The 2nd Battle of the Northern Sea (1)

Admiral Vladislav clenched his fists as the battlefield unfolded in chaos around him. Smoke, fire, and the relentless roar of cannon fire filled the air. The sea was supposed to be his domain, the theatre in which he would annihilate Britannia's navy, but the ocean had twisted into a nightmare.

"Sea mines!" he snarled, watching as towering columns of water erupted across the battlefield. Several Latvian ships were struck, their hulls cracking like eggshells before they sank into the depths.

"Admiral, Britannia's ships have surrounded us from all sides!" a subordinate shouted, running to him.

"What do you mean!?" Vladislav snatched the telescope from his belt and peered through the smoke and mist.

Through the mist and cannon fire, he saw them—hundreds of ships closing in, forming an iron wall. These weren't just the Royal Navy's vessels but those of Britannia's noble houses. Their banners flew high, their cannons primed.