Sparks cascaded down in a spectacular display of incandescent particles dancing upon the water's surface. Among these showers of sparks, a multitude of them found their destination on the sheen of diesel oil spread over the water. However, despite the anticipation, the fervently desired inferno did not erupt.
Amid this situation, Bawang's unease grew palpable, his voice carrying a tinge of anxiety, "Master, this method appears ineffective. The diesel on the water's expanse resists ignition. What course of action should we pursue?"
ραΠdαsΝοvel.cοm Liu Yong, in stark contrast, maintained a composed demeanour. His understanding of the situation was acute. Diesel oil, he knew, was an entity distinct from gasoline, its ignition far less straightforward. A calm assurance laced his words as he responded, "Overlord, patience is our ally. Let us persist and attempt this method a few more times; ignition shall undoubtedly be achieved."
Gleaning insights through a third-party vantage point, Liu Yong detected the presence of a thick layer of diesel oil resting upon the water's surface. He speculated. This fuel reservoir harboured the potential to catch fire, a wealth of several thousand tons capable of eventual ignition.
Encouraged by Liu Yong's guidance, Overlord recommenced his efforts. The colossal spear's tip etched fiery friction against the warship's hull, yielding more sparks than in the previous endeavour.
Finally, the diesel fuel's stoic resistance was breached, succumbing to combustion that spread with celerity. While its conflagration lacked the immediate swiftness characteristic of gasoline, it embarked upon a journey of expansion that soon spanned a considerable domain.
The satisfaction evident in Liu Yong's voice resonated, "Overlord, you have succeeded. Waste no time in sinking the remaining warships, followed by a prompt departure from this vicinity."
"Understood. Grant me a mere ten minutes, or perhaps even seven to eight minutes will suffice," affirmed Overlord with conviction.
Meanwhile, Robert directed a searchlight's beam upon the water's expanse, perplexity etching his countenance. A muffled detonation had reached his ears, originating seemingly from the water's depths. Bewilderment clouded his thoughts as he pondered, **"What transpires beneath the surface?"**
Clarity eluded him as he sought the source of the enigmatic noise. He mused, ruminated, and then—
Astonishment swept over him as his gaze captured a fiery spectacle nearby. Adjacent to a moored supply ship, flames kindled, their reach rapidly expanding. The fire burgeoned in magnitude in mere moments, enveloping the supply ship and exerting influence over several neighbouring warships.
In an instant, calamity unfolded—an unforeseen upheaval. **"What crisis has unfolded?"** Robert's once fuddled mind found clarity. Inebriation is now a distant memory, replaced by a stark sobriety.
Summoning his instincts, he triggered the alarm. A shrill siren pierced the air of Fask naval port, rousing scores of sailors from slumber. Bedlam ensued, a rush to douse the flames overpowering all other considerations. Unbeknownst to them, Overlord had embarked on a covert offensive, his colossal spear ruthlessly puncturing the warships.
As muddy waters proved fruitful for fishing, so did the chaotic turmoil favour Overlord's clandestine maneuvers. Hidden beneath the waves, his activities remained concealed, the underwater detonations shrouded in the pervasive cacophony of flames and chaos.
"Boom, boom, boom!"
Overlord's exultation was tangible, invigorating energy coursing through his being as warships succumbed to his onslaught, their hulls reduced to fragments. Bawang's strategy proved effective, puncturing fuel tanks and rendering the waters a cauldron of combustibles—gasoline and diesel.
The conflagration intensified, the inferno's voracity insatiable. Fask Harbor, once a bastion of military prowess, now resembled a realm consumed by flames. Panic reigned supreme, figures darting frantically amidst the encroaching firestorm.
Bawang, submerged in the depths, remained untouched by the fiery maelstrom, his determination unwavering as he perforated warship after warship, even sparing not the submarines.
Notably, two pristine submarines, gleaming symbols of national pride, were stationed at the pier. Their recent commissioning ceremony had imbued them with significance, but now they lay pierced, sinking into oblivion. Bawang had spared no effort, beating and penetrating each vessel multiple times.
"Overlord, it is time to retreat," Liu Yong's voice, transmitted through a third-party perspective, urged Bawang's withdrawal.
Amidst the chaos, danger loomed. The vast conflagration threatened to birth explosive cataclysms at any moment. Observing the E-National Navy's hurried evacuation, Liu Yong knew the battle was won.
With nimble swiftness, Bawang vacated Fask Harbor, assuming a prudent distance. From this vantage, he observed the fiery spectacle, an architect of destruction surveying his masterpiece.
"Master, this has indeed been a gratifying endeavor," Bawang exulted.
Liu Yong's accolade was swift, "Exceptional performance, Overlord. The E-National Navy now stands vanquished."
Yet, as Bawang prepared to converse, a resounding blast rented the air, followed by successive detonations—a symphony of explosions reverberating in the distance.
Devastation unfurled, the grand edifice of the E-National Navy's triumphs crumbled. Matthew Ryan and his naval peers surveyed the once-proud port from a safe haven, heartrending emotions churning within. Years of endeavour, a soaring ascent into the echelons of maritime power, shattered in a nightmarish trance.
Across Fask City, slumbering residents awoke to a cacophony of chaos. Gazing toward the harbour, they witnessed the heavens ablaze, the thunderous roars of detonations painting an ominous tapestry. The city stirred with anxiety, a populace united in awe and trepidation.
As dawn broke, the inferno's fury subsided, the fire dwindling—its vitality consumed by time. Fask Harbor, once teeming with maritime might, lay dishevelled. Warships and submarines, once proud and mighty, now adorned the sea floor, a submerged graveyard veiled in blue smoke.
Amid this tableau of destruction, Chen Hu awaited Liu Yong, his car at the ready. A routine punctuated by camaraderie began with a casual inquiry, "Boss, is there cause for celebration today?"
Liu Yong's buoyant spirits were evident, and he responded with a smile, "I chanced upon news of Fask Harbor's inferno. All warships docked there met their fiery demise."
Chen Hu's enthusiasm was palpable, his words resonating with shared joy, "Boss, this is truly fortuitous tidings for us!"
Indeed, the news was a balm to their recent strife. A mere two days prior, country E had dispatched warships in an audacious attempt to halt the "Blue Whale" and "Shiwang." Now, their premier naval bastion had succumbed to
an unforeseen blaze—a swift reversal of fortune.
Enveloped by this euphoria, Liu Yong entered his office at the Universal Building. No sooner had he settled than Qiu Yang barged in, radiating exuberance, "Boss, I bring exhilarating tidings!"
Liu Yong's smile acknowledged Qiu Yang's news, "The Fask Harbor blaze, I presume?"
Qiu Yang beamed, confirming Liu Yong's insight, "Indeed, Boss. You're already aware. The harbor's monumental catastrophe is now common knowledge."
And so, Qiu Yang regaled the tale enthusiastically, his voice rife with joy, "Divine retribution, it seems. A raging fire devoured their once-mighty harbour."
As Qiu Yang spoke, Liu Yong nodded knowingly, absorbing the sentiments. Then, as if cogs in a well-oiled machine, Liu Yong said, "Post an announcement on our group's official website. Clarify that we bear no responsibility for the conflagration at Fask Harbor."
Qiu Yang's surprise was evident, the audacity of the move awe-inspiring. With this proclamation, the upper echelons of the E-National Navy would likely be left sputtering in a fury.
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