Day 12, Month 8, Year 469 of the Fifth Age
Naval Station Port Verses
Seabirds were flying around over the port city.
On the way returning to his ship, Southern Left Navy's Fourth Fleetmaster Rhodim stood on the deck of a picket boat as it cut through the calm waters of the harbor, following the seabirds with his gaze as they wheeled and dipped effortlessly through the sky unlike the vessels sitting still like dormant giants around him.
The Eastern Anchorage, toward which the boat was steering, was dominated by a cluster of pale gray steel hulls sprawled across the area. The largest among them, the battleships of the Battle Squadron, measured between 170 and over 200 meters and were arranged in a double row, grouped by their Divisions in the middle of the bay. They were encircled by mooring points occupied by the smaller cruisers and large torpedo boats of the fleet. Among those, Rhodim's flagship was distinguished by the Vice Admiral's command flag, a square blue banner featuring a golden World Tree design encircled by a white border. This particular vessel was also anchored slightly off the usual formation, some distance away from the battleship rows and closer to the midpoint between the Eastern and Western Anchorages where their comrades of the Fifth Fleet were making their berth.
As Kain's second-oldest newtype class, the Zenebas-class battleship Askembla serving as the flagship for the Southern Left Navy's main battlegroup, was by no means the Divine Royal Navy's most powerful capital ship. In fact, the class's ten 12-ar (30,5 cm) main battery and armor designed to withstand its own gunfire made it one of the weakest capital ships in the current War of Fate to the point that it was vulnerable to some of the battlecruisers, which despite the trade of armor for speed, carried larger and more devastating armaments than the Zenebas. The Askembla was now the sole surviving ship of her class; it was nothing short of a miracle that she survived the fleet operations where even Kain's stronger and more advanced ships were sent to the bottom of the ocean one after another.
"No new orders from Headquarters."
As soon as he arrived at the Askembla, Rhodim made his way to the bridge and curtly summarized the result of the meeting despite the grim disappointment that flickered across the faces around him. In particular, the Fourth Fleet's Chief of Staff made a comment about their situation in an uncertain tone.
"We've been boxed in here for so long that even the most severe of the ships' damages from both fleets are already repaired and ready for action."
Glancing at the Fifth Fleet's battlecruisers in the distance, Rhodim nodded absentmindedly. "Well, the situation is not ideal, but as long as there are no orders to sortie, we have no other course of action but to wait and hope that our presence alone is enough to scare those Gra Valkans from doing something stupid."
In reality, the Fleetmaster inwardly felt a surge of frustration, despite his calm demeanor. The lack of decisive orders and the stalled operations were starting to wear not only on him but also on everyone. The situation had been static for too long, and though he tried to keep a brave face, the endless waiting gnawed.
The idea of a "fleet in being" was crucial to the Southern Left Navy's strategy in this Gevura campaign. By keeping a visible, albeit inactive, presence, the Kainians aimed to deter the Gra Valkans from taking certain actions around the Lyngbakr Sea. The threat of their sudden involvement could force the Gra Valkas Imperial Navy to keep their battleships concentrated nearby to pin them down, limiting their ability to monitor Kain's coasts and providing an opportunity for daredevils to defeat the enemy piecemeal. The problem, however, was that since the enemy's southern deployment was not based at the Serafym Peninsula, where the Kainians had destroyed the ports during their retreat, their exact location remained unknown.
Since the beginning of the current war eight years ago, the Kainian Divine Royal Navy has suffered catastrophic losses. Overmatched in combat, 60% of its ships were already sunk in a series of pivotal battles against the Gra Valkas Imperial Navy. The aftermath has left the port facilities, which the lost fleets protected, in ruins. Enemy naval bombardments have obliterated these crucial installations, severely impairing the Navy's ability to replenish and repair its remaining vessels. The Kainians fought hard and sank enemy ships, but the ferocity of the engagements and the unparalleled savagery of the Gra Valkans have led to such extensive destruction that Kain's capacity to fend off the dreaded seaborne invasion of their homeland has been significantly compromised.
What's left of the Divine Royal Navy's main battle group after such a humiliating disaster were three numbered fleets comprised of 10 newtype battleships, 8 oldtype battleships, 6 battlecruisers, 8 armored cruisers, 13 light cruisers, 71 large torpedo boats, and 16 fleet submarines.
