Summer, Nineteenth Year of the Xin Zhuo Emperor

By nightfall the Yamen River looked straight out from the demonic underworld. The night sky was not black but bore a dull red hue, cloudy and reeking of sulfur and smoke from all the exploding gunpowder and burning ships. The brackish waters themselves were now a field of garbage almost completely covering any visible water by a layer of burning wreckage, flotsam and bodies. All manner of peoples and creatures of Jiangshan, humans, cynos, sha, Berang, oni, tengu, guardian lions, qilins, phoenixes and dragons, bobbled lifelessly together upon the waters dyed red with blood.

Yet the fighting continued.

Both fleets had been badly damaged by the day of fighting, but still locked in combat, neither side was willing to break away and retreat first, so they continued to bash each other to pieces. Exhausted crews scrambled to collect arrows and bolts to fire back at the enemy, even parts of their own broken ships to hurl as grapeshot via mangonels, captains ramming their vessels into each other or boarding for hand to hand combat, and phoenixes and longs falling from the sky, some of them locked together clawing at each other's throats.

The National Union Fleet was at half strength with most of Yunwen's smaller vessels having been destroyed and Mengho's reserve and Vrana's wokou heavily engaged. The latter was creating a wide swath of destruction despite their heavy losses, abandoning their own slowly sinking vessels to storm those of their opponents. The Berang and Nanyue Fleets were only slightly less bloodied due to their agility and speed, as even now an Imperial long summoned a wave to trap a stubborn twin paddlewheel ship, locking it in place before crushing it like an egg.

Through this death and destruction sailed the Magnolia, its command post having lost its roof, its hull cracked, half its deck gone and riddled with arrows, bolts, bullets and cannonballs, but still afloat and still moving to the direction ordered by Kong at the beginning of the fight.

With a groan Morha crawled out from hold she had been thrown down into. The purple dragon had had an exhausting day, having been nearly decapitated by a cannonball, attacked by a phoenix, fought off a boarding party of qilins and oni, and evaded a collapsing tower ship. Qing and the Blue Lotus were nowhere to be seen.

But, steadying the helm on her head, the mušḫuššu laughed.

Morha was in her element. All of the trials and tribulations of the last seven years in Jiangshan had now come to the fore. The purple dragon felt alive. She felt free. She felt righteous, smiting the forces arrayed against her. The dogs of those who had oppressed her, humiliated her, bound and muzzled her, like a prisoner, slave or pet, now fell before her fury.

Now was the time to let all her anger release.

More importantly, despite all the chaos and bloodshed, Morha saw that victory now lay within her grasp.

The Imperials were faltering: they had reached the limit of their abilities and there was no breakthrough. Xianfang had fought well, but his thrusts had been parried, even if narrowly, and now his reserves were gone. The Imperial formations were in disarray, and their forces had aggregated into a teeming packed mess of vessels collided and packed together like it was one gigantic, writhing beast.

Just like Kong had planned.

Admiral Xianfang, eager to destroy the rebels, had thrown himself right into the scholar’s trap. The Imperial vessels up front, charging straight at the National Union Fleet, had unknowingly impaled themselves upon the underwater stakes, tipped with metal and connected by lengths of chain fifty chi in length, nearly invisible in the tides. As the battle continued, the other Imperial ships, damaged and seeking refuge, or accidentally collided or blocked by their comrades, had gradually added to the jam, locking them all into a loose, elliptical shape.

Now, as the Magnolia veered around the estuary battlefield and sailed towards the cone of the trapped Imperial formation, back upon land, the advisor's students removed bushes and branches of a large tree nearby, revealing a large wooden tower. Upon this camouflaged spire, connected to a thick metallic pole embedded in the ground, sat a massive copper ball. Accomplishing their mission, Kong's students quickly jumped off of and ran for dear life.

Kong's copper ball was the mušḫuššu’s target as the purple dragon’s ship went in for the kill.

Battered and bloody, Morha clambered onto the half destroyed command post, her bioluminescence flaring, casting an unearthly hue upon the already apocalyptic battlefield. Friend and foe alike stopped fighting before the blinding glow. The wind picked up around the mušḫuššu and began encircling her, pulling in the ocean spray and small cinders. The smell of ozone pervaded and the sails began to flutter as the air around the purple dragon became a gale.

“For my friends, for anyone who suffered over this damnable empire, a gift!” Morha yelled across the maritime battlefield as she summoned up a ball of lightning. “Fuck this whole thing!”

A massive ball of lightning shot out from the purple dragon and smashed into Xianfang's flagship, which appeared to glow as it was hit. The current quickly traveled through the joining chains, electrifying the other grand ships, skipping across the connected lines of metal to hit Kong’s massive conductor. It was all over in a second, but almost immediately after Morha’s shot the Imperial flagship Tianma ignited along with a few neighboring vessels along the current’s path. In an instant all was chaos within the Imperial fleet: an unknown number of unmanned ships, their entire crews now dead, slammed chaotically into neighboring vessels and sank both together, burning tower ships collapsed in upon itself, dragging down others in its wake, and fires quickly consumed the center of the fleet, traveling by burning embers, exploding ammunition or just spreading from hull to hull.

Desperately, Imperial vessels tried to free themselves from the entanglement and flee, hacking planks and cutting entangled rope and throwing anything-weapons, armor, bodies-into the waters to lighten the load.

Only a lucky few succeeded.

Morha laughed again as the crew of the Magnolia cheered at the dramatic turn of events. She pointed at a dozen combat junks breaking away from the Imperial fleet.

“Haha fuck you Emperor! Now charge!”

“You heard the lady!” Captain Lin cried. “Ramming stations!”

With another cheer the Magnolia caught a full gust of wind and sped up to a straggling junk, slamming into its rear and sending it spinning out of control, sending troops and war machines flying out. The next Imperial junk attempted to veer away or turn to attack but Morha’s ship smashed right through its hull, the split halves sinking almost immediately. A third ship fled too close to the river bank and found itself embedded in a sandbar, quickly surrendering when it found itself completely at mercy at the mušḫuššu’s panokseon.

With three enemy ships eliminated in rapid succession, Morha quickly glanced around for the remaining ships. Three were sailing rapidly down river, while a fourth quickly disappeared behind some rocky shoals.

Where were the others?

“My lady watch out!” The captain suddenly cried.

Bearing down from opposite sides two war junks rammed right into the sides of the Magnolia.

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Ma Sheng Long / Gu Guan Ren - Fisherman's Song of the East China Sea

From  OtherWords!