Whoa! The wind howled and the rain poured down in torrents, the three-masted ship heaving between one wave peak and another, as though tossed and caught again and again by giants, like a toy in constant motion. The deep red in Algier Wilson's eyes faded, and he found himself still standing on the deck, exactly as before. Then he saw the strangely shaped glass bottle in his hands crack with a crisp sound; the frost melted, blending into the raindrops. Within mere seconds, the ancient wonder vanished completely, leaving no trace of its former existence. A shimmering, hexagonal snowflake appeared in the palm of Algier, then gradually faded, until it seemed to have withdrawn into his flesh. Algier nodded slightly, as though thinking, and remained still for a full five minutes. Turning, he walked toward the ship's entrance, just as a man in a long robe embroidered with lightning patterns stepped out to meet him. The man with soft yellow hair paused, looked at Aljere, extended his right hand, clenched it, and placed it against his chest, saying: "Storm with you." "Storm with you." Aljere's rugged, deeply lined face expressed no extra emotion, and he did the same, clasping his right fist to his left chest. After exchanging greetings, Aljere entered the cabin and walked down the corridor toward the captain's quarters. Along the way, he encountered not a single sailor or crew member—quiet, as if the place were the interior of a tomb. The door to the captain's quarters opened, and before him lay a thick, deep brown carpet. To either side stood bookshelves and a wine cabinet; under the candlelight, the slightly yellowed book spines and the deep red wine bottles gleamed with a distinct luster. On the table holding the candles, there was a bottle of ink, a quill pen, a black metal telescope, and a brass sextant. Behind the desk, a middle-aged man wearing a skeleton captain's hat and pale-faced watched Aljer approach step by step, gritting his teeth with growing anger. "I will not yield!" said Aljer calmly, as if commenting on the weather today being rather unkind. "You...?" The man froze, taken aback by such a response. Aljer lifted the middle-aged man, bent his back, and stepped forward with strong, firm strides, drawing closer to the adjacent wall. Thud! Using the man as a shield, he slammed into the front with powerful arms, thick and strong as those of a monster. The wooden wall shattered instantly, and the fierce wind and rain, carrying the briny scent of the sea, surged in. Aljer twisted and bent, hurling the middle-aged man out of the cabin, into the towering, wave upon wave of the sea. The sky darkened, the wind howled, and nature's power buried everything. Aljer pulled out a white handkerchief, carefully wiped his right palm, then tossed it into the sea. Stepping back a few paces, he patiently waited for his companion to enter. "What happened?" Not ten seconds later, the man with soft yellow hair rushed in. "The Captain escaped," Aljer panted, exasperatedly replied, "and he still possesses some extraordinary strength!" "Damn it!" the yellow-haired man murmured under his breath. He reached the breach and gazed steadily toward the distant horizon, but beyond the wind, rain, and waves, he saw nothing. "Besides, he's just incidental," the man with gray hair waved his arm. "We'll have our credit for finding this ghost ship from the Tord era." Even a favored one of the sea, he dared not plunge into the water under such weather. "And if the storm continues, the 'Captain' won't last much longer," Aljer nodded, noticing the breach in the wooden walls beginning to heal visibly. He stared intently, then instinctively turned his head toward the helm and sails. Though separated by layers of wood, he could clearly sense what was happening there. No first mate, no second mate, no crew, no sailors—no living beings at all! There was nothing there, and the helm and sails were adjusting themselves in a most strange manner. Once again, the image of the "Fool" shrouded in gray-white mist appeared in Aljere's mind. He sighed suddenly, turned his gaze toward the wild winds and roaring waves outside, and spoke in a dreamy tone, full of both anticipation and fear: "A new era has begun..." ... In the Royal Quarter of the capital city of Baelen, the Kingdom of Ruan. Audrey Hall clutched her cheeks, unable to believe what had just happened. Before her, the ancient bronze mirror on the dressing table lay shattered into fragments. Lowering her gaze, Audrey noticed a deep red flowing across her forearm, like a celestial pattern etched upon her skin. The deep red gradually faded, eventually blending into her skin and vanishing completely. Only then did Audrey fully realize that she was not dreaming. Her eyes sparkled with emotion, her lips