Kingdombuilding: All My Inventions Are Novelty

The vast ocean stretched endlessly beneath the pale sky.

Fifteen warships sailed in a formidable line, their towering masts and billowing sails forming an imposing wall across the sea. Stretching for more than a mile, the fleet radiated an unmistakable aura of menace.

The northern wind swept across the water, carrying a chill that seemed to penetrate the hearts of the Dutch commanders.

Their earlier arrogance had vanished.

The Prince they were dealing with was no ordinary ruler.

"Damn it! Alonso, why didn’t you tell me they had such a powerful fleet?" Grey roared, glaring at the ambassador.

Alonso had no answer.

He had never imagined that Ashenford possessed a navy capable of confronting the Dutch fleet so directly.

Fanaticism was one thing. Stupidity was another.

The Dutch were confident in their naval superiority, but confidence did not mean they were willing to throw their lives away in a battle they might lose.

Their warships were all third-rate vessels. Although they were reasonably maneuverable, their firepower was inferior to that of the formidable fleet now approaching them.

Worse still, the enemy’s formation was orderly, and its movements suggested extensive training.

This was not a collection of hastily assembled ships.

It was a fleet prepared for war.

Alonso stared at the approaching warships, his expression growing increasingly grim.

Suddenly, a thought struck him.

"This is all that shity prince doing."

His eyes flashed with anger.

"He deceived us! He must have deliberately concealed the naval strength, knowing we would eventually clash with the prince here."

Alonso clenched his fists.

Everything made sense now.

Prince Simon’s seemingly outrageous demands had not been empty threats. He had the military strength to enforce them. And the Dutch had sailed straight into a situation they had failed to anticipate.

Meanwhile, Zack had also spotted the approaching fleet through his telescope.

At first, he had assumed the ships belonged to some local maritime force. However, when he examined their flags, his expression changed dramatically.

The characters of the empire were clearly displayed. The soldiers aboard the vessels also wore uniforms associated with the Empire’s military.

Zack lowered his telescope, his face turning pale.

If these ships belonged to the empire, their situation was far worse than he had imagined.

"Earl, you must decide immediately," he urged Grey. "Every moment we waste reduces our options. Are we fighting or retreating?"

Grey finally recovered from his shock.

He surveyed the sea, weighing the possibilities.

The message Alonso had delivered earlier was clear enough. The Prince wanted control over Split Rock and its maritime trade routes. If the Dutch refused to accept his conditions, a confrontation would eventually become unavoidable.

But that did not mean they had to fight here.

Their supplies were running low, and their ships were not positioned advantageously. Engaging an unfamiliar enemy fleet under these circumstances would be an unnecessary gamble.

Grey narrowed his eyes.

"We cannot fight them here."

He turned toward his officers.

"Prepare to withdraw to Split Rock. Once we reach the surrounding waters, we can choose a more favorable position and force them to fight on our terms."

Alonso immediately nodded. It was the most sensible decision available. The Dutch fleet might still possess considerable strength, but there was no reason to risk everything in a battle they were not prepared to fight.

Grey gave the order.

Moments later, bells rang across the Dutch warships. Sailors rushed to their positions, adjusting the sails and preparing the vessels for a change of course.

Slowly, the Dutch fleet turned south heading for Split Rock. However, the retreat did not go unnoticed.

***

On the flagship of the navy, Desmond stood on the deck with a telescope pressed to his eye. He watched the Dutch warships turn away, and his brows gradually furrowed.

"They’re retreating?"

He lowered the telescope, visibly displeased.

The fleet had finally encountered the Dutch, yet the enemy was already fleeing.

After everything his men had endured during their earlier encounters with foreign warships, Desmond had hoped to test the strength of his newly acquired fleet in a decisive battle.

Instead, the Dutch had chosen to run.

More importantly, their retreat created a serious problem.

The fleet had only recently completed its preparations. Its supplies were limited, and the journey from Ashenford to Split Rock was long.

If the Dutch continued retreating south while avoiding a direct confrontation, Desmond’s fleet would have to follow them across a vast stretch of sea. The farther they sailed, the more difficult it would become to replenish their provisions.

And the Dutch would have the advantage of operating closer to their own strongholds.

Desmond was still considering his options when he noticed movement along the coastline.

