Over a hundred warships sliced across the ocean surface, presenting a truly magnificent and awe-inspiring sight.
Unfortunately, it was only once they had truly set out that many of them realized long-distance seafaring was nothing like what they had imagined.
Provisions alone for over five thousand people were a massive problem at sea, and on top of that, illness and restless emotions were constantly wearing down
Fortunately, the Crimson Tiger Pirate
Tifa had also deployed all of her apprentice priests across every warship, using them to bolster morale.
Though they had no divine magic to aid them, this served as a rigorous test of the apprentice priests' abilities.
"Our fresh water and food supplies are nearly exhausted. Launching a long-range campaign at a time like this is practically a colossal gamble..."
Leylin stood at the bow of the largest ship, the Crimson Tiger, gazing out at the boundless blue sea, and let out a soft sigh.
"Fortunately, at our current speed, we should be able to reach Bankzi Island before the supplies run completely dry..."
A trace of crimson flickered through Isabelle's eyes as she stood behind Leylin. After so many years as the captain of the Crimson Tiger Pirate Crew, the noble young lady she had once been seemed to have died long ago. All that remained was this fierce and cunning female pirate — and only in Leylin's presence would Isabelle occasionally let slip a hint of girlish charm.
"Forage for provisions along the way? That's far too unreliable!"
Leylin shook his head, catching the unspoken implication behind her words. "We have limited manpower at the moment, and every single person is precious — we can't afford to waste them recklessly... And that kind of tactic is far too risky..."
Even in Leylin's previous life, a large-scale amphibious landing was a gamble even with cover — let alone in his current circumstances.
"What do you have in mind?"
Isabelle looked at Leylin, who had already produced an old nautical chart.
Bankzi Island sat right in the center, though the scale was rather exaggerated — still, it would have to do.
"We'll make a half-circle detour first — here!"
Leylin pointed to a cluster of islands surrounding Bankzi Island. Given that Bankzi itself was a colossal landmass the size of two or three kingdoms, it naturally had its own chain of smaller surrounding islands.
"You mean... take Chihuahua Island first as a supply point?"
"Mm! And it seems there's a tribe of tens of thousands here — just right for our troops to get some practice. It'll also serve as a chance to shake down their coordination..."
Although he had confidence in the combat strength of both sides, building effective cooperation between them wasn't something that could be accomplished in a day or two. Leylin could only test it gradually through real combat.
"I understand..."
This steady, deliberate strategy immediately revealed to Isabel the depth of Leylin's resolve, so she went to make preparations without delay.
...
Chihuahua Island lay close to Bankzi Island, so the native tribes settled on it were likewise vassals of the Sacatecas Empire. However, the separation by ocean afforded this tribe a great deal of independence.
After all, with the natives' woeful shipbuilding technology, using canoes to conquer this place would likely require felling every last giant tree along the coast — and even that might not suffice.
The emperor may well have harbored such thoughts, but the other nobles and priests would surely have advised their sovereign against it with admirable wisdom.
Under these circumstances, the tribe was getting by well enough — far better than other tribes that were periodically squeezed for tribute by the empire.
At this moment, the tribe's great chieftain, Abbas, was lounging comfortably under the shade of an enormous banana-leaf parasol held by servant girls, sampling an assortment of tropical fruits.
Abbas had very dark skin and an extremely corpulent frame, layer upon layer of fat sagging from his body. The whole effect was rather like an oversized shar-pei pig, though his neck was long and slender — a mark of all the nobility. His lips bore piercings connected by iron rings, and his face was smeared with so many layers of paint that his original features were entirely hidden.
"Disaster!"
Just as Abbas was enjoying the ministrations of a young native woman's dexterous hands, another figure — an old man as gaunt and dry as kindling — came rushing over.
"Oh? My wise high priest, what business could make you so hasty?"
The high priest Abbas addressed exuded a potent mixture of incense and lamp oil. Atop his head sat a colorful feathered crown that was a full two or three meters long, a few of its slender plumes twisting in dangerous arcs through the air.
"O great chieftain, sovereign of all Chihuahua, the ancestral spirit we venerate has been seized by wrath and requires you to come personally to appease it..."
The high priest knelt upon the ground, his voice heavy.
"The wrath of our great ancestral spirit? Was our previous sacrifice insufficient?" At this kind of news, even Abbas lost all desire for continued indulgence. He shoved the servant girl aside, his eyes — half-hidden in folds of fat — fixing on the high priest.
