Artillery fire swept across the sea like a raging tide. The joint offensive of the World Government's forces and the New Navy instantly tore apart the precarious pirate ship formations on the surface.

Shells erupted on the water's surface, sending up crimson waves. Accompanied by deafening explosions, shattered planks and rusty wreckage splashed everywhere. Ultimately, under the immense force, pirate ships were tragically swallowed by the icy depths.

In this instant of churning water and rising smoke, an acute tension suddenly filled the air between the two fleets that had just been fighting side-by-side against the pirates.

Former allies who had fought shoulder to shoulder now stared at each other across the gun barrels, their expressions icy and wary.

The layered ships of the fleets, amidst the roaring cannons and raging waves, seemed to transform into cold, steel behemoths.

The commander of one fleet, his face flushed with anger, roared:

"Lay down your weapons, or don't blame us for being impolite!"

The telescope clutched in his hand glinted coldly in the sunlight, his voice piercing the eardrums of everyone on the sea.

However, the opposing fleet was not to be outdone. Another commander coldly snorted, and upon his command, the cannons swiftly turned towards each other. It was as if, at this moment, all former camaraderie had vanished.

The sea breeze carried the acrid scent of gunpowder and the salty tang of the sea. The entire sea trembled at this sudden turn of animosity.

The two groups who had just fought side-by-side now acted independently, their trust in each other utterly shattered.

It all felt like a meticulously staged drama:

In the cannon fire, pirate ships were mercilessly submerged.

As the glimmer of victory appeared, the allies tore apart their beliefs, each turning their cannons on the other.

The opposing forces' momentum collided on the sea's surface, sparking harsh flashes and furious roars. The air was thick with the taste of blood and iron.

"We may have fought together once, but now we serve different masters!"

A young soldier whispered, his voice trembling, as if telling himself an irreversible truth.

On the other side, an old general gazed resolutely at the opposing fleet in the distance, and said in a low voice:

"This war is destined to be extraordinary.

The enemy's division will only allow us to achieve victory faster."

In this fierce naval war, the World Government demonstrated its profound foundation and powerful military strength.

Their fleets were well-equipped, large in number, advanced in weaponry, and well-supplied, showcasing the formidable power of a centuries-old regime.

In comparison, although the New Navy had high morale, it was at a disadvantage in terms of equipment and resources.

The number and quality of their ships could not compare with those of the World Government, and their supply lines were relatively fragile.

However, the warriors of the New Navy fought tenaciously with unwavering will and a desire for freedom, striving to find a chance of victory in this unequal war.

The battlefield was shrouded in cannon fire and smoke, with both fleets clashing fiercely on the turbulent sea.

The World Government's warships, like steel behemoths, used advanced radar systems and missile technology to precisely strike the New Navy's ships.

The New Navy's commanders used flexible tactics, attempting to weaken the enemy's advantage through rapid maneuvers and courageous assaults.

Despite the enormous challenges facing the New Navy, they did not retreat.

Every warrior understood that this was not just a contest of strength, but also a war of beliefs.

They firmly believed that as long as they were united and moved forward courageously, they could create miracles in this seemingly hopeless battle.

However, the reality was cruel. Relying on its powerful military strength, the World Government gradually gained the upper hand on the battlefield.

New Navy ships were constantly being sunk, and warriors were sacrificing themselves heroically.

But even so, the survivors gritted their teeth and continued to fight, refusing to submit to tyranny.

On the New Navy side.

Shanks' knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing of the bridge, the salty sea wind mixed with gunpowder smoke filling his nostrils.

He clearly saw the ammunition handler at the number three gun position on the left being sliced in half at the shoulder by shrapnel. The young man who always hummed fishing songs was now clutching his severed arm, convulsing in a pool of blood.

"Loader, take his place!"

The first mate's roar was lost in the roar of the main guns.

At this moment, these words transformed into a burning roar in his throat. He snatched the speaking tube and roared at the engine room:

"Full speed ahead to cross the T!"

"Let all thirty-six cannons on the broadside fire!"