Among them, soldiers from the Brambleford army were waving a military flag.

The message was unmistakable.

"Do not pursue."

Desmond’s expression changed slightly. He immediately understood that the order had come from the prince. After lowering his telescope, he turned toward the crew.

"Sound the order! Stop the pursuit!"

The sailors responded immediately.

Across the fleet, the order was relayed from ship to ship. The warships gradually adjusted their course, abandoning the chase.

Desmond watched the distant Dutch sails with lingering frustration. He had wanted to teach the enemy a lesson. Unfortunately, he would have to wait.

***

On the coast, Simon watched the Dutch fleet retreat into the distance.

There was no disappointment on his face.

On the contrary, the enemy’s decision had confirmed something important.

The Dutch were not confident that they could defeat his navy. Otherwise, they would have had little reason to abandon the confrontation so quickly.

However, Simon was not foolish enough to mistake their retreat for complete defeat.

A naval war could not be won through enthusiasm alone. Food, ammunition, repairs, and reliable supply routes were just as important as cannons and warships. Without these necessities, even the strongest fleet could find itself helpless far from its home port.

That was precisely why he had ordered Desmond to stop.

The fleet’s supplies were limited, and maintaining a long pursuit without established supply points would be extremely difficult. If the Dutch refused to fight and continued sailing south, the navy might spend weeks chasing them without achieving anything.

Simon had no intention of allowing the enemy to dictate the pace of the war.

Instead, he would prepare the battlefield himself.

First, he needed to establish supply points along the coast. He would also have to coordinate with the land forces and ensure that sufficient provisions and ammunition were available before the fleet sailed toward Split Rock again.

Only then could he begin a proper campaign.

There was another consideration.

In the age of sailing warships, speed and maneuverability mattered enormously.

First-rate and second-rate warships carried heavier armaments and offered greater firepower, but they were generally less agile than smaller third-rate vessels. A fleet composed of larger ships could therefore struggle to catch an enemy that refused to engage.

Chasing the Dutch across the open sea would allow them to exploit this weakness. Attacking Split Rock directly, however, would change the situation.

If the army threatened the Dutch stronghold, the enemy would have to decide whether to abandon its position or return to defend it.

Either choice would place the Dutch under considerable pressure. He intended to make them fight on his terms.

"Your Highness, when do you intend to launch the attack on Split Rock?"

Benjamin approached him, his expression thoughtful.

The recent Battle of Preston had taught Simon a valuable lesson about logistics. Benjamin was relieved to see that the prince had not allowed his desire for victory to turn into a reckless pursuit.

Simon smiled faintly.

"There’s no need to hurry."

He glanced toward the distant sea.

"Split Rock is already within our grasp. The Dutch may be able to delay us, but they cannot escape the situation forever."

He paused before continuing.

"We still need the Monkingo cannons and field artillery from the military workshop. Before attacking, I want our forces properly equipped. When the two armies finally clash, we must not allow the enemy to gain an advantage because of our lack of preparation."

Benjamin nodded. He understood the reasoning.

Victory was not simply a matter of reaching the battlefield first. A commander had to ensure that his troops possessed the weapons, supplies, and training necessary to win.

During the confrontation, he had paid particular attention to the Dutch field artillery.

Their cannons were mounted on wheels and designed for mobility. Compared with the heavier weapons commonly used in fixed defensive positions, they were relatively small and lightweight.

Yet their advantages were obvious.

They could be moved across the battlefield more easily than heavier artillery pieces, and their effective range and destructive power made them far more dangerous than ordinary flintlock muskets.

A formation supported by such weapons could inflict considerable damage before an enemy came within musket range.

Benjamin considered this for a moment before speaking.

"My Lord, Bjorn should produce a batch of cannons similar to those used by the Dutch."

His tone was serious.

"No general wants to send his men into battle without giving them the best weapons available. If these mobile cannons can improve our firepower, we should study them immediately."

Simon nodded.

"That is precisely what we should do. Have the military workshop examine the captured examples and determine how we can improve our own artillery."

He had no intention of ignoring a useful weapon simply because it belonged to the enemy. If the Dutch possessed an effective design, they would study it, improve it, and incorporate its advantages into their own military system.

That was how a nation strengthened its military capabilities.