"No! I believe it is more akin to a warning!" The high priest's forehead bore a crust of dried blood; clearly the preceding events had shaken him badly.
"Take me there!" Abbas waved his hand, and several natives who looked like monkeys immediately picked up his chair and carried him off.
Less than an hour later, nearly all the natives of the entire tribe had gathered together, watching the high priest's performance at the center.
Around them, some kind of narcotic incense and smoke was burning. Abbas, as the chief, had unusually donned ceremonial attire — a cloak woven from the pelts of five-colored beasts — and stood at the front of the procession. The high priest kept dancing a strange dance, his body twitching as though he were about to have an epileptic seizure.
At the very center of the ritual, on a crude beast-hide banner, faint threads of dark red and gold had begun to appear.
"Great ancestral spirit... what revelation do you wish to give me?" Abbas knelt and prostrated himself directly, and the other natives followed, kneeling all across the ground.
Boom!
Amid the prostrations of the crowd, a massive cloud of mist rose from the center of the altar. The image of some creature flashed past, letting out several roars whose meaning was impossible to decipher.
"The ancestral spirit has issued a warning!"
At that moment, the high priest leaped up as though he had received divine revelation.
"In the west... an enemy unlike any before will appear. They command fortresses of steel upon the sea, bringing slaughter and death... They are..."
A layer of white foam spilled from the high priest's mouth.
"What are they?" Abbas seized the high priest by the neck, turning the man's face purple-red, as though he would choke to death at any moment.
"They are... demons with white skin!"
Having spat out those words, the high priest collapsed unconscious.
"Demons with white skin?" Abbas stroked his chin. "Pass the word — all warriors, take up your spears and stone blades and wait at the western coastline..."
The natives' vocabulary and knowledge were extremely limited; even the great chief could hardly grasp what "demons with white skin" truly meant. But he knew enemies were coming, and that was enough.
"Ohhh!" Spurred by the ancestral spirit's manifestation, the tribe's young warriors assembled at an unprecedented speed.
Abbas, leading his men, was brimming with fighting spirit. "I'll skin the scalp of the enemy leader and hang it on my wall as a trophy of my valor..."
......
"Hmm? It seems our attack has been discovered..."
Linley, standing on the deck, furrowed his brow slightly.
"Though at least this is only a small tribe — the nature spirit they worship can't be more than divine-tier at most..."
"Isabel! Tifa!"
Gazing at the native warriors gathered along the coastline, Linley spoke in a calm, detached tone.
"Present!"
"I'm handing command over to you. You don't need to concern yourselves with anything else — just take the whole of Chiwawa Island. Make sure to seal off the sea lanes and don't let a single one escape..."
As for the fact that they had come to invade, naturally it was better to delay discovery for as long as possible.
Having issued his orders, Linley shot straight into the air and charged toward a certain divine existence.
Having assumed command, Isabel drew the Crimson Dragon longsword from her hip and regarded the native warriors massing along the coastline with undisguised contempt — their wooden spears, stone knives, and of course, their dugout canoes.
"Open fire! Show them what we're capable of!"
Isabel roared the command. The natives were so poorly equipped and numbered fewer than two thousand — they were nothing but a fat, easy prize.
"Kill them!" The other pirates, eyes burning red, let out terrifying battle cries from the warships.
A barrage of cannonfire rained down upon the native tribe's positions in an instant.
The savage explosions and the agonized screams ringing in his ears plunged Abbas into a state of stunned disbelief.
"Ancient ancestors! A great fortress from beyond the sea... and this divine fire? What in the world have we provoked?"
Warships bore down on them from every direction while their own canoes capsized one after another. Even the guards at his side began fleeing in terrified wails, and the great chieftain could only let out a roar of utter despair.
And in the very next moment, the old chieftain's head was cleaved from his shoulders by a war blade.
"Heh! This fat pig was obviously some high-ranking officer — maybe there's a reward..." Along with those words, every last gold and silver ornament on the chieftain's corpse was stripped clean in an instant.
"So this is the tribe's guardian spirit? It possesses divinity, but its intelligence is quite low..."
Linley gazed at the divine creature before him — something resembling a bird of flame — and the faint glow of the Chip flickered through his eyes.
"Your followers are being slaughtered by me, and your domain's power is weakening. Submit to me now! I might still grant you a way to survive!"
Linley directly transmitted a wave of information using mental transmission, but the response he received was the furious roar of the flame bird.
"Chirp! Chirp!"
Accompanied by that piercing cry, a mass of golden flames immediately engulfed Linley, and the surrounding air instantly distorted and surged.