Chapter 239. Great Battle
As the decisive showdown drew near, the atmosphere on the island grew tense.
Inside the Explorers Association of Hope Island, people gathered around a simple brass bearing machine.
It was a telegraph. The groups clustered together around it were explorers who weren't out on a voyage. Each wore expressions of anxiety and anticipation.
There was no way everyone would be at peace. They had just received the latest news: in just two hours, Governor Julio and Governor Swann were set to crossfire.
The upcoming war would impact every individual in the Northern Seas, and the outcome of it was deeply intertwined with their lives.
As the seconds ticked by, the silence was so palpable that only the sound of collective breathing could be heard. Just then, the telegraph came to life.
Tick-tick-tick-tick...
Accompanied by a ticking sound, the machine spat out a stream of paper inscribed with a series of dots and dashes.
"Anyone who knows Morse code? Decipher it quickly! What's happening?" Anxious voices called out, demanding updates.
"Me! I did this before I became a sailor," a short man with a red beard jumped onto the table holding the telegram. Picking up the paper, he scanned the contents, and his face fluctuated between shock and hesitation, but he spoke not a single word.
His silence frustrated the captains gathered around him.
"Shorty! Will you speak up already? Stop dawdling! Do you want a taste of my bullet?" someone roared.
"Hurry up! What's written on it?" Another echoed.
Just as the tension escalated with each passing moment, the short man finally parted his lips. "Swann ambushed Julio's fleet!"
His words immediately silenced the noisy hall, and only his resonant voice continued echoing through the room.
"The battle took place three miles south of Spider Islands. Swann hid underwater on his Ronker. He used the same light beam that killed Governor Daniel of Whereto to sweep horizontally across the fleet from below the surface.
"Governor Julio's Invincible Fleet suffered heavy casualties. Lying in ambush, Swann's fleet closed in immediately. They've started fighting."
The short man paused in his report and discarded the paper in his hand. He then drew another from the telegraph machine.
"Governor Julio has started his counterattack. He charged alone toward the Ronker. Many descended from the Ronker in an attempt to stop Governor Julio, but they were swiftly wiped out."
"It was a trap! While Governor Julio was entangled by those men, a beam of light engulfed them all!"
A collective gasp filled the room as everyone tensed at the unfolding drama.
Just when they thought this would be the end of the battle, the telegraph machine started beeping again.
"Governor Julio is alive! He somehow evaded the attack with some unknown method!" the short man reported. "He's truly deserving of the title of the strongest governor in the entire seascape!!"
Everyone heaved a sigh of relief as they hung on every word relayed by the short man. They felt as though they were witnessing the battle firsthand.
"He was the last man standing in the boiling sea! Ignoring the surrounding warships engaged in combat, he headed straight for the Ronker's massive legs!"
Across all the islands in the seascape, telegram after telegram was spat out of the telegraph machines, and each piece of paper was quickly interpreted. Everyone was concerned about this unprecedented war, and their hearts rose and fell with the tides of the epic battle.
The short man interpreted the encoded telegram messages for three hours straight. Picking up the next piece of paper, he felt as though his throat was hoarse and burning. Unknowingly, the floor around him was littered with discarded papers.
"I need water; my throat's parched," the short man complained.
"Here's some liquor! Keep reading!" A leather flask was thrown his way.
After gulping down several mouthfuls of liquor and casually wiping his mouth with a sleeve, the short man prepared to continue. Yet, the moment his eyes laid on the piece of paper in his hands, he froze.
"What is it? Spit!" someone bellowed.
"In...incredible! Governor Julio has successfully gotten on Ronker!"
Hearing this, the hall erupted in cheers of excitement; the roof felt as though it would be torn off by the sailors' enthusiasm.
They all understood what it meant for Governor Julio, the only one in the seascape with a power level of 15, to get on the Ronker. It meant that he wasn't far from twisting off Swann's head.
Once that happened, the pressure boring down on everyone would dissipate; peace and tranquility would once again return to the Northern Seas.
"Ronker is on fire! It's belching smoke! Julio's attack has worked! I bet he's about to capture Swann," the red-beared man continued.
Just as the crowd held their breaths in unison, the telegraph machine cackled to life with another update.
"Swann crawled out of the Ronker. He's dragging something... It's Governor Julio's corpse! Julio is dead!"
Disbelief and denial erupted amongst the captains.
"Impossible! This can't be true!" a captain exclaimed.
"Exactly! Everyone in the seascape knows that the governor of Albion Isles is far from powerful! How can he possibly kill Julio?!" another echoed the same sentiment.
"I don't believe a single word! It must be a lie!"
Amidst the uproar, the telegraph machine beeped again, and the room fell into silence as they waited for the red-bearded man to continue the interpretation.
"Governor Julio isn't dead! He emerges from the body of a crewman and is covered in blood! He's holding something... It's a book—"
The red-bearded man paused abruptly. As everyone around him urged him to continue, he flipped the paper in his hands.
The telegram messages ended abruptly. What should have been a series of dots and lines had been marred with random, chaotic marks. It was as though a sudden interruption had occurred when the sender was typing the message.
"Hold on, let me check the situation," the short man said before he rhythmically pressed a brass lever on the telegraph.
Everyone waited in abated breaths. However, no further messages came through. It was as though all communication had been cut off.
All across the seascape, every island continuously sent queries to Spider Islands in an attempt to get further updates on the war, but all of them met the same silence, as though something was blocking the transmissions.
Of course, in a huge battle like this, there were bound to be some escapees from the battlefield. These people managed to return to their respective islands, and eventually, the latest news arrived at Hope Island.
And the governor was always the first to receive any latest updates.
"What? They've called a truce?" Charles stood up in shock. He had anticipated various outcomes and also made plans for all possible scenarios. However, this was one outcome that he wasn't prepared for.
"According to the telegram messages, it seemed like Governor Julio had used an unusually powerful relic. Both sides have suffered heavy losses, and they've begun retreating," the silver-haired steward reported.
Just as Charles was pondering how to maximize this unexpected turn of events to his benefit, the steward stepped forward with another piece of news.
"Governor, the Divine Light Order is at the door with a massive stone statue. They request for an audience."
The Pope is backing Swann. Why is that fellow seeking me out now? Charles wondered about the Pope's impeccable timing of appearance.
This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