Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Nightmare Assault
Horror Game Designer
The Demon King is Too Unfathomable!
I, The Dragon Overlord
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 970: Shameless
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1231- Familiar person
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 343 - Kill Or Be Killed
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 39.1
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 644: That Sword Is Merely 90% Complete
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3844: Assassination
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 276: Bride
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 355: The Most Normal Me
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1230- Everyone's world
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 969: White Bone Divine Lord
The Defeated Saintess Is On A Journey To Tame The Evil God
Book 01 Chapter 07.13 - Red Epiphyllum
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 342 - The Foundational Battle Over 600 Years Ago
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 38.2
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1229- Cloud Peak defense system
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 643.2: The Temple Master Isn't Invincible, the Great Sword Immortal Has Already Entered the City - Part 2
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3843: Medicinal Gardens in the Skyscraping World
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 354: The Correct Day
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 275: Mistake
A cargo ship charging into a massive naval fleet was no different from throwing an egg on a rock. Yet it advanced as easily as a heated knife slicing through a slab of butter.
Despite having the numerical advantage, the Ottomains were a bumbling mess. In their panic, they crashed into one another while attempting to maneuver in this narrow strait. They might be many, but they were still powerless.
It was as if the ship bearing the white base black cross flag was a vile wolf eyeing a flock of lambs. If they willed so, they could swiftly capture any one of the Ottomains’ lambs, slit their throats, and trample them.
Momoana stared at the sea in disbelief. Her officials held their breaths, not daring to make any noise.
It was too embarrassing.
They had at least thirty times the fleets of their enemy, yet it felt like they had been slammed to the ground and punched in the face over and over again.
In a matter of moments, they had already lost eight ships, whereas the enemy’s casualties remained negligible.
“Tell Pasha Baltoghlu,” Moamoana coldly said, “that he doesn’t have to return if he can’t take down those ships.”
…
In contrast to the Ottomains’ plummeting morale, the Romains looked like they were having a festival.
They had noticed Shu Yichao’s ships from the moment they appeared in the Bosphorus Strait, and his attack on the Ottomains’ fleet drew the entire city’s attention. Thunderous cheers broke out when he made quick work of the Ottomains’ fleet as if they were just toy ships.
Even Constantin XI rushed to the city walls to watch this exciting sight.
“Mother Maria,” he drew a cross in front of his chest as warm tears streamed from his eyes, “is this the Lord protecting us?”
Having spent half of his life fighting on the battlefield, he felt a rush of adrenaline when he saw the Ottomains’ fleet being torn apart. He wished that he had been on those ships with a sword in his hand to claim the lives of the Ottomains.
…
Meanwhile, Madam Marti and the others felt like they had gone mad.
When did those lofty barbarian
…
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