a nod. She didn't even need the order; she had already begun dispatching her aircraft to patrol northward in formation.
Hikaru moved on to assign the others.
"Ella, Vampire, California—you'll form the reserve team. Handle supply transport, logistics, and miscellaneous tasks."
Vampire whipped out several headless fish from behind her back. "My torpedoes can be useful too! Specially made—super strong."
Hikaru rubbed her little head. "Don't worry, your effort will be noted. But as for the torpedoes, let Glowworm use them."
Torpedo combat was mainly the realm of destroyers and submarines. U-47 probably wouldn't bother with Vampire's toys; only Glowworm might put them to use.
Some large ships could use torpedoes too—Tirpitz, for instance, loved to follow up her shelling with a torpedo to finish things.
But if it came to a decisive fleet battle, Vampire's "enhanced" torpedoes, without any training behind them, would be no better than toys—utterly useless, just wasting an attack cycle.
Vampire beamed with satisfaction, while Ella never had been part of the combat group anyway. The only one sulking was California.
But no matter how much she pouted, Hikaru simply ignored it. War was at their doorstep. A greenhorn like California was better off tucked safely in port—otherwise, if she were sunk by a single shell, Hikaru would have nowhere to cry.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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