Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1018: The Naval Battle of Carthage (3)

In an instant, many Carthaginian citizens went from mere spectators to active participants in the war, drawing the undivided attention of everyone gathered along the coast.

The Third Fleet maintained a tight pursuit of the Carthaginian Fleet, much to Midorades's satisfaction. He knew a thing or two about the Port of Carthage: its Military Port sat tucked inside the commercial basin. The two were connected but separated by a water gate, and the outer commercial port possessed a water gate of its own. The entrance simply wasn't wide enough to allow so many Warships to flood in all at once. To enter the port, the Carthaginian Fleet would be forced to decelerate, presenting the Third Fleet with a perfect opportunity to deal them a devastating blow.

"General, the Carthaginian Fleet hasn't changed course! They're continuing their retreat to the east!" The lookout's shout did not surprise Midorades. Glancing over, he had already noticed his Flagship sailing right past the Port of Carthage. Clearly, the Carthaginian commander had realized the massive risk of trying to funnel into the harbor at this juncture and had abandoned the attempt, opting to keep fleeing instead.

Midorades's face darkened as a sudden realization hit him. If the Carthaginian Fleet kept retreating like this, all of the Third Fleet's prior efforts would likely be for nothing. The coast of Africa to the east was littered with allies of Carthage; the enemy could seize a chance to duck into a friendly port at any time. The Third Fleet simply couldn't chase them forever. Once dusk fell, they would have to return to base, as their exhausted crews would desperately need large amounts of food and water...

"Damn it, Secilian, what the hell are you doing right now?!" The more Midorades thought about it, the angrier he grew, until he finally cursed aloud.

Right at that moment, the lookout above let out a startled cry. "Carthaginian Warships! Dozens of them are charging out of the port!"

Midorades jolted in shock. In a flash, he understood—the Carthaginian Fleet had never intended to retreat at all. They were luring the Third Fleet to the mouth of the port so they could turn around and trap them in a pincer attack.

In this critical moment, he had no time to regret dropping his guard in his eagerness for glory. Nor did he have time to wonder how the Carthaginian Fleet had conjured up so many extra Warships (the truth was, following the surprise naval battle near Eryx, the shipyards of Carthage and the Phoenician Allied States had worked themselves to the bone, rushing construction to supply dozens of new vessels). He decisively barked out his orders: "Sound the bugles immediately! Form a circular defensive array!"

By now, the crews on many of the Daonian Warships were already aware of the enemy vessels attacking from the rear, yet they showed little panic. Upon seeing the signal flags hoisted by the Flagship, they immediately and methodically began shifting their formation. Both Midorades and the Third Fleet had faced a similar, if not more perilous, situation during the naval battle off Sardinia. The captains and crews were experienced in this. Furthermore, thanks to Midorades's lingering caution, the fleet had largely maintained its marching formation, making the transition into a circular array relatively smooth.

The retreating Carthaginian Warships turned their bows around one after another, reversing course to charge right at the Daonian Warships.

The Daunian 3rd Fleet was now trapped in the deadly peril of a pincer attack.

Because this clash unfolded right outside the harbor, the Carthaginian senators on the breakwater wall had a much clearer view. They could see the Daonian Fleet desperately contracting, trying to huddle into a tight defensive ball. Meanwhile, the premeditated strike of the Carthaginian Fleet was incredibly ferocious. They clung to their foes like maggots to a corpse, running the Daonian Warships ragged. A few straggling enemy vessels were quickly overtaken and entangled by Carthaginian ships, only to be brutally rammed by the next arriving Carthaginian Warship. (In reality, these Daonian Corvus Warships had volunteered to stay behind and intercept the enemy, sacrificing themselves so the rest of the fleet could form up in time.)

Now, the Carthaginian Fleet possessed not only numerical superiority in Warships but also the tactical initiative on the battlefield. Fighting right on their own doorstep, their crews boasted morale that easily matched their opponents'.

Although the Daonian Fleet resisted tenaciously, they were completely surrounded.

The senators' worries evaporated, replaced by beaming smiles. Even Adrusbal praised loudly, "Truly worthy of the name Morbal! It seems he is about to secure yet another naval victory! And the spoils this time will far exceed the last!"

"Indeed. With this victory, the Theonians won't dare act so arrogantly at the negotiating table," Tepanco promptly agreed.

"With a victory like this, why even bother with peace talks?! We can double our support for Morbal and let the Carthaginian navy reclaim total dominance over the seas!" Pretasdrubal excitedly retorted.

"We have to face reality. Even if we wipe out this Daonian Fleet, Daionia still possesses far more Warships than we do. Peace talks remain our best option!" Okriton immediately countered.

...

Both sides once again locked horns in a heated debate atop the city wall.