Meanwhile, the retreating Dutch fleet had already disappeared beyond the horizon.

He had originally expected the Dutch to exchange a few rounds of fire before withdrawing. Their decision to retreat so decisively suggested that their commanders were far more anxious than he had anticipated.

The Dutch understood their own position.

They knew how many warships they possessed, how much ammunition remained in their magazines, and how difficult it would be to obtain reinforcements. The appearance of fifteen warships had undoubtedly shaken their confidence.

For the first time, the Dutch faced the possibility that they might lose control of the waters they had long considered their own.

And once Simon began preparing an assault on Split Rock, that possibility would become a terrifying reality.

Simon turned away from the sea.

"Let’s return"

***

After returning to the city, Simon immediately began considering the arrangements necessary for an assault on Split Rock

Military preparations were only one part of the problem.

To sustain a campaign across the sea, he needed secure supply points along the coastline. Food, ammunition, replacement equipment, and other necessities would have to reach the troops without interruption.

Fortunately, the coastal territories were not entirely beyond his influence.

Prince Gerad and Valeric both possessed interests in the region, and their cooperation could make the preparations considerably easier.

Simon intended to discuss the matter with them.

At present, both Princes had reasons to cooperate with him. Neither was in a position to challenge his growing influence openly.

If they wanted to protect their own interests, helping establish the necessary supply points would be a sensible choice.

Meanwhile, Desmond led the fleet back to the naval port.

After ensuring that the warships had returned safely, he gathered several naval commanders and headed to the Ashenford prefecture office to report to Simon.

As soon as he entered, Desmond shook his head with a wry smile.

"Your Highness, those Dutch ships certainly know how to run."

He chuckled.

"We were chased by their warships before. Now that we finally have our own fleet, they turn around and flee. It’s a pity we couldn’t give them a proper lesson."

Simon glanced at him.

"You will have your chance to settle that score."

Desmond’s expression brightened slightly.

However, Simon’s next words quickly wiped away his smile.

"But this time, you might not have been able to defeat them."

Desmond froze.

While Simon continued calmly.

"Naval warfare isn’t decided by the number of warships alone. Your men have only recently taken command of these vessels. Although they know how to operate warships, they are not yet sufficiently familiar with their handling and capabilities."

He looked directly at Desmond.

"Large first-rate and second-rate warships are especially difficult to maneuver. If you had engaged the Dutch in a decisive battle today, you might have discovered their weaknesses at the worst possible moment."

A bead of cold sweat appeared on Desmond’s forehead.

He had been eager for a fight, but he could not deny Simon’s assessment. The fleet possessed powerful warships, yet its sailors had not accumulated enough experience operating them together under combat conditions.

Knowing how to sail a ship was not the same as knowing how to command it in battle.

The distinction could determine the outcome of an entire engagement. Had the Dutch turned to fight instead of retreating, the result might have been far less favorable than Desmond imagined.

He bowed his head.

"Your Highness is right. I was too eager to fight."

Simon nodded.

"From today onward, your fleet will remain in Ashenford for three months of intensive training. Your sailors must become thoroughly familiar with their vessels, and your commanders must learn to coordinate the fleet effectively."

He paused.

"Only when you can handle these warships with confidence will we discuss a major naval engagement. Until then, concentrate on training and play with the nearby pirates."

Desmond straightened.

"Understood, Your Highness! I will train the men rigorously and turn this fleet into a force capable of dominating the sea."

Simon then turned toward O’Neill , who had been listening to the exchange.

"Commander, this campaign presents a tremendous opportunity for Ashenford."

O’Neill immediately paid attention.

Simon continued, "Once we take over Split Rock, we will no longer be merely a coastal city. It can become an important maritime trading port, connecting our merchants with distant markets and opening new commercial routes."

His eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"Ships will need supplies, merchants will require warehouses, and traders will need places to conduct business. As maritime commerce expands, Ashenford’s’s population, industries, and revenue will grow alongside it."

O’Neill’s expression brightened.

He understood what the prince was suggesting. The coming war was not merely about defeating the Dutch or securing an island.

It was also an opportunity to reshape Ashenford’s future.

With control over the surrounding waters and a secure foothold at Split Rock, Ashenford could become one of the most important gateways to overseas trade. But before that future could be realized, the Dutch had to be driven from their stronghold.