The enemy was at least twice those numbers.
The southern battle groups not directly facing the Gra Valkas Empire's mainland were the only Kainian naval forces that remained, protected by geography and distance from Gra Valkas. The Southern Left Navy, positioned near the Serafym Peninsula and consisting of the Fourth and Fifth Fleets, remained a notable force, though its strength had been gradually diminished as they tried to push the Gra Valkans back to the seas. Despite their efforts, they have steadily lost ships over time.
Once, the Southern Left Navy faced a dire threat from the Gra Valkan army invading overland towards Gevura and threatening to imperil the very foundation of Kainian naval operations in the region. Thankfully they had managed to reclaim Gevura and push the invaders back, thwarting what had seemed an inevitable disaster.
They've won a great battle, but they've heard out there that the Gra Valkan executioner units would start "liberating" the people in the occupied islands and territory from this mortal coil, a retaliation for every victory the Kainians achieved. The ensuing bloodbath would surely make their wretched Serpent God proud.
"There is also no sign of movement from the enemy. I find this highly suspicious," said the Fourth Fleet's Strategic Advisor.
"It is natural to think so, but I'm glad you're thinking the same thing as me," Rhodim crossed his arms. The Fleetmaster's gut feeling and experience both told him that the Gra Valkans would not remain idle for long. He was aware of how the Gra Valkans measured his Port Verses battle group as a great obstacle in their campaign to secure the Serafym Peninsula.
Remembering the meeting, the idea that the Gra Valkans were relocating a portion of their naval assets to the other theater of operations had come from intelligence reports, but Rhodim couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. It was speculated that the Gra Valkas Empire's objective was to hold Gevura before the "armistice season" came. Logically, this means that they should be ramping up their efforts by now. Rhodim was not conceited enough to believe that the enemy had simply stopped looking for ways to overcome the Southern Left Navy.
"...If they're moving forces, it's either a feint or they somehow choose to leave this area exposed for some reason, which would be really foolish of them."
"A trap, then."
"Mm-hmm. I don't quite trust that 'intelligence' report. If they're really pulling back assets, there must be a reason. And if there's a reason, it means they're planning something, and there's no doubt that we are the targets."
"So, that's why we've been ordered to hold position," the Strategic Advisor nodded.
Until they know for certain what the Gra Valkans are up to, they can't risk playing into their hands. The Southern Left Navy Fourth and Fifth Fleets will remain anchored at Port Verses as an order from the Grand Commander.
The Askembla's Shipmaster opened his mouth just as the conversation began to quiet momentarily.
"What of Fleetmaster Mehujael, sir?"
Rhodim acknowledged him with a brief flitting of gaze and a burst of dry laugh. Vice Admiral Mehujael, Rhodim's junior and the Fifth Fleetmaster, commands a high-speed unit made up of the Southern Left Navy's battlecruisers. Somewhat fitting for an aggressive commander who never shuts up about slaughtering the Gra Valkans, her unit took advantage of Rhodim's diversion to engage and sink the enemy transport convoys as they tried to reinforce Gevura through the Lyngbakr Sea side of the Serafym Peninsula.
"Oh, she doesn't like the situation any more than I do and tried to argue against the suggestion, but the Grand Commander talked her down, as he usually does."
A grim chuckle came from around him. Mehujael did comment to Rhodim some time ago that she humored his advice as a favor, having endured the brunt of the enemy's heavy artillery and sustained mounting losses while her unit dealt with the weaker opponents who could barely put up a fight.
"...Speaking of which... two days from now is that day," the Chief of Staff said quietly, almost to himself.
"Hmm..."
Rhodim's brow furrowed a little, recalling the meaning behind those words.
That day referred to the Day of the Prophecy—when the Priest-King, the sole individual in the world able to commune with the Sibling Gods, would receive and relay divine wisdom that influenced the nation's decisions in governance, science, and military strategy. Priest-King Lazuardi had foretold that his death was imminent, marking the end of his 66-year reign, and that a new Priest-King would soon take his place on the Throne of the Nine. Yes... a sickly boy named Lapis, Rhodim recalled.
