The moment the massive fleet appeared on the horizon, the balance of the battlefield shattered completely.
The Dutch admiral's face went pale as if someone had drained all the blood out of it. His hands trembled as he gripped the railing, eyes wide with disbelief.
"That's… too many. How can there be this many ships?"
"It's Zheng Zhilong," someone shouted in panic. "That's Zheng Zhilong's fleet!"
Of course they recognized him.
Zheng Zhilong had once been their man, their carefully cultivated middleman in the East, the bridge between European trade and Chinese waters, the one they thought they could control. Then he had turned around, slapped their expectations across the face, and the result had been the brutal clash at Liaoluo Bay.
Now he was back.
And this time, he was not alone.
"And look at those ships with the five-colored flags," another officer cried out. "There are so many of those devil ships!"
That was the final straw.
"Retreat!"
The Dutch did not hesitate even for a heartbeat. Their first instinct, honed by survival and refined by experience, kicked in immediately.
Sell the allies.
Run for your life.
Their ships turned south without any shame, abandoning the Spanish fleet as cleanly as if they had never been allies at all.
The Spanish, for their part, were not fools either. They wanted to run just as badly.
But there was a problem.
Their base, San Salvador City, was in the north of the island.
They could not run south.
And now, the northern sea was completely blocked by the incoming armada.
Which meant they were trapped.
"Damn it," the Spanish admiral roared, face twisting in fury as he ordered his fleet to follow the Dutch anyway. "Signal them. Tell them we are heading to their port. We regroup there."
Flags went up.
Messages were sent.
The response came back just as quickly.
The Dutch did not even bother to hide their indifference.
"Who cares about you?"
The Spanish exploded.
"Eres una inútil!"
"Don't understand, don't understand," the Dutch replied lazily.
"Eres una gilipollas!"
"Speak human language."
"Fuera!"
Before the argument could escalate any further, a cannonball slammed into the Spanish ship, cutting their shouting short in the most efficient way possible.
Boom.
The war had resumed.
The leading immortal ships surged forward at full speed, their engines of absurdity and physics-defying design pushing them across the sea faster than any traditional vessel had any right to move.
On the deck stood two figures.
Jiang Cheng.
And the Water Combat-type Dao Xuan Tianzun.
Behind them, dozens of ships followed closely, forming a high-mobility strike group that closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
Within moments, they were already behind the fleeing Spanish galleons.
"You like boarding actions, don't you?" someone shouted with a grin.
"Then let's board."
"Whaling cannon, fire."
At the bow of the leading immortal ship, a strange device rotated into position, clicking into place with mechanical precision.
This was not something the villagers had built.
This was a "gift" that came with the ship itself.
A modern toy, manufactured by Ningyang Toys Company, originally designed as a harmless whaling harpoon for children to play with, complete with a blunt plastic head so nobody would get hurt.
Except now, scaled up to this battlefield, harmless was no longer part of the equation.
"Fire."
A sailor slammed the trigger.
A soft hum echoed through the air.
What could casually shoot several meters in the real world now launched with terrifying force in this scaled environment, the massive plastic harpoon streaking across the sea like a missile.
Thud.
It struck the towering sterncastle of a Spanish galleon and embedded itself deep into the structure.
Click.
Barbs unfolded.
Locked.
The Spanish sailors stared at it in horror.
"What… what is that thing?"
They did not have time to think.
Because the next moment—
"Retrieve."
A button was pressed.
The motor inside the device spun to life, the nylon rope coiling back rapidly, pulling the two ships closer together.
The Spanish panicked.
"Cut the rope! Cut it!"
Blades struck the line.
And bounced.
The rope was braided nylon, each fiber absurdly thick at this scale, twisted together like an unbreakable braid. Cutting it with their tools was like trying to slice steel with a kitchen knife.
The distance between the ships shrank rapidly.
The Spanish screamed.
Just moments ago, they had been eager to board.
Now?
Facing over two hundred enemy ships?
Boarding was suicide.
"Run!"
"We can't!"
"The rope won't break!"
"Even if it does, we are slower than them!"
Before they could even finish arguing, several immortal ships had already surrounded them.
And then—
Grenades.
Dozens of them.
They rained down onto the sterncastle like a storm, explosions chaining together, tearing apart everything in sight.
At the same time, other immortal ships were hunting the remaining enemy vessels.
Harpoons flew one after another, locking onto targets, dragging them in.
One ship caught meant one ship lost.
It did not take long.
All ten ships were surrounded.
The Western sailors died, surrendered, or simply collapsed under the overwhelming pressure.
The battle was over.
---
By evening, the golden sunlight spread across the beach like a warm blanket.
The massive fleet anchored along the coast near Nantun City, though the small harbor could not possibly hold so many ships. Many had to scatter into nearby bays, hiding among the natural inlets.
The Water Combat-type Dao Xuan Tianzun jumped.
Not climbed.
Not descended.
Jumped straight off the side of the ship.
From that height, a normal man would have broken his legs at best.
But Li Dao Xuan landed with a soft thud, sand bursting outward beneath his feet, perfectly steady.
The people of Gao Family Village had seen this many times.
They barely reacted.
The captured Dutch and Spanish, however, completely lost their minds.
"That is not human!"
"That is a demon!"
"I told you, these are ships of Satan, and he is their lord!"
Li Dao Xuan heard the noise, though the language barrier made the words incomprehensible. Still, tone alone was enough.
Fear.
Pure fear.
He turned his head toward them and smiled.
A warm, friendly, harmless smile.
The kind that would make anyone lower their guard.
For half a second, the prisoners relaxed.
Then—
His head rotated.
A full 360 degrees.
And then calmly rotated back into place.
Still smiling.
"AAAAAAAAAH!"
Several Western prisoners foamed at the mouth and collapsed on the spot.
Li Dao Xuan felt quite pleased with himself.
Just a little mischief.
Totally worth it.
Surrounded by a group of commanders, he walked into Nantun City.
"This place is well built," he said with a nod, clearly satisfied. "Yao Xingjuan, Zheng Chenggong, Shi Lang, the three of you did well. Holding this place with only three ships until the main force arrived was no easy task."
Praise from Dao Xuan Tianzun.
That was not something you heard every day.
The three men immediately felt their backs straighten, energy surging through their bodies as if they had just been injected with pure motivation.
At that moment, another figure approached.
The king of the Dadu Kingdom.
Ganza Xia Alami.
He stepped forward slowly, his staff tapping lightly against the ground, his expression solemn and dignified as he faced Li Dao Xuan.
They did not share a language.
They did not share a culture.
But recognizing a leader?
That required no translation.
With a single glance, Ganza Xia Alami understood.
This man was their king.
And as a king himself, he would show proper respect.
Li Dao Xuan smiled.
Words were unnecessary.
Instead, he decided to give a gift.
And being who he was, there was only one appropriate choice.
Food.
With a flick of his hand, he produced a spicy strip.
Ganza Xia Alami took it, studied it briefly, then tossed it into his mouth.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
"AAOOOHHHH!"
His entire face twisted.
His eyes widened.
His body trembled.
It was spicy.
Unbelievably spicy.
And yet,
Addictive.
So addictive that his soul itself seemed to be dragged into it, unable to resist, unable to escape.
"What… is this…"
He gasped, voice shaking, tears forming in his eyes.
"This… is incredible."