Chapter 235 : Hand-cranked Mechanical Computer
Chapter 235: Hand-cranked Mechanical Computer
“First-round hit… this luck… there’s no need to adjust the trajectory anymore. This is fate.”
Laplade withdrew her gaze from the observation device. Her ash-gray beast ears twitched slightly as she turned her head to look at the adjutant beside her. “Maintain continuous cross-calculation of position with our comrades in the air. Strive to wipe out this vanguard force within two salvos.”
“Yes! Captain!”
Returning to the command platform, she glanced again at the sea chart laid out on the table. Her neat ash-gray shoulder-length hair was pressed flat beneath her naval cap, and the scar at the corner of her eye, combined with her height of over 1.8 meters, gave her an indescribable heroic aura.
After years of recovery, the younger generation had begun to gradually step into key positions across the Alliance. During her service, Laplade had always been fierce and daring, suffering no shortage of injuries. Her only shortcoming was her relatively short military career.
However, this flaw had instead become an advantage in the current Alliance. The Alliance military valued only ability, not seniority, allowing her to naturally rise to become the captain of a new-type main battleship.
Her attention drifting to the combat map was not due to arrogance, but because under the current circumstances, the enemy had already lost all possibility of victory.
The entire enemy fleet was under surveillance by aerial radar early-warning airships. Every tactical move was exposed, and they had already been bracketed in the very first round of artillery fire.
The main guns of a Dreadnought-class battleship had a range of up to 20,000 meters. Combined with three-dimensional cross-rangefinding and real-time trajectory correction data from mechanical computers, she truly could not see how this battle could be lost. In fact, failing to annihilate the enemy completely would already be considered a poor result.
Yes—mechanical computers. And small, hand-cranked ones at that.
On the left side were sections for addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. One only needed to set the upper dial to the desired number—for example, 11—then select the addition symbol “+” on the left, input the next number, 22, and after turning the crank once, the result 33 would appear.
This small device greatly reduced the computational burden for rangefinding and fire-control positions, while also significantly increasing the ship’s response speed, allowing it to better achieve the goal of striking first.
Mathematics was a discipline that was easy for those who understood it and insurmountable for those who did not—it had a high barrier to entry. The appearance of the hand-cranked mechanical computer allowed more people to take on such roles, ensuring that the Alliance’s rapid expansion would no longer be constrained by a shortage of skilled personnel.
With each successive round of bombardment, the vanguard flagship of the coalition fleet was struck repeatedly. Its already heavily damaged shield generator completely failed, and a shell smashed into the turret’s ammunition magazine.
The coalition sailors had not strictly followed the Alliance Navy’s regulations regarding sealed ammunition delivery conduits. As a result, flames surged through the channels into the lower magazine, instantly triggering a violent sympathetic detonation.
The foremost turret was blown clean off, while the rear superimposed turret suffered significant damage. The tremendous force tore a massive hole through the middle of the warship, and seawater began to pour in.
Karavi: “Impossible! How can the enemy pinpoint our position so clearly in such heavy rain?! Hard to starboard—evasive maneuver, now!”
Watching the flagship tilt and begin to sink from the severe damage, shocked cries erupted across the ships behind it. Unable to comprehend the situation, they all began turning their rudders in an attempt to escape the bombardment zone.
Meanwhile, the two battleships that had been continuously firing led the fleet into cruiser engagement range, and even more shells screamed down toward the coalition fleet.
Whether battleships or cruisers, Alliance warships all employed a superimposed turret design. With at least two main guns mounted forward, their firepower did not diminish significantly, meaning they had less reliance on securing the classic “crossing the T” formation compared to the coalition fleet.
Dense shells continued to raise towering water columns around the coalition fleet. Fortunately, they finally managed to catch sight of their opponents and were able to return fire.
However, due to the starboard turn, their formation had become somewhat disordered. Combined with the slow rotation speed of their turrets, another cruiser was sunk during this interval, erupting into flames that even the torrential rain could not extinguish.
The coalition’s main fleet at the rear had already begun turning broadside, launching a fierce counterattack against the approaching Alliance fleet.
However, they were using export versions of Alliance main guns and shells—reduced variants. While still powerful, they lacked the original cruisers’ ferocious firepower and range, leaving them at a disadvantage. The situation was becoming increasingly dire.
Though the situation was critical, they had no effective means of remedy. Their opponents were even more familiar with the performance parameters of the ships beneath their feet than they were themselves…
When purchasing Alliance warships, they had considered this issue. Yet they had reasoned that even if the Alliance held something back, with such massive tonnage, performance could not be too inferior—at the very least, they would still have the strength to fight.
They were not entirely wrong. The export versions had been reduced by about 30%, but they were still qualified cruisers.
The problem was that the Alliance had never intended to fight them with ships of equal class. From the very beginning, they had designed a high-low fleet composition to completely overwhelm other nations’ navies.
Thus, the fate of this coalition fleet had already been sealed. They lacked mobility advantages, were inferior in both firepower and protection compared to equivalent classes, and had no battleship to lead them. The best possible outcome was to fight desperately and manage to tear a piece of flesh from the Alliance fleet.
This naval battle lasted eight hours. In the end, the Alliance achieved its objective of annihilating the coalition fleet, at the cost of varying degrees of damage to five cruisers.
“Next target—bombard Mosseradel Port! Destroy all coastal defense fortifications of the Kingdom of Pue Lent. Also notify the General Staff that the deployment of landing forces can be accelerated.”
Laplade tossed her pen onto the marked location of Mosseradel Port. With her hands clasped behind her back, she looked out from the bridge at the night illuminated by a sea of fire. Her crimson vertical pupils were filled with excitement and anticipation.
“This day has finally come… the Subcontinent can no longer hold us back!”
“For the Goddess! Charge!!!”
Wave after wave of soldiers surged forward behind mechanical bodies, charging madly up the mountain, only to be cut down in swathes by dense gunfire. Inside the mechanical bodies, mages manipulated elemental forces, unleashing bombardments of various magic toward the source of firepower, eventually silencing that position.
Before excitement could appear on his face, a dull sound came from the shadows. The next instant, he felt the machine shudder violently as a burst of fire erupted outside the shield, engulfing him.
After several days of grueling combat, the 112th Division still held its position. However, as time passed, the Church’s offensive grew increasingly frenzied. Continuous assaults over two full days and nights left the soldiers of the 112th Division with no chance to rest. More than half of their over two hundred small defensive positions had already been lost.
While enduring immense psychological pressure, the terrifying consumption of ammunition and food supplies had pushed the 112th Division to the brink of exhaustion. Even water for survival had to be collected bit by bit from shell craters—and as for food, there was none left.
“What did headquarters say? We’ve held for five days already.” Chris grabbed the telegraph operator’s arm and asked anxiously.
The operator looked at the crumpled decoded message in his hand and stammered, “Headquarters says… we need to hold for one more day…”
“One more day?! Sigh…”
With no other choice, Chris could only wait until the enemy’s current wave of assault retreated, then temporarily abandon the position to fall back for reorganization and regrouping.
Only by reorganizing their forces and launching a counterattack before the enemy could fully secure their foothold would they have any chance of holding out for another day.