curled upward gently, and she found herself standing up, bending to lift her skirt. With a graceful bow to the air, Audrey moved with lightness, turning fluidly and began to dance the current court favorite—the "Ancient Elven Dance." Her figure graceful, her face radiant with smiles. Thud! Thud! Thud! The door to the bedroom was suddenly knocked upon. "Who is it?" Audrey stopped abruptly, assuming a refined posture. "Madam, may we enter? You're ready, I believe," asked her personal maid from outside. Audrey turned her head toward the mirror on the dressing table, quickly suppressing her smile, leaving only a faint trace. She glanced around, checking that her appearance was impeccable, before speaking gently: "Please, come in." With a smooth twist of her wrist, her maid Anne pushed the door open. "Oh, it's broken..." Anne immediately noticed the fate of the ancient bronze mirror. Audrey blinked, speaking slowly: "Ah, yes, well, actually, Suzy came in earlier—do you remember? It always seems to knock things over!" Suzy was a golden retriever of less pure lineage, a gift her father, Lord Holber, received when he purchased his fox-hunting dogs. Yet, she was particularly beloved by Audrey. "You'll have to give it a good scolding. Anne carefully gathered the copper mirror fragments, careful not to hurt the lady. After finishing this, she turned to Audrey and smiled, asking, "Which dress would you like to wear?" Audrey thought for a moment and said, "I particularly like the one Miss Gianna designed for me on my seventeenth birthday." "But people will think the Hall family is facing financial difficulties if a dress is worn twice at a formal event!" Anne shook her head firmly. "I truly do love it," Audrey emphasized gently. "You can wear it at home, in less formal settings," Anne stated with unwavering determination. "Then how about the one Mr. Sedgwick sent yesterday—the one with the frilled sleeves?" Audrey took a quiet breath, maintaining her graceful, sweet smile. "Your taste is always so excellent," Anne said, stepping back and calling out to the door, "Room Six, no—let me go get it myself." The maids began to move about—one attending the long dresses, another the jewelry, a third the shoes, a fourth the lace hats, one styling Miss Audrey, and one considering the hairstyle. As the preparations drew near their close, Lord Holborne, dressed in a deep brown waistcoat, appeared at the door. He wore a hat of the same color as his coat, had a neat pair of small mustaches, and his blue eyes sparkled with warmth, though the relaxed muscles, his distended belly, and the emerging lines around his face quietly eroded the youthful elegance of his earlier years. "The most brilliant gem of Beckland," said Lord Holborne, standing at the entrance and lightly tapping the open door twice. "Father, please—don't call me that." Miss Audrey rose with the aid of the maids, deliberately adopting a slightly troubled expression. "Then, my lovely little princess, it's time to go," said Lord Holborne, bending his left arm to invite Miss Audrey to take his arm. Audrey smiled and shook her head: "This is Mrs. Hall, Countess, the place once occupied by my dear mother." "Over here," said the Count, smiling, and raised his right arm with grace, "this is the pride of a father." ... Plymouth Harbor, Oak Island, Royal Navy Base. When Audrey stepped down from the carriage with her father's arm, she was suddenly struck by the sheer scale of the scene. In the harbor, a magnificent, towering ship gleamed with a metallic luster. It had no sails, only a look-out tower, and two tall smokestacks, plus two prominent open gun turrets positioned one in front and one behind. It was so majestic and so vast that the sailing ships moored nearby seemed like small, newly born dwarfs gathered around a giant. "By the storm!" "Oh, my Lord!" "An ironclad!" … A series of murmured exclamations wove together, and Audrey felt the same awe—this was a miracle of human creation, an unprecedented marvel of the sea! It was some time before the nobles, ministers, and members of the lower house recovered. Then, in the sky, a dark spot grew steadily larger, eventually filling one-third of the heavens and capturing everyone’s gaze, instantly transforming the atmosphere into one of solemnity. The sword held vertically downward, its hilt adorned with a ruby crown emblem, reflected the sunlight on either side of the carriage—this has been a symbol of the Augustan family for generations, traceable to the last century. Audrey had not yet turned eighteen, and had not yet participated in the "introduction ceremony," so under the queen's guidance, she formally entered the social life of Beckettland, marking her coming of age. She was only allowed to stand quietly by, unable to approach. Yet