Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 8.7

But something was amiss outside the ship.

“What’s going on? Uncle, why hasn’t the tide of battle turned in our favor yet?”

By now, Callisto’s fleet should have raised the white flag of surrender. Yet, the sun was already high, and there was no sign of an enemy surrender. All Ivry could see were the remnants of dozens of burning ships sinking into the blood-red sea. Thick smoke obscured the horizon, but the wails of the dying pierced through the haze.

“The Second Prince is a seasoned naval commander, Your Highness. He’s not an easy opponent to defeat,” said Duke Harrington, standing stoically beside Roen.

While it was true that Callisto was an experienced admiral, Roen’s forces had superior numbers, both in ships and soldiers. The battle had long since devolved into hand-to-hand combat, where strategy mattered little. Overwhelming numbers should have ensured victory.

Yet, the stalemate persisted. Roen clenched his teeth, glaring at the battlefield.

“Uncle, something’s wrong. Our troops seem to be outnumbered. Am I imagining things?”

“What? That can’t be,” Harrington replied, his expression darkening as he scrutinized the scene. To his dismay, Roen’s observation was accurate. Despite the casualties inflicted by Callisto’s forces, the number of enemy combatants seemed unnaturally high.

“Why…?”

At that moment, a messenger arrived in a lifeboat, collapsing to one knee before Roen.

“Your Highness, our ships are being captured! Thirty-four sunk, forty-seven seized, and the remaining forty-nine are in critical condition!”

“What? Only that many left?!”

Roen whipped his head around, trying to assess the damage from the deck. The chaos made it impossible to gauge the exact losses, but the reported numbers were shocking.

“What nonsense is this? Report properly!” Roen bellowed.

“I-it’s true, Your Highness…”

“How? Our ships had twice the manpower of the enemy! Are you saying we still lost?”

“Your Highness… the rowers… the rowers rebelled and joined the enemy…”

“What?!”

Roen’s face turned pale. He grabbed the messenger by the collar, snarling.

“What do you mean, the slaves rebelled? How did they break their chains?!”

“The Second Prince’s soldiers, they… they freed them as soon as they boarded, Your Highness!”

“Those wretched vermin!” Roen spat, shoving the messenger aside. His nerves frayed, he ruffled his hair in frustration. If the report was true, the battle was already lost. The only option left was to retreat to Gunther Harbor and regroup for another chance.

Duke Harrington, evidently sharing the sentiment, cautiously suggested, “Your Highness, I believe we should order a full retreat.”

Roen chewed his lower lip, the metallic taste of blood seeping into his mouth. Even retreat was fraught with danger. Gunther Harbor wasn’t close, and Callisto’s forces might intercept them before they could escape.

He finally nodded, turning briskly to the helmsman.

“Row at full speed. Retreat to Gunther Harbor.”

“Understood, Your Highness. Shall I inform the fleet—”

“No. Do not inform the fleet.”

“Excuse me?”

Duke Harrington blinked in surprise. Roen’s lips curved into a lazy smirk.

“Why are you shocked? If we all retreat together, those wretched dogs will chase us down and overtake us. Retreating isn’t simple, Uncle.”

“But, Your Highness, no commander abandons the battlefield.”

“Who knows I’m even on this ship?”

“…Are you abandoning the fleet, Your Highness?”

“Someone has to buy us time. If I survive, I can plan for the future, can’t I? Uncle, you’re the one saying strange things. Do you think we have more than one life to spare?”

Harrington fell silent. Roen’s reasoning left no room for argument. Ships could be rebuilt, and soldiers could be recruited again. The most important task was for Roen and himself to survive and return safely.

In the end, Harrington nodded slowly. Roen smiled in satisfaction as the ship carrying them began creaking, pulling away from the battlefield.

Callisto’s sharp golden eyes caught sight of an enemy ship making an abrupt maneuver, seemingly turning its bow away from the chaos. For a long while, he had gripped the wheel tightly, his focus fixed ahead, but now his eyes glinted with interest.

“Well, well, it seems the rat is trying to flee.”

“Are they retreating? But I don’t see any signal flags.”

“It’s a retreat, all right, but it looks like they’re slipping away alone.”

“What? That can’t be.”

“See for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Ivry squinted in the direction Callisto indicated, furrowing her brow. As implausible as it seemed, the ship carrying Roen did appear to be abandoning the battlefield.

Perhaps out of lingering guilt for once serving at Roen’s side, Ivry hesitated before suggesting another possibility.

“Maybe the First Prince isn’t on that ship. It could be heading out to request reinforcements or something.”

“Sure, that’s possible,” Callisto replied with an unexpected nod. Ivry, who hadn’t believed her own suggestion much, was surprised by his reaction.

However, Callisto’s next words were predictably in character.

“It might be true, or it might not. Either way, we can catch them and find out.”

“…You’re saying the commander is going to leave the battlefield to chase a retreating enemy ship?”

Even if their objectives differed, the outcome would be the same as Roen’s cowardly retreat. As reckless as Callisto could be, surely even he wouldn’t go that far. Ivry raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

Callisto lazily shook his head and, with an unusually gentle expression, whispered sweetly, “When did I ever say I’d leave the battlefield?”

By now, Ivry knew Callisto well enough. She had spent enough time with him to recognize that he became oddly charming whenever he was about to do something outrageously reckless. Watching his calm face, still speckled with blood, Ivry asked warily, “Then what are you planning to do?”

Callisto’s long, narrow eyes crinkled in a radiant smile. If not for the droplets of blood dripping from his lashes, it would have been a dazzlingly disarming grin.

In a calm, deliberate tone, he said, “Before the rat manages to flee…”

He raised his index finger, pointing at the enemy ship gradually moving farther away. His expression suggested he was genuinely excited, as though he had stumbled upon something entertaining. Clearly, the previous battles had not been thrilling enough for him.

“I’ll ram it and smash it to pieces. That’ll keep it from going anywhere, won’t it?”

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