The Villainess's Reputation [Kingdom Building]

From atop the fortified wall overlooking the fog-covered harbor, Hughes stood tall and resolute. In his hand, he held a single jasmine flower, glowing faintly with mana, its petals ready with a voice amplification spell. When he spoke, his voice thundered across the waves, cutting through the thickening white haze like a warning bell.

"You are trespassing in Kim Dukedom's waters!" he declared, voice echoing across the bay. "We, the people of Kim, do not recognize Edward Jola's claims of dishonor or his fabricated grievance. There is no justification for your presence. Turn back!"

The message reverberated into the growing wall of mist now rolling in from the sea.

Across the water, on the bridge of the lead imperial warship, the central division of the Ancorna Imperial Navy had slowed their advance, their ships now facing the blinding white fog that hung thick and low across the harbor. Visibility had dropped dramatically, no more than a few meters in front of the ship's bow could be seen.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, a reply came, another voice, amplified and formal, rang back from the fog-covered fleet.

"This is the Imperial Navy, on behalf of Lord Edward Jola. A territorial war has already been declared. If Kim Dukedom surrenders now, we will not engage in combat!"

The declaration was followed by a hush, as though even the sea held its breath.

Hughes didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and shouted back, his voice amplified with the same magical flower.

"We do not surrender! Kim will stand and fight! You will not pass this shore!"

With that, the flower's spell ended, crumbling into ash between his fingers as the wind carried it away into the fog.

Down below, the sea had turned into a roiling basin of white. The quicklime mist had expanded, blanketing the entire port with a dense, heavy fog that clung to the water like an unholy veil. Nothing beyond the barrier was visible, not ships, not waves, not even the sky. It was as though the world had vanished.

Inside the command chamber of the lead ship, Fleet Commander Lucas Hilos stared out through the fogged-up windowpane of the observation deck. His fingers tapped the railing slowly, a habit born of battlefield instincts sharpened over decades.

Something was wrong.

"This fog…" he murmured, narrowing his eyes. "It's too thick. Too sudden. Too deliberate."

Behind him, one of his navy generals scoffed lightly. "It's just morning fog, Commander," the man said, arms folded. "The northern parts of the empire get this all the time, humidity and sea heat mixing overnight. Standard meteorological phenomena."

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Lucas didn't look away from the fog. "And Yet, I still don't feel this is normal."

The general shrugged. "Then we wait. Anchor the ships and let it clear. No need to march into something we can't see."

There was a moment of silence before Lucas responded. He turned, his expression unreadable.

"No," he said. "We don't wait."

The general raised an eyebrow.

"We anchor here, yes, but we're not staying blind. Dispatch advance boats, light scouting vessels. Equip them with skirmisher squads. I want eyes on that shoreline within the hour."

He pointed toward the fog ahead. "I want confirmation of enemy positions, any traps, and fortifications. This fog is a curtain. and I don't trust what's behind it."

The general frowned, clearly unconvinced, but nodded. "Understood. I'll mobilize a reconnaissance force immediately."

Within moments, orders were being relayed down the chain. Horns blared from the deck as knights and sailors scrambled into action. Rowboats and fast-moving magic skiffs were lowered into the water with carefully selected squads of scouts, their armor light, weapons drawn, nerves tight.

One by one, the boats began descending into the sea, slicing into the dense fog like fish vanishing into a white abyss.

Then something changed.

The fog stirred just slightly, unnaturally.

A gust of wind swept through the mist, but it wasn't from the natural sea breeze. It was pressure, something was coming. The calm of the white curtain broke, the air rippling outward as if a massive force was cutting through it beneath the surface.

A strange, low humming sound echoed out across the water. It wasn't magical—not from any spell their mages recognized, but mechanical. Pulsing. Steady. Growing louder.

And then it appeared.

A small vessel, unlike anything the imperial fleet had seen before, shot forward through the fog like a launched arrow. Steam hissed from vents along its sides, and its pointed prow cut the water with unnatural precision. It moved so fast, it parted the mist in a sharp line, revealing its deadly form for only a moment before impact.

CRACK—BOOM!

The unmanned steamboat slammed into the side of one of the larger warships, its momentum so fierce that it shook the vessel upon impact. The rowboats nearby, still mid-descent with troops aboard, were thrown off balance. Men shouted in panic as their ropes snapped and their boats twisted sideways, dipping toward the sea.

On the deck of the command ship, Fleet Commander Lucas Hilos was thrown slightly off balance as the tremor reached them. Though his flagship hadn't been hit directly, the explosion of sound pierced through the fog and steel alike.

"What was—?" Lucas began, but he was cut off.

Suddenly, a loud ringing sounded through the air.

"Ring… ring… RING…"

It was surreal, like a bell or a mockery of one. The sound echoed across the ships, and for a moment, it was impossible to tell whether it was magical, alive or artificial.

The damaged warship groaned as flames erupted from the strange vessel embedded into its side. A concentrated blast of fire surged out of the steamboat's hull, aimed directly into the ship's lower deck, flooding it with heat and smoke.

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "A fire spell? No… this is something else."

Before he could turn to his mages to order a countermeasure, the flames abruptly cut off.

Then the boat detonated.

A massive explosion tore through the side of the imperial ship, sending splinters and fire shooting into the fog. The entire front section of the hull was engulfed in the blast, and flaming debris launched into the air before disappearing into the sea.

The shockwave reached Lucas's vessel a second later, rocking the command ship with a sudden, powerful jolt. Alarms were raised, men began shouting in panic, and mages scrambled to erect barrier spells.

Lucas gritted his teeth, bracing himself against the railing.

"What in the hell was that?" he muttered, his jaw tightening.