Chapter 160: Guaranteed Victory

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Author's Note (Story and Patreon Updates):

Go read Manifest Fantasy, my new portal isekai story where the modern U.S. discovers a fantasy world. I say this as the author of Summoning America, my new work is TEN TIMES BETTER. Also, please favorite, rate, and review if you enjoy!

NOTE: Manifest Fantasy (rewritten) is ONLY available through RoyalRoad.

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/75057/manifest-fantasy

Note 2:
161 is now out for all Tier 2 Patrons and higher! Tier 2 Patrons and higher will be able to read one chapter ahead!

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/drdoritosmd

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December 30, 1640
Cartalpas, Holy Mirishial Empire

Port Manager Bronze stood on the precipice of a wooden platform, his eyes narrowing as he took in the surreal spectacle laid before him. Beyond the city's bustling harbor, a constellation of behemoth ships anchored themselves – a stark juxtaposition to the smaller trawlers and boats around them. Even the surviving Mirishial carriers, witnesses to the cataclysmic battle that nearly engulfed the entirety of Cartalpas, seemed like children's toys in comparison. The last time he laid eyes on these symbols of technological might was during the World Leadership Conference. He hadn't expected their return so soon, nor under these dire circumstances.

Jets soared overhead, drawing his attention back to the immediate horizon. Bronze's attention shifted as a cluster of nimble boats cut through the water in tight formation. They pulled up to the shorter docks and two men from each boat leapt onto the planks. They threw ropes and secured knows all in swift, synchronized movements. Once the boats were secure, they stacked up in two parallel columns along the dock, ready to move.

The first to disembark was a man in a white uniform, gold braid prominent on his shoulder boards. He paused to address his men: a single curt nod directed the personnel behind to fan out to predetermined locations, some staying behind with the boats and others moving toward security points. After his men proceeded with their assignments, he walked up the gangway.

As he approached, the admiral extended his hand before he was even within arm's reach – a sign of confidence, Bronze thought. He shook the American's hand firmly. "Admiral Hawthorne, I'm Port Manager Bronze. Welcome to Cartalpas."

"Thank you, Mister Bronze. Your harbor is quite impressive, even in the aftermath of battle. I wish I could've seen it during the World Leadership Conference," Hawthorne observed, his eyes briefly flicking to a crane in the distance hoisting the remnants of a downed aircraft from the water.

Bronze couldn't help but glance back at the massive American warships dotting the horizon. "It's nothing compared to the fleet you've brought. Those are Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, if I'm not mistaken?"

A knowing smile crept onto the Admiral's face. "Sharp eye. You must know a thing or two about warships."

"Some," Bronze conceded, a slight smile unfurling. "I wasn't chosen to host each Conference for no reason. Frankly, I find warships 'cool', as you Americans might say. Yours in particular are quite the sight to behold."

"I could say the same about the fantastical and elegant Mirishial ships." Hawthorne walked beside Bronze as they moved toward a building at the far end of the harbor – a structure largely untouched by the recent battle, but flanked by hastily-erected barricades.

Bronze glanced at the partially sunk Mirishial warships, then back to the admiral. "Wonderful aesthetics, but lacking in the efficacy department, I must admit. Our naval command center is this way. I understand you'll be coordinating efforts with our own admirals for the foreseeable future."

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