she did not mind much—indeed, she felt a sense of ease, even relieved, not having to face the princes. The human achievement of conquering the skies—the "miracle"—had settled firmly into place. The first to descend the stairs were the young guards, full of vigor, dressed in red military uniforms and white trousers, bearing medals on their shoulders and rifles in hand, standing in two columns, waiting for King George III, the queen, and the princes and princesses to appear. Audrey, though familiar with prominent figures, showed no interest—instead, her gaze drifted, settling on the two black-armored knights standing like statues beside the king. In this age of steel, steam, and cannon fire, there are still people who insist on wearing full armor! The cold sheen of metal, the deep black of their helmets, all convey a sense of weight, dignity, and the need for obedience. "Perhaps a higher-ranked 'Enforcer Knight'..." Odile's mind flashed back to fragments of conversations her elders had shared, prompting her curiosity, yet she hesitated to approach. With the arrival of the royal family, the ceremony finally began, and the current Prime Minister, Lord Aguchide Nigan, stepped forward to the forefront. A member of the Conservative Party, he is one of only two individuals who have become Prime Minister without noble lineage—granted the title of Lord for his outstanding contributions. Of course, Odile knows more: his brother, the main supporter of the Conservative Party, is called Palas Nigan, the current Duke of Nigan! Aguside, in his fifties, tall and slender with sparse hair and sharp eyes, surveyed the room and said: "Ladies and gentlemen, I am sure you have already seen it—this is a steel-hulled warship, a revolutionary vessel, 101 meters long, 21 meters wide, with a high freeboard design, its main armor belt 457 millimeters thick, displacing 10,060 tons. It is equipped with four 305-millimeter main guns at both fore and aft, six quick-firing guns, twelve 6-pounder guns, eighteen six-barreled machine guns, and four torpedo tubes, capable of a speed of 16 knots!" "It will be a true sovereign—it will conquer the seas!" A stir arose among the nobility, ministers, and members of parliament. Even the description of the prime minister had stirred their imaginations, and now, with the ship right before them! Aguside smiled slightly, delivered a few more remarks, and then bowed to King George III: "Your Majesty, please name it." "From Prince's Harbour, let's call it the Prince's Ship." King George III's expression was most pleased. "Prince's Ship!" "Prince's Ship!" ... The name began with the First Lord of the Admiralty and the Commander-in-Chief of the Royal Navy, and passed down through the ranks, finally reaching the ironclad, where officers and sailors erupted in unified cheers: "Prince's Ship!" Under the festive atmosphere, a series of gun salutes rang out, and King George III issued the order to set sail and conduct trial firings. Hoo! The steam whistle blew, thick plumes of smoke rose from the chimneys, and the sounds of machinery hummed faintly. The massive vessel set off—when it steamed out of harbour and its two main guns at the bow fired upon an uninhabited islet ahead, the entire crowd was stunned. Boom! Boom! Boom! The ground seemed to tremble, dust rising into the air, a gale sweeping outward, and waves being tossed violently. Prime Minister Agushide turned satisfied and addressed the nobles, ministers, and members of parliament: "From this day forward, those seven pirates who call themselves generals, and those four who have arrogantly claimed the title of king, will only tremble, awaiting their doom!" "Their era has ended—despite their individual prowess, their spectral ships, or their curses, the seas will now be ruled by iron-clad warships!" At that moment, Agushide's chief secretary deliberately asked, "Could they not build iron-clad warships themselves?" Some nobles and members of parliament nodded quietly, believing this possibility not entirely out of the question. Agushide immediately smiled and slowly shook his head: "Impossible. Never impossible!" Building such an ironclad requires three large coal-steel complexes, twenty steel mills of significant scale, sixty scientists and additional senior engineers from the Beckett Land Artillery Research Institute and the Priz Ship Research Institute, two Royal Shipyards along with nearly a hundred affiliated component factories, a Ministry of the Navy, a Shipbuilding Committee, a Cabinet, a visionary and resolute king, and a great nation producing 12 million tons of steel annually! "The pirates will never achieve this." Pausing, he then raised both arms and passionately declared: "Ladies and gentlemen, the age of giant ships and great guns has arrived!"