Someone among the staff muttered in response, "I wouldn't get our hopes too high for anything military-related." There was a murmur of agreement, and a few smiles. Rhodim knew what they meant. Despite the grandeur of the Prophecy, it had been a long-standing gallows humor within the military that those visions rarely favored the war effort against the Gra Valkas Empire. Every year, the Priest-King had emerged from the Grand Temple of the Sibling Gods with insights about agriculture, trade, medicine, and even cultural pursuits—basically anything but matters that could overturn the tide of the War of Fate in their favor.
In fact, while the Divine Kingdom's farmlands and mines have flourished, and breakthroughs in disease prevention have led to a stronger, healthier populace, the war front had received little more than cryptic remarks or abstract advice that never translated into actionable plans. At this rate, there will be more tribes out there that will see the Divine Kingdom as having lost the Heavenly Mandate and, inspired by Gra Valkas, turn to more Disobediences.
Rhodim wanted to be realistic, that it's impossible for them to hinge their gambit solely on vague words coming out of the Priest-King's mouth, but they say miracles do happen from time to time.
...But when even is it? When there's nothing left of Kain's land and people? The Gra Valkans are stealing their land and slaughtering their people in the name of True Freedom as they speak. At least the Kainians were honest about their religious war. The Gra Valkans were the most disgusting hypocrites Rhodim had ever seen—to conjure justifications after justifications out of thin air when their war is religiously motivated in all but name.
...Still, despite his jadedness, Rhodim wouldn't refuse a miracle or two himself.
In the end, he just sighed, breaking the banter.
"Things are as usual, then."
It was two days before Lapis' coronation and first Prophecy.
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Day 13, Month 8, Year 469 of the Fifth Age
Grand Temple of the Sibling Gods, THE HEART
Near Gilvaris, the city that served as the political hub of the Kain Divine Kingdom, stood Níu, the religious capital colloquially referred to as "THE HEART." Together, both cities formed the twin capitals of the Divine Kingdom, each embodying a distinct pillar of its governance. While Gilvaris represented the worldly affairs, housing the Throne of the Nine, Three Agencies and Six Wardenries, military headquarters, and the intricate bureaucratic systems that managed the continent-spanning territories, as the beating heart of religious devotion Níu housed the High Priesthood, the Grand Temple of the Sibling Gods and its branches, Wings of Ashir and Mirook.
Perched atop a plateau southeast of Gilvaris and encircled by forests, Níu is centered around a lake. The city's structures line its shores, with up to nine gates serving as the entrances radiating out from the edges of the city toward the horizon. The Grand Temple stands on an island in the exact center of the lake, rising like an immense crown with its spires visible from nearly every corner of THE HEART. The Grand Temple is connected to the northern shore of the lake by a single, imposing bridge crafted from white stone and lined with statues of the Sibling Gods in their various divine forms.
Lapis and his entourage visited the Grand Temple in preparation for tomorrow's Day of the Prophecy, doubling as his coronation as the next Priest-King of the Divine Kingdom. Arriving just as the sun began to set to see its rays casting the golden hue over the lake's tranquil waters, they were greeted by a group of people dressed in elaborate vestments who had gathered at the entrance.
As the evening wore on, the welcoming ceremony at the Grand Temple came to a graceful end. Lapis and his older sister Larimar made their way to the accommodations prepared for the Heir within the Grand Temple's premises. Inside the spacious, softly lit chamber, Larimar helped his brother to bed, taking a moment to adjust his pillows and ensure he had everything he needed for the night.
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Just as she was about to leave the room, a soft knock echoed through the chamber.
"Who could that be...?" Larimar murmured with a slight frown as she glanced toward the door.
"Only one way to find out, sister," Lapis replied softly. "Would you please help open the door?"
"...Very well, brother. Let's hope it's nothing serious."
Walking over to the door, Larimar opened it to reveal Roshe standing in the light of the hallway. As Lapis' tutor and an official of the Wardenry of Rites, one of the Divine Kingdom's six Wardenries in charge of religious ceremonies and rituals, he was naturally part of Lapis' entourage.
"Master Roshe?" Larimar greeted, a note of surprise in her voice. She stepped aside to let Lapis see the man. "Is something the matter?"