The dome armor of the World Government flagship 'Iron Curtain' gleamed coldly in the morning light. As its rapid-fire gun network tore through the ship's waterline, the entire sea echoed with the screech of metal disintegrating.

A very young apprentice sailor, Allen, was using a steel bar to wedge a deformed waterproof gate when flying gear fragments suddenly sliced off his left ear.

The child from the South Sea fishing village actually grinned. He grabbed a seawater-soaked bandage and haphazardly wrapped it around the wound, then turned and pushed an entire box of picric acid shells into the scorching breech.

"Hard to port! Let their main guns stare at the sun!"

The first mate's voice exploded in the burning command tower.

The signalman cowered behind an overturned iron cabinet, repeating the order into the red-hot copper tube, blood foam spilling from the corner of his mouth with every word.

A distorted cheer suddenly came from the lower deck. It turned out that the chief engineer, with his burned hands, had forced open the stuck valve with a wrench.

As the ship's mast snapped with a crash, lookout Tom was still clinging tightly to the thermometer mount.

In the moment of falling, he saw a battleship flying the New Navy flag turning four hundred meters away.

Something hotter than hatred exploded in his chest. The clerk who used to organize nautical charts in the library actually pulled out a signal pistol in free fall and fired his last phosphorus flare at the enemy ship's observation window.

Burning oil slicks wove blood-colored silk on the sea surface, and the remaining New Navy fleet was tearing through the encirclement in a wedge formation.

Shanks' fingernails dug deeply into his palm. He saw a fifteen-year-old medic dragging a broken leg, crawling across the sloping deck, the winding trail of blood quickly swallowed by the waves.

The World Government sailors began to demand surrender in semaphore. Their answer was a battle flag rising from the wreckage of the fleet—the flag embroidered with the World Government's symbol, now fluttering on the broken mast just three meters above the sea, like a ball of unquenched blue flames.

On the World Government side, the firepower suppression swept the battlefield like a doomsday tidal wave.

On the vast sea, dense fleets swept across like iron torrents, relentlessly spewing out fiery tongues.

Shells continuously bombarded the New Navy's positions, and the huge explosions shook every inch of the sea.

Under this brutal firepower suppression, the New Navy soldiers were forced to scatter like kites with broken strings. Painful cries mixed with screams echoed on the sea, as if the entire sea was wailing for them.

Standing on the command platform of the warship, the senior officials of the World Government wore cold smiles, their eyes flashing with a chilling satisfaction.

They talked in low voices:

"The loss in Mary Geoise has finally been avenged.

This is the reward we have been waiting for for many years."

Some senior officers even held wine glasses, a hint of malicious sarcasm in their eyes:

"Watching the New Navy's miserable struggles is even more exciting than watching a play."

However, this is far from enough.

Those New Navy fleets that had just been forced to show weakness, large in number, were trying to reorganize with amazing tenacity, striving to make a comeback on the sea.

The people of the World Government were obviously wary of this, and their plans had already laid a net—the only goal was to completely annihilate these new legions and never allow any sparks of rebellion to be reborn on the sea.

On the command platform, a senior officer in black uniform said coldly:

"Today, we must annihilate these New Navy forces completely.

As long as they dare to show their faces, we will launch a full-scale attack and make a quick decision!"

His voice was low and powerful, as if coming from the abyss, silencing the entire fleet.

At the same time, on the sea, the artillery fire continued, and the coordinated operations between the fleets had already begun.

Accurately calculated networks of fire trapped the New Navy's ships, their cries for survival intertwined with the sound of waves crashing, forming a tragic elegy.

Whenever a New Navy ship was swept by fire, it would explode with a deafening roar, and the wreckage would float in the blood-red sea, as if announcing their unfortunate fate to the world.

This catastrophe was not just a simple naval battle, but more like a crushing of absolute power, a cold judgment from above.

The commanders of the World Government were already accustomed to suppressing all dissidents with absolute firepower. They used their merciless smiles and cold eyes to declare their ultimate control over power.

And the New Navy's unyielding struggle was gradually being annihilated by this iron-blooded torrent. The World Government vowed to use complete destruction to eliminate all challengers.

...

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