Reincarnated as an Imperial Prince

Back from the location of the First Imperial Yamato Fleet. The hair from the back of Admiral Yamamoto’s neck stood on end, he felt something wrong as he picked up a strange sound in the distance. It was a familiar sound. A speeding sound in particular, like something small zipping through the wind at high speed. A plane perhaps? No, the engine of a plane wouldn’t make a sound like that.

Curious as to what it is, Admiral Yamamoto turned towards the sound. But before he can find it out himself, an enormous explosion rocked the very seas his ship is sailing onto. He instinctively ducked for cover as the screws rattled and electrical lines zapped. A blast wave followed after, shattering the windows of the bridge, sending shrapnels of glass into the air, embedding itself on the walls as well as the skins of the sailors and officers present inside.

It lasted for a second but for him, it felt like an hour of a nightmare.

As soon as the pandemonium stopped, Admiral Yamamoto slowly rose from his feet, his eyes darting side to side to check whether there would be some sort of an aftershock. But, there wasn’t.

In his standing position, Yamamoto looked around the bridge and saw extensive damage the blast made to the interior. It was a mess. It was not long after however, he noticed a black silhouette reflecting on one of the many broken shards on the ground. He turned to look around only to see a thick billowing black smoke from the forward deck of the Nagato Class Battleship.

A horrified expression blanketed his face as one of the mighty and colossal ships of the Yamato Empire was destroyed by an unknown. He watched, his eyes trembling in shock as the bow began to ascend until it snapped in two, sending the top half down into the sea and a giant ocean wave outward.

.For a moment, silence settled over the bridge. Then mutterings from the crew started sounding behind his ears.

“Admiral, we’ve been attacked!” Katsuro said in a loud voice but for Yamamoto, it was a sound that gradually became drowned out. He could feel his legs give away underneath him. His mind raced as trepidation washed over his senses.

He tried to calm himself down by breathing deeply through his nose. It was effective at least as his heart rate gradually slowed down. However, he couldn’t shake off a feeling of uneasiness that lingered over him like a misty fog. Yamamoto took this time to survey the situation.

“Where did the attack come from?” Yamamoto asked.

“It came from the north, Admiral. We already had our guys look for the attacker but found nothing,” Katsuro reported.

“Nothing? Are you sure about that?” Yamamoto looked at him, who nodded in response to the question.

“Check it again, there’s no way that attack came from nowhere.”

After saying that, Yamamoto stepped outside the bridge and looked up into the clear blue sky. There was no plane to be seen or heard. He then flickered his eyes to the horizon and saw no battleships or even black smoke billowing in the air.

A footstep echoed from behind Yamamoto. “Admiral, we’ve checked again even with our rangefinders. There’s nothing but the ocean around us.”

“That’s impossible, there’s no way those attacks came from nowhere.”

As a veteran of the Rutho-Yamato war who participated in the naval battle. He found it impossible for an attack like this to happen. Assuming that it was a battleship, to engage in naval combat, one must see their enemy first so that they can calculate variables to make an attack. Then, similar to how naval battle was done in the 18th century, both parties sailed in a line parallel to one another, firing volleys of armor piercing or high explosive shells until one side was sunk.

But it didn’t happen here. Instead, a surprise attack came from nowhere or seemingly, beyond the horizon, hitting them with great precision and accuracy. It would be possible if there’s a plane circling above them that is giving the main fleet the bearing and distance. However, there’s no plane. So how did the Ruthenians manage to pull off such a surprise attack on them?! Luck? No, that’s stupid.

Just as his thoughts were running in circles, he remembered something. The Ruthenians’ technology. Over the course of four years, their military might has grown at an unprecedented rate. to the point, it even worried the Deutschland Empire and the Britannia Empire.

Yamamoto has no knowledge of the current systems they integrated on their ships, planes, or armor. In short, they are fighting blind here. With no information about the new battle doctrine of the Ruthenia, their hopes of winning the war dwindled.

“What’s the status of the fleet? Did we sustain damage? Are there any ships in our fleet that received a direct hit?”

“No, Admiral. Only one of our ships was unfortunately sunk,” Katsuro somberly replied while shaking his head in disappointment. His eyes shifted to the sunk Nagato where he witnessed a fire dancing on the water surface, a large amount of black ichor floating around the capsized ship, and a flotilla of rescue boats pulling the survivors out of the water.

“Man battle station,” Yamamoto grumbled. “There’s no way they are going to stop here. We are an open target and our position has been pre-sighted. As soon as they fired another volley, I want our men to immediately calculate the approximate bearing and distance of the enemy fleet.”

“That will be done, Admiral,” Katsuro saluted before returning back to the bridge.

Yamamoto can hear his voice from outside relaying his orders to the plotting room through the radio.

Other ships communicated with one another through flashing lights, informing them to be ready for another attack.

One minute later, Yamamoto heard a sound again from afar. It whistled ominously like death’s knell. Like a death knell, it pierced right through one of the main batteries of the Kongo Class Battlecruiser, disabling it and killing the personnel within.

Columns of water erupted near and far from the flagship.

Yamamoto rushed into the bridge and barked. “Perform a zig-zag maneuver now!”

The helmsman began spinning the helm in an alternate manner. Since they don’t know where the shot is coming from, they have to adapt a defensive stance. With this, the chances of them getting hit by a wild yet calculated will be slim.

The rest of the ships of the fleet began doing the same, not wanting to end up like the Nagato.

“Sir, we’ve calculated the approximate bearing and the distance of the enemy fleet based on the last volley. It’s one-two-five northwest at a distance of five thousand meters.” Katsuro informed Yamamoto.

“That’s more than enough. Transmit my orders to all the ships to commence fire on the enemy position. Now!”

All the battleships began aiming their main batteries towards the approximate position of the Ruthenian Fleet. Moments after, they pulled the trigger.

An ear-deafening explosion filled the morning sky. It sounded like a million thunderclaps exploding together. The recoil of the main batteries was powerful enough to offset the ship by five meters.

In total, almost one hundred shells hounded the Ruthenian Fleet but no score was hit as the Ruthenian Fleet was not there, to begin with.

“All ships pushed forward!” Yamamoto ordered.

“Why sir?”

“Because we are at a disadvantage position. They know where we are but we don’t know where they are. We need a clear view of their ships otherwise they’ll pick us up one by one.”

“Roger!”

Back at the Ruthenian Fleet, in the Imperator Aleksandr IV Battleship, Admiral Sergey Gorshkov grinned.

“Two volleys and we sank one ship and damaged another,” he remarked. “The radars above are more effective than rangefinders. We won’t have to let ourselves be seen by an enemy.”

“Sir, the first Imperial Yamato Fleet is heading towards us with a speed of ten knots while performing a zig-zag maneuver,” one of the officers reported.

“They are charging towards us. They are desperate to know where we are. But we won’t give them that. Put the ship on reverse and fire at them as we do so.”

“Aye aye captain!”

“We had our fun boys. Now let’s give our comrade beside us some time to shine,” Sergey glanced at the Petropavlovsk Class Aircraft Carrier with propeller planes being readied on the flight deck.

“Thank you, admiral,” transmission from the Petropavlovsk Aircraft Carrier sounded on the radio.