Roshe bowed his head apologetically. "My deepest apologies, My Disciple, Sister Larimar. I didn't mean to disturb your rest, but there is a matter I must address immediately."
"I see... Master Roshe, please come in."
Lapis, already propped up against the pillows, offered Roshe a tired, but gentle smile. After the older man entered and stood before him, Lapis asked him a question.
"What is it that requires attention at this hour?"
"...It seems that there has been an oversight. Somehow... the officials neglected to finalize the appointment of personnel who are meant to be your personal security detail for as long as you're occupying the Throne of the Nine."
Lapis' smile faded only slightly, but he kept his voice even. "An oversight?" He glanced at Larimar, who had folded her arms. "And you felt it important enough to inform me in person."
"Yes. I..." Roshe cleared his throat in discomfort. "...I believed it was imperative that you be made aware immediately. The appointment must be made before the ceremony, as it directly concerns your safety."
Lapis tilted his head, internally wondering if this was truly the correct procedure—he thought that such matters would typically be handled by the Wardenry of Rites without even requiring his direct involvement, especially so close to the Day of the Prophecy. His coronation was mere hours away, and he had hoped for at least a quiet night of rest. This sudden urgency seemed rather unusual.
"Very well, Master Roshe. Let's just resolve this quickly. Please proceed with the necessary steps."
"Thank you, My Disciple. I will introduce them now."
Lapis blinked in surprise. "Introduce them... now?"
"Yes, they've already been waiting just outside," Roshe stepped aside to face the door. "You may enter."
Larimar straightened up and once again shared a glance with her brother. The abruptness of the situation seemed odd—but whatever.
Two figures stepped into the room, a young man and a young woman, both appearing to be in their late teens. They stood tall, their posture immaculate as they moved in unison in a way that stirred envy in Lapis. Each wore priestly robes that denoted their affiliations.
The young man, with short platinum blonde hair, was adorned in a pristine white-and-gold robe of the Wing of Ashir. His expression was calm and exuded a quiet grace. Beside him, the young woman, whose long black hair framed her delicate face, was clad in the somber yet elegant black-and-white robes of the Wing of Mirook. Their facial features and blue eyes were similar, Lapis and Larimar noted. Probably siblings.
Roshe stepped forward, gesturing toward the two figures. "My Disciple, Sister Larimar, allow me to introduce Odin and Frigga. They are siblings from a good family, and they have been selected from the ranks of the Temple Guard to serve as your personal security detail. Both are highly skilled and fully dedicated to the duties of the First Temple Guard."
Lapis observed his would-be protectors with curiosity. Their youthful faces belied the weight of the roles they now carried.
"You both seem quite young for such a position."
At Lapis' inquiry, Odin bowed slightly and answered with a calm tone. "Indeed, Your Grace, we are both considered young at nineteen years old."
Lapis was pleasantly surprised. "Nineteen?" he repeated, glancing at Larimar who raised an eyebrow but remained silent. "Such youth, yet already entrusted with such responsibility. I commend you both."
Frigga bowed as well, her soft voice adding, "It is our greatest honor to be chosen for this sacred duty. We swear to protect you with our lives, Your Grace."
Roshe nodded toward the siblings, and they both took a step forward, kneeling before Lapis' bedside.
Odin spoke first. "In the name of the Sibling Gods, Ashir and Mirook, I, Odin, swear upon my soul and my blade that I shall protect you, Priest-King, with unwavering loyalty and courage."
Frigga followed, her voice softer but no less resolute. "I, Frigga, swear upon the same, that I will guard you with my life, and stand between you and all threats for as long as you hold the Throne of the Nine."
"........."
Being reminded that it was mere hours away before the people of this realm would address him as "His Eminence," it was saddening that Lapis' coronation would mean the death of his predecessor, and his death would mark another's coronation. Still, Lapis felt the gravity of their words settles over the room. Despite their youth, their conviction was palpable, and he could sense that the siblings truly meant every word. In admiration, he inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, Odin, Frigga. I hereby accept your oaths, and I will place my trust in your protection."
