The First Opium War in the original timeline was a war both peculiar and deeply significant.
By the standards of previous centuries, sending an expeditionary force halfway around the globe to fight a war would have been considered outright madness.
Even during the American War of Independence, if America had been located somewhere like France rather than across the Atlantic, Britain's military response would likely have been far more decisive.
But sending troops around the Cape of Good Hope, across India, and all the way to the South China Sea?
From the beginning, such a campaign meant fighting with enormous disadvantages.
Of course, subduing some tiny state would not have been difficult.
But the opponent this time was the Qing Empire, the most powerful state in the East.
European powers had long coveted the enormous Chinese market of nearly four hundred million people, yet none had dared apply real pressure.
Why?
Because few were willing to send an expedition halfway around the world to confront the enormous "lion of the East."
It did not help that Europe had vastly overestimated Qing's real military strength.
At this moment, the only people who truly understood the actual gap in military power between the Qing Empire and the British Empire were the officials in London who had read my detailed reports.
Even so, the commander of the expeditionary force, Admiral George Elliot, appeared determined to proceed cautiously.
"Admiral George Elliot, commander of the expeditionary fleet," the officer introduced himself.
"Thank you for making such a long journey," I replied.
"My name is Killian Gore. Although I've been granted full authority over the diplomatic side of this war, I have no intention of interfering with military command. Operational control rests entirely with you, Admiral."
"I appreciate your consideration."
"That said," I continued, "you may lack some local intelligence. I would like to assist in that regard. Of course, I will not issue orders directly. Any discussions can go through Charles Elliot, who serves as co-commander here."
"That arrangement sounds perfectly acceptable," Admiral George Elliot replied.
"Reliable information is invaluable. The reports you submitted to the government about Qing military strength and weaponry have already been extremely helpful. They've made planning our operations much easier."
Admiral George Elliot tapped a large map spread across the table and began explaining his strategy.
"Thanks to your reports, we now understand roughly how much stronger we are. But calculations remain calculations. Actual combat can always surprise us."
"So I intend to proceed cautiously at first."
"This isn't because I doubt your information," he added politely. "I simply want to eliminate unnecessary risks."
"Of course," I said with a small smile.
"This is war, not a children's game. Caution is only natural."
Once they actually fought Qing forces, his perspective would likely change.
The difference was not merely in weapons.
The gap in tactical doctrine, discipline, and command structure was already enormous.
But those were things one had to see firsthand to truly understand.
"So initially," Admiral George Elliot continued, "we'll observe their response off the coast of Canton. I would prefer to delay any landings if possible."
"We'll survey major coastal cities and strike locations most suitable for establishing a naval blockade."
"If we seal off their maritime trade routes and strangle the coastal cities economically, they'll eventually have no choice but to negotiate."
A classic strategy.
This was the standard method nineteenth-century Western powers used to force Asian states out of isolation.
With overwhelming naval superiority, they could completely blockade maritime routes.
Once cut off from sea trade, Asian economies slowly suffocated.
Sooner or later, the affected nation had no choice but to come to the negotiating table.
And at that point, the Western powers forced unequal treaties upon them.
Nearly every Western nation had opened trade with Asia this way.
Even the United States would later use the same method to force Japan to open its ports.
"However," Admiral George Elliot said, "there is one matter I am uncertain about."
"If we approach Canton, how do you think Qing will respond?"
"My opinion hardly matters," I said lightly.
"I have no military experience."
"Perhaps," the admiral replied, "but according to conventional military thinking, they should avoid direct naval engagement."
"They would likely block the river mouth and rely on coastal artillery for defense."
"Even if their cannons are inferior, attacking fortified positions from ships carries risks."
"But…" he hesitated slightly.
"Your reports suggest that Qing logic often differs from ours. I suspect you understand them better than I do."
I smiled faintly.
"In my opinion, the answer is simple."
"You assume they will avoid battle because you correctly recognize the gap between our forces."
"If Qing leadership also understands that gap, they'll remain on the defensive."
"But if they don't…"
"Then they'll come out and fight."
Historically, Lin Zexu had panicked after witnessing the Battle of Chuenpi and realizing how weak Qing naval power truly was.
He had attempted to purchase modern weapons from American merchants and strengthened coastal defenses.
But in this timeline, the Battle of Chuenpi had never happened.
And the emperor—who historically favored caution—was now furious and eager for confrontation.
Even in the original history, Qing had attempted naval combat after negotiations collapsed.
With a little provocation, they would likely take the bait.
Admiral George Elliot nodded thoughtfully.
"That makes sense."
"In that case, we'll probe their defenses first."
"Coincidentally, we also need real combat data for a newly constructed warship."
"If battle occurs early, it will be convenient."
"The Nemesis, you mean?" I asked.
"So it's already completed."
"It was originally scheduled for construction this year," Admiral George Elliot said.
"But once your reports reached Parliament, the schedule was accelerated."
"They barely finished it in time for this campaign."
