The battlefield's shrieks, cannonades, and crashing waves were swallowed by an even more domineering sound.
"Wooooo——!"
It was a deep rumble, so low it made your teeth ache.
The mist was torn open, and what emerged first was the bow.
It was basically a moving black cliff face.
As it pushed forward, an extremely pungent stench instantly rolled across the battlefield.
This was the smell of industry, proclaiming its sovereignty over these waters.
A hapless pirate brig just happened to be crossing its path.
That ship had once been a hulking predator before merchantmen, but now it didn't even qualify as a speed bump.
The Fernando didn't blow its whistle, didn't slow down, didn't even bother to turn.
"Crack."
The wooden keel turned to powder the instant it touched the steel bow, and tens of thousands of tons of steel kept surging forward on inertia.
