Up_5.part2.rar

The British broadside let out a guttural roar. Through his binoculars, Vance watched the tracers arch across the sky. He saw three direct hits on the U.P. 5 ’s midships. Any other vessel would have folded, but the Steel Ghost simply sailed on, its dark hull barely scorched.

The battle for the seas had only just begun, and the legend of the U.P. 5 was already being written in blood and coal dust.

"Signal the 5th Flotilla," Vance whispered. "Tell them to find the Ghost's heart." UP_5.part2.rar

As the Iron Duke heeled over, the U.P. 5 spoke. A flash of orange fire tore through the gray mist, followed by the bone-shaking cr-ump of 16-inch shells. The sea around the Iron Duke erupted in towering geysers of white spray. One shell clipped the aft deck, turning the mahogany into kindling and sending a shiver through the ship’s spine. "Return fire!"

Vance knew the reputation of the U.P. 5 . It wasn't just built; it was optimized. Every angle of its belt armor was designed to deflect shells like raindrops. It was the crowning achievement of a naval arms race that had pushed the world to the brink. The British broadside let out a guttural roar

"Begin the turn," Vance ordered, his voice steady. "We cannot cross her 'T' if we're sailing into her teeth."

In the belly of the ship, Miller heard the groan of twisting metal. He knew they were outmatched in iron, but they had the wind. "More pressure!" he screamed at the stokers. "If we don't outrun her, she'll bury us!" 5 ’s midships

The humidity in the boiler room of the HMS Iron Duke was enough to wilt a man’s spirit, but Petty Officer Miller didn’t have time to sweat. The telegraph clicked with a frantic rhythm: