Three streamlined, rainbow-hued torpedoes—each the length of an arm—shot from the tubes like laser beams, heading straight for two of the Abyssal flagships.
One slammed directly into Abyssal Zumwalt's lower back. Her 58 points of armor might as well have been paper before a six-star wire-guided torpedo. The violent armor-piercing detonation went off at once; her 68 points of durability dropped to zero, and a single torpedo blew the Abyssal missile-destroyer flagship into fragments.
The other two torpedoes curved left and right in an arcing pincer toward Abyssal Friedrich der Große.
This was U-47's calculated choice.
Abyssal Zumwalt hit hard but was fragile. If she wasn't assassinated now—this perfect chance Bismarck had bought with her life on the line—she would be a nightmare later.
The other ideal target was Abyssal Friedrich der Große.
She was the second strongest among the Abyssal flagships. Sink her, and the Abyssal Musashi would be in an awkward spot—her side would have a gap in battleships that could actually fight. Either she'd have to field a lower-tier no-name flagship or risk the not-yet-max-level Abyssal Hindenburg.
So Abyssal Friedrich der Große was a prime target.
As for Abyssal Musashi, at level 107 she wasn't someone U-47 could take down with a single surprise strike.
By the numbers: a six-star Abyssal Musashi boasts 350 durability and 180 armor.
A five-star Abyssal Friedrich der Große has 236 durability and 150 armor.
The latter was where a decisive result was possible.
All that thought took less than a blink on the battlefield. The first torpedo had just punched through Abyssal Zumwalt's back when the other two were already at Abyssal Friedrich der Große's rear.
What a flagship indeed.
Friedrich seemed to have eyes in the back of her head. With a twist of her wrist she swept her sword back across her waist; the chains hovering around her cinched tight in an instant, layering into a kind of armor.
Her movement was preternaturally fast. In a spark-and-flash instant she slipped aside and actually dodged the left-hand torpedo.
That's the kind of difficulty you'd expect from dodging a guided missile with your eyes closed—U-47's torpedoes were homing; the only way to avoid them was to slip past in the heartbeat when they grazed you. Even blinking too early would get you hit.
But on this attack there wasn't even time for a blink.
Whether it was luck or flawless technique, one torpedo still smashed squarely into her back.
Like a depleted-uranium penetrator tearing through a main battle tank, the long sword and the chain armor were ripped apart. The long, sharp torpedo drilled into the Abyssal flagship's back and detonated inside.
If the entire warhead's force had vented outward, it would have been an attack stronger than a megaton-class nuclear warhead.
Because the blast was so tightly focused, the damage to Abyssal Friedrich der Große was even more catastrophic.
It was almost as if a nuclear reactor blew inside her body. She threw her head back and screamed, a shrill, skin-crawling sound.
A head-sized hole had been punched clean through her back; her viscera were shredded, and even the pale spine was blasted apart.
U-47's heart jolted—then flooded with bitter regret.
Not sunk. A pity. If only both torpedoes had landed—
But there's no "if." Getting a shot off from this distance was a miracle in itself; there would be no second chance for a kill strike.
Abyssal Hindenburg barreled in almost instantly, throwing herself in front of Abyssal Friedrich der Große as a shield, while Abyssal Musashi whirled around in a fury.
She screamed, ragged with rage. "Sink that submarine!"
U-47 pulled a face and vanished into thin air.
Hiding in space—the submarines' signature way to disappear.
But invisibility wasn't teleportation; in fact, teleporting would be even riskier. Spatial ripples would give her position away at once.
All she could do was run on speed.
With nearly forty Abyssal flagships closing in and hundreds of thousands of Abyssal bombers overhead, escape was next to impossible.
Fortunately, she had allies.
Abyssal Musashi had barely started to lock onto where U-47 might have moved when a sharp pang throbbed between her brows.
An unprecedented dread seized her heart.
Musashi snapped around.
Through the spray churned up by her own bombers' blasts, Bismarck burst from the waves.
Her rigging was intact, her whole body limned in a soft platinum glow that no eyes could look at directly.
Abyssal Musashi bled inside.
Bismarck—she'd still been holding back a trump card like this!
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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