"My lords, do not celebrate too early. This Daonian Fleet is not so easily broken!" Annobas suddenly said with a cold sneer.

"Could it be that the man who nearly lost our entire fleet is simply jealous of Morbal's achievements, and doesn't want to see our navy win?" a senator of the Magonid faction mocked loudly, inciting indignant glares from quite a few present.

"It seems your previous punishment was far too light. The Senate should reopen your trial!" another senator suggested loudly, glaring fiercely. This surprisingly drew murmurs of agreement from the crowd, terrifying Annobas into silence.

"Since when did the Senate become so cowardly as to shut out dissenting opinions?!" Hanno stepped forward, throwing his support behind Annobas. "Our war against Daionia has dragged on to this point, and we are entirely on the back foot. Isn't this precisely because certain people among us were so utterly arrogant? Because they assumed we could easily crush Daionia, even boasting that they would 'drive the Theonians out of Sicily within a year!' And what are the results?! We lost Corsica and Sardinia, and we can barely hold onto Sicily. Now the Theonians are knocking on our very doors! It is high time we listened to different opinions, so some of the hotheads among us can finally sober up! Tell us, Annobas. What looks wrong about this situation?!"

Hanno swept his imposing gaze over the crowd. Out of sheer awe for this powerful figure, no one dared to raise a word of protest. Even Pretasdrubal, knowing he lacked the moral high ground, fell into a sullen silence.

Annobas gave a slight cough and spoke in a subdued voice. "Although Lord Morbal successfully tricked the Daonian Fleet with his stratagem, the ensuing pincer attack failed to throw them into chaos. This is because the Daonian Warships on the outer perimeter fought desperately to block the assault, completely disregarding the risk of being rammed and sunk. Their fighting spirit is incredibly tenacious!" Annobas couldn't help but sigh, his mind drifting back to the naval battle off Sardinia. His own stratagem back then had actually been quite sound. Caught in a pincer attack while heavily outnumbered, any other city-state's fleet would have shattered instantly. Yet the Daonian Fleet had somehow carved out a bloody path, turning certain defeat into victory. The sheer ferocity of their resolve was enough to make anyone shudder.

"Look—our Warships have stopped charging straight ahead and are now circling their flanks. This proves that the Daonian Fleet has successfully formed their circular array, making our ships too wary to recklessly slam into their defensive line—"

"So what?" Pretasdrubal retorted. "The Daonian Fleet is already surrounded. We're only holding off our attacks to minimize our casualties. What's the Theonians' excuse for not attacking? Are they just waiting for nightfall so they can run away?" His mocking words drew hearty laughter from a small group of senators.

"Everyone knows that prolonged rowing and combat puts immense strain on Warship crews. They require timely nourishment," another senator of the Magonid faction added. "But the battlefield is right here in Carthage. The Daonian Fleet has no way to resupply or rest, and their base is a hundred li away. Once night falls, trapped in the Carthaginian Fleet's encirclement, will those exhausted Daonian crews even have the strength to row their ships back? They will have no choice but to surrender with their hands tied."

"We all know that for the Daonian Fleet, sitting out there is just a slow death sentence. The Theonians themselves must know this as well! I remember... during the naval battle off Sardinia that I commanded, it was this very same fleet that we had surrounded. In response, they launched a frenzied, desperate assault, and in the end... not only did they shatter our encirclement... they utterly defeated us..." Annobas's expression was fraught with pain and anxiety as he forced himself to recount the memory he loathed most. "Yet this time, they are in no rush. They calmly set up a defensive array, as though they are relying on some sort of backup. We must be vigilant!"

'Vigilant of what? The Daonian Fleet's reinforcements?!' Hanno's mind suddenly raced.

Before Annobas could answer, the lighthouse by the port just ahead of them suddenly began tolling once more. "Clang! Clang! Clang!"

"Why is that infernal bell still ringing?!" one senator loudly complained without thinking. After all, the bell had already been ringing non-stop ever since the Daonian Fleet first appeared near the port.

"I'm afraid there are new enemies!" Annobas was the first to react, his eyes straining nervously toward the sea ahead.

The crowd flinched in shock.

At that moment, the lighthouse keeper leaned out from the stone window at the tower's peak and screamed down at the top of his lungs, "Another fleet has appeared ahead! There are so many black Warships!"

Another Daonian Fleet!! ... Upon hearing this news, the senators went pale, immediately erupting into panicked shouting. "Quick! Someone go notify Morbal! Tell him to pull the fleet back into the port immediately! ..."

The soldiers atop the wall quickly clustered together, shouting in unison toward the sea. "Retreat! The enemy's reinforcements are here!! The enemy reinforcements have arrived!!! ..."

With the two warring sides clashing right outside the port, the crews on the nearest Warships could faintly make out the tolling of the lighthouse bell and the frantic screams of the sentries.