"Even now," he admitted, "I'm not entirely certain how devastating it will prove in actual combat."
The irony was hard to miss.
A warship launched to avenge merchants supposedly killed by Qing had been named Nemesis—the goddess of vengeance.
Even with my shallow knowledge of naval technology, I knew just how alien this ship was in the current era.
Its specifications were impressive enough on paper.
But those details weren't what mattered most.
The Nemesis combined two revolutionary elements:
A steam engineAnd an iron hull
Against Qing's wooden junk ships, such a vessel was practically impossible to sink.
Admiral George Elliot and the engineers who built the ship likely understood its theoretical advantages.
But theory and reality were never identical.
Commanders always had to account for uncertainty.
At this moment, neither Britain nor Qing truly knew what would happen once the fleets clashed.
Qing believed sheer numbers might compensate for inferior technology.
Admiral George Elliot knew numerical superiority could not be ignored either.
But once they saw old cannonballs bouncing harmlessly off iron plating…
We would see whether they still believed that.
* * *
Once Lin Zexu became convinced that war was inevitable, his first priority was strengthening defenses as much as possible.
Massive chains were stretched across the river mouth.
Cannons were dragged into position and mounted along the coast.
Yet reality fell far short of his plans.
Lin Zexu had originally hoped to purchase modern artillery from American merchants.
Unfortunately, circumstances allowed him to acquire only about twenty guns.
He had wanted three hundred.
But rumors that Qing forces had killed British merchants and burned their ships had made American traders reluctant to deal with him.
"Cowards," Lin Zexu muttered bitterly.
"Men who would sell even their own families for silver suddenly grow cautious."
Still, time remained on his side.
If defenses continued to strengthen, the British might hesitate to attack.
But the real problem came from Beijing.
"First they told me to pressure the British aggressively," Lin Zexu grumbled.
"Now they say I must bear responsibility for starting the war."
The emperor had issued strict orders.
Once the size of the British fleet was confirmed, and if Qing could deploy at least twice as many ships, they were to engage the enemy aggressively.
Beijing feared that if British warships roamed freely along the coast, they might devastate Chinese cities.
Unlike Guangdong, many other provinces had not yet stockpiled sufficient weapons.
If Britain sailed north and struck provinces like Zhejiang, resistance would be minimal.
Therefore Lin Zexu was ordered to stop them here.
The responsibility fell squarely on his shoulders.
Refusing the emperor's command was impossible.
Investigations soon revealed the approximate strength of the British fleet.
Five steamships emitting smoke.
Sixteen additional warships.
And among the smoking vessels, witnesses described one particularly strange iron ship.
In total, roughly twenty ships.
Qing possessed more than fifty.
Numerically, they held a two-and-a-half-to-one advantage.
In theory, that meant they had no choice but to fight.
Still…
Lin Zexu remembered the British warships he had seen before.
And he could not shake the feeling that even double the numbers might not be enough.
"Governor Lin Zexu, there's no need to worry," one officer reassured him.
"No matter how powerful their ships are, they will eventually break once our cannons strike them."
"The question," Lin Zexu replied dryly, "is whether we can actually hit them."
"Our fleet is twice their size. We'll overwhelm them with numbers."
"If necessary, one of our ships can absorb their fire while another closes the distance and fires."
What a brilliant strategy.
Lin Zexu swallowed the sarcastic remark rising to his lips.
Perhaps, as a civilian official, he simply failed to understand military logic.
In truth, he wanted nothing more than to lock the river defenses and wait until the British withdrew in frustration.
But that option no longer existed.
If reports reached Beijing that Lin Zexu was avoiding battle, he would be dismissed instantly.
And one of the many ambitious officials waiting for his position would take his place.
There were no choices left.
All he could do now was pray that Qing's navy could achieve something through sheer numbers.
* * *
The Qing fleet, filled with righteous fury and determination to expel the wicked Western barbarians, waited for the enemy to appear off the coast of Canton.
At last—
British ships emerged on the horizon.
"Attack!"
"Drive the barbarians away!"
From a distance, Lin Zexu watched through a telescope as Qing wooden ships advanced toward the British fleet.
From afar, the scene felt strangely unsettling.
Like eggs being hurled toward a wall.
But once an arrow left the bow, it could not be recalled.
Then—
A formation of nearly twenty black warships, belching smoke, appeared through the mist.
"…Can numbers alone really capture ships like that?"
Even the fragile hope Lin Zexu held—that numerical superiority might save them—began flickering like a candle in the wind.
And as so often happened…
His worst fears proved correct.
BOOM!
"One ship sunk!"
"Stay calm! Return fire!"
"It's impossible! They're too far away!"
"Idiots! Then get closer!"
"We can't close the distance!"
"The barbarian ships are too fast!"
Enemy cannon fire struck from impossible angles and impossible distances.
Qing ships shattered one after another.
The scene unfolding before Lin Zexu's eyes felt almost unreal.
"…Heavens."
With that quiet gasp—
The historic naval battle had begun.