CHAPTER 303: CHAPTER 303: THE SEA OF IRON AND FIRE

Northern Ocean — 24 Hours Later.

The skies above the northern waters of the Indiana Empire were thick with clouds, stained in grey and violet. The wind carried salt, silence, and the scent of war.

At the heart of the sea floated not one fleet—but three.

The 28th Patrol Fleet, now joined by reinforcements from the 6th and 13th Naval Commands, formed a massive naval shield stretching across the horizon.

Row upon row of ironclads, spirit-forged cruisers, and arcane war barges sat in perfect formation—an iron wall on sacred water.

In total, over 600 ships now stood under the imperial banner.

This was not a patrol.

This was a declaration.

Flagship of the Indiana Navy

Fleet Admiral Varun Sen stood once again at the bow of his war barge, but now he was no longer alone in command. Above him flew the double-headed sun banner, signifying the presence of a High Admiral.

Group Admiral Devgan Arvata, a legendary strategist from the Western Command, had taken overall control of the fleet. His ship, the Divine Ram, floated beside the Vaishra Dawn.

The Divine Ram was a Dragon Carrier of the Nagaratha class—colossal in scale, its bulk rivaled that of a floating island. Designed as both a command vessel and a mobile aerial fortress, it housed between 2,000 to 2,500 personnel and held deployment bays for up to thirty aerial beasts, including Thunderbirds, Wyverns, and Storm Kites. The carrier served as a central node for battlefield coordination, embedded with Spirit Beacons that amplified long-range communication and strategic spellcasting. It was the keystone of aerial dominance, fusing traditional military discipline with arcane warfare.

Bridge — Divine Ram

"They’ve held their line," Varun said, eyes narrowed at the distant enemy silhouettes. "Same position. Same silence."

"They’re not here to negotiate," Devgan replied without turning. His voice was calm, clear. "They want us to act first. Let the burden of justification fall upon us."

He gestured to his signal officer. "Time?"

"Twenty-three hours, fifty-seven minutes since our final warning was issued."

Devgan gave a curt nod. "Then we wait three more minutes."

Across the decks of the Indiana fleet:

Spirit cannons hummed quietly, glowing with blue runes.

Archers in gold and crimson armor lined the decks, their elemental arrows ready—fire for air, ice for hull, lightning for mages.

Beast Tamers, clad in sea-leather and shell armor, whispered to their companions—massive manta-wolves, kelp serpents with bioluminescent fins, and armored storm turtles that could crack enemy hulls with tidal pulses.

Above, a dozen aerial units circled—riders soul-bound to Thunderbirds and Wind-Kites, armed with lance-spells and glide bombs.

Below the waves, three submersible craft carved in the shape of giant fish—experimental vessels powered by ley-energy—began to move into flanking positions.

Every level of the sea—above, on, and beneath—was claimed by Indiana.

Yet the Bernardian fleet held still.

Command Deck — Bernardian Carrier Yorktown

Admiral Akari sat on the control throne, arms crossed. His eyes remained on the transparent tactical display projected in the air before him.

"Contact line hasn’t moved," his second-in-command reported.

"Good," Akari said. "Let them make the mistake."

"We’ve confirmed multiple beast units among their fleet."

Akari smiled faintly, voice as calm as the sea’s surface. "Let them bring monsters. We brought extinction."

A new alert blinked on the console.

Twenty-four hours complete.

Akari stood. "All units. Prepare countermeasures. Load magnetic disruptors. Fire only on command."

Northern Ocean — Indiana Fleet Bridge

Group Admiral Devgan turned to Varun. "They’ve made no move. No retreat. We gave them their time."

Varun asked nothing.

Devgan looked to the clouds above, then to the enemy line.

"Signal: Red Flag."

The signal officer hesitated. "Group Admiral—confirmation?"

Devgan’s voice sharpened.

"If we hesitate now, we hand them the initiative for every battle to come. We strike—not in fury, but in test. Send ten. Only ten. Our fastest."

He turned to Varun. "We learn before we bleed."

"Targets?"

"Cripple, not destroy. Aim for rudders, towers, and sightlines. Let us see what they truly are."

Minutes Later

Ten warships broke formation, speeding toward the Bernardian line. Spirit engines roared to life, spewing mist and flame across the sea.

Above them, Thunderbirds shrieked through the air, diving toward the enemy line with riders leaning low over their saddles, elemental lances crackling in hand.

The war began—not with fire, but with silence breaking.

And then—

The Bernardian fleet moved.

Until that moment, they had stood like monuments. Now, they came to life with terrifying efficiency.

One by one, red strobes blinked to life across their hulls.

Communications arrays rotated. Turrets rose from concealed compartments. Defensive flaps opened, revealing missile bays and sensor suites.

Radar-guided tracking systems locked onto incoming vessels.

And then—

The sea exploded.

And in the next second—

The sea exploded.

White beams.

Three of Indiana’s forward ships vanished in a flash—reduced to burning fragments.

The ocean boiled where they had stood.

A Thunderbird was hit mid-flight. It fell, screaming, feathers burning like paper.

Screams. Flames.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Varun bellowed.

Devgan’s face was deathly pale.

"Those weapons... Impossible."

He snapped around. "Pull them back. All skirmishers. No full assault."

"But sir—!"

"DO IT!"

Command Ship — Yorktown

Akari watched without emotion.

"Four shots. Three kills. One crippled. Precision acceptable."

His aide nodded. "Shall we continue the volley?"

Akari shook his head. "Not yet. Let them retreat. Let the fear grow."

He turned back to the map. "They’ll return with fire. And we’ll answer with silence."

Back in the Indiana Line

The skirmish ships pulled back, one barely floating, smoke trailing from its broken masts. Medics rushed to stabilize the wounded.

Group Admiral Devgan turned to his officers. "We now know."

He walked to the central glyph altar and placed both palms down.

A glowing sigil appeared in the air.

"To the Emperor."

Message prepared:

Contact made. Hostile confirmed. Casualties: light, but destructive potential is high.

Bernardian vessels use unknown weapons of extreme precision and velocity.

Recommend: Full naval engagement not advised without arcane support.

Request immediate authorization for magical reinforcements from Temple Guard and Sky Legion.

He paused, then added:

They are not bluffing.