Herald of Steel

As the ships from opposing sides got nearer and nearer, down below the decks, the oarsmen continued to sing loud chorus like chants, appearing wholly unconcerned about the imminent collision.

They only moved their thick muscular arms while bursting songs such as the following from their manly voices,

"Heyyyy oh sailors, race over the deep blue sea,

Oh heyyy oh over the long stretches of the salty seas

We who row through the sweetwater,

Heyyy oh sailors oh heyyy oh"

The careless nature of their song seemed almost surreal, especially given how they were driving themselves straight onto an inevitably doomed collision course with such a surprising nonchalance.

It did not need to be said that if the ships were to be rammed, the most likely casualties would not be the men on the decks, but these men here, men who were placed right inside the belly of the hull.

But that did not seem to be a matter of the slightest concern to these daredevils who obeyed the instructions of their commander without a second's thought, like robots, committing themselves to a cause much greater than themselves.

However the shocking thundering moment of contact never came, as instead of foolishly driving himself in a head to head collision, Lord Kite chose to have his two leading ships take a sudden but subtle turn at the very last seconds, so that they brushed past the enemy, barely missing the main body and only making contact with the outwardly protruding oars.

And here, those thick, wooden paddles, though thick and sturdy they were, though able to bear the great weight and the constant thrashing of the enraged oceans, were unfortunately not even considered an adversary for the huge, heavy body to trireme, which snapped them like thin twigs in a hurricane.

And so as the two ships brushed by either side of this unfortunate Alexander's trireme, all the oars were broken off like matchsticks, leaving the oarsmen inside the ships stunned and the ships crippled.

For the completely green navy under RR, they had never even thought such expert maneuvering was possible, much less seen it, and so thought of it to be almost supernatural in nature.

To many of the men there, it even seemed as if the gods themselves were coming down to bless them, and morale among them fell to nearly a nadir.

The breaking of all the oars in one swift motion also resulted in the ship itself becoming crippled, moored, and stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Made all the worse by the fact that given the men were not expecting a fight, they had not bothered to pack extra oars, so replacing these broken ones was not currently an option.

While any attempt at unfurling the sails to let the wind guide them was moot.

It was currently too congested around them, with too many ships too close to even think about such things.

In fact, just before the contact, both sides had chosen to furl back their sails and tied them to their masts precisely because of this, knowing they would be only getting in the way.

Instead they had to rely on the skills of their rowers to maneuver through the narrow sea lanes while trying to ram each other, preferably with enough force and in the right angle to get a good hit in.

Needless to say, it was a difficult skill to master

And it seemed in a contest of that skill, Lord Kite was poised to win handily.

Thus wishing to take full advantage of this superior position, the large man quickly made his next move, issuing those two forward ships a very simple command, "Board! Take the ship!"

Since the target had been crippled, it was only natural to quickly deliver the next blow and take it out for good.

"Haaahhh!" And as Lord Kite's orders trickled down to the grassroots, his men seemed to very much agree, thus letting out a fierce war cry.

Following the order, both of the much larger ships began to 'dock' against that one unlucky ship, siding up to it from either side in a gentle but aggressive move, hence once again showcasing the rowers' expert seamanship.

It was very hard to make a ship move 'horizontally'.

Then once the ships were got into a good alignment, Lord Kite's men started to quickly throw large, heavy metal hooks tied to thick ropes onto the deck of the enemy, before tugging back at that, thus causing these metallic hooks to get stuck on the ligging and other solid structures in the deck.

Hence, the hooks suddenly started to act as makeshift anchors, making the two ships, or in this case, three becintrinsically linked, thus catching the legionnaires there in a pincher maneuver.

The fish was hooked as the sailors liked to vulgarly say.

All that remained now was to pull the rod back and bag the catch.

Of course, the legionaries present on the decks of the ship did not just let these hooks sink their teeth into them without a fight.

No, instead, when they saw these hooks flying through the air and instantly recognized they were about to be boarded from both sides, the commanders shouted at the top of their voices,

"Cut the ropes. Hack them!"

"Swing your swords, men! Do not let a single one of those hooks get us!"

Most of the soldiers hardly needed that encouragement, as many of them had already started to furiously 'hack' at those thick linen ropes even before receiving this order, manically moving their weapons up and down to try and snap the connection before they ensnared.

While others adopted a more 'refined' posture, preferring to use their swords like giant knives.

So squatting down, they tried cutting the ropes like they were cutting vegetables.

But whichever method they used, it ultimately proved to be too little, too late.

Because for once, swords were hardly the ideal weapon for cutting.

It was much more of a slashing weapon.

A much better option for this endeavor would have been the axe, which would have been able to use its broad sharp head to snap the thick plant fibers.

But since none of the legionaries were equipped with that specialized tool, they made do with what they got.

However this small handicap was hardly the decisive factor in this battle.

A much bigger problem was there simply being too many ropes to cut, as attacking from both sides, the enemy was able to quickly overwhelm the legionaries.

There were simply too many to deal with in a reasonable amount of time.

All of this ultimately meant that enough hooks were able to sink into the decks, thus securing the two attacking ships in place.

With all these set, all that remained was the final preparations before delivering the final blow, the coup de grace, which cin the form of gangplanks.

These gang planks were simply large flat wooden boards, intended to be used as a kind of makeshift bridge between the two ships, in order to allow the soldiers to easily traverse the distance without any risk of falling overboard

Many of them would even have large, iron nails attached to their bottom so that they could pierce the decks of the enemy ships and latch onto the wood with strength, thus making them very hard to dislodge, as one could not simply push the planks away.

All of this was done because even with the ship's oars destroyed and the hooks in place, the natural bobbing of the water still remained, making it very hard for the men to get a good footing and safely jump from ship to ship.

Not to mention they were all carrying heavy gear, such as the armor on their body, and a shield and a sword in their hands.

All while being attacked by the defenders from the opposite side.

All of this meant that simply jumping across the distance was a risky affair, and although there were certainly many daredevils men who did do that, landing themselves right in the middle of the enemy's formation and fighting their way out from there, most sane men preferred these gang planks to give them a stable passage.

And thus with the hooks in place, numerous gang planks began to sink into this isolated ship, from either side, while fierce Heeat family soldiers, garbbed in pitch black, menacingly swung their swords at the legionarries.

These men were clearly veterans as evidenced by their practiced movement, and cheerful howls, with many of them even mocking the other by making various faces and saying things like

"Heh heh! Fresh meat! Come! Cto daddy!"

"*Chu*, *Chu*, *Chu*, here, little doggy, *Chu*, *Chu*, *Chu*,"

"Oh! We are gonna fuck you up! Heh heh!"

"Haha haha, look at these schmucks! Already wetting their pants… haha."

"Heh! Why bother fighting? You are all soon gonna becfish food anyway! Heh heh!"

Such taunts and more were menacingly uttered while the men lined themselves up just behind the planks, appearing to the defending legionaries like sharks drawn to blood,

And despite their long battle experience, these men found their hearts pounding.

They had been in bad situations before, but nothing like this!