With the conclusion of their short impromptu ceremony, Roshe looked relieved that his disciple took things rather well. "It is done, My Disciple. You may now rest assured that your safety will be in capable hands. Effective tonight, Odin and Frigga will be your First Temple Guards, along with the duties and responsibilities that entail."
Lapis smiled faintly. "Very well. I shall rest easy tonight, then."
Roshe bowed once more before leaving the room, and the two new guards took their positions, silent and vigilant.
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Day 14, Month 8, Year 469 of the Fifth Age
Grand Temple of the Sibling Gods, THE HEART
In the Divine Kingdom, the Temple Guard was a prestigious and highly selective force, being an elite special forces unit established and trained by the Wardenry of Rites, separate from the military, to serve directly under the command of the Priest-King. The Temple Guard's members swore oaths of loyalty and dedication, often serving until the end of their lives. Within the Temple Guard, the First Temple Guards held an especially revered position. Tasked with the personal security of the Priest-King, they were not merely warriors but extensions of the Sibling Gods' divine protection. Their service was considered a profound honor, not only for the individuals themselves but also for their families. Being selected for this role was a testament to exceptional skill, discipline, and unblemished dedication to the Sibling Gods and the realm. The honor was immense and carried with it great expectations, as the First Temple Guards became the closest line of defense and the most trusted confidants of the Priest-King.
Odin and Frigga were those honored to take such a loaded position.
After ensuring that no threats would come close to their charge's room, Odin climbed the pinnacle of one of the Grand Temple's spires. In silence, his gaze wandered over THE HEART's cityscape, where the buildings formed a harmonious mosaic around the central lake. As he pondered to himself, the soft lapping of the water against the shore caught by the young man's exceptional hearing was the only sound that broke the silence.
"......Brother?"
Odin looked down from his vantage point and saw his sister, Frigga, climbing the spire after him. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched her approach. When Frigga was perched beside him, she nodded. Giving a brief glance at his hand, which was clad in a black fingerless glove he had donned earlier, he turned his attention to Frigga and asked.
"So, how did the day turn out?"
"...Yes, despite the occasions that would seem logically impossible, everything proceeded smoothly in the end," Frigga replied in a barely concealed relief.
"I see—"
"It is natural that you two will experience signs of discrepancies depending on how less likely an event is to occur with you in it. It's not a normal occurrence that reality is bent to insert entities into it, after all. But rest assured, it's completely harmless as I intended."
"!!! Who's there!?"
Odin and Frigga snapped in alarm at the unexpected voice coming from below them. Peering down, they found a mysterious young man standing balanced effortlessly on top of a lower spire, staring at them with eerily glowing green eyes.
".........?"
His attire didn't seem to fit the common fashion of any place in this realm. An olive-green cloak with tattered edges was draped over the entity's shoulders. As it billowed in the midnight breeze, the man was revealed to wear what looked like a set of light armor and a sash sporting glass vials of glowing green fluid and limbs protected by gauntlets and boots adorned with segmented metal plates. A small lantern with a gently burning pale green-colored flame in it was hanging from his belt.
This mysterious young man lifted his chin and gestured with a nod toward the rooftops below. His motion was clear: he wanted them to jump down and follow him.
With a shared nod, the siblings leaped from the spire and landed on the rooftops. Their landing was soft and almost silent, a showcase of their skill.
The man took a moment to look at the siblings appreciatively.
"You two know who I am."
Odin glanced down at his hand, feeling a strain in channeling his power. The sensation of resistance reminded him that the influence of their new situation made their abilities less accessible, though not entirely lost. He met Frigga's eyes and saw the same understanding reflected there.
"You're the one who facilitated our presence here," Odin answered, unconsciously straightening his back.
The man tilted his head slightly, acknowledging the statement with a slight smile. "Indeed," he said. "I am doing it in his place."
Frigga standing beside her brother also took a moment to study the enigmatic figure. "Then you must be aware of who we truly are," she whispered.
"Oh, yes. God of Light Ashir, Goddess of Shadow Mirook. The Sibling Gods of Yggdra, the only native deities. Your true selves are known to me."
"........."
If even Kagaseo cannot help them bypass the frustrating resistance that prevented a deity from meddling with the mortal realm, then this being must be incredibly powerful to pull off such a feat with ease. Their instincts screamed correct.
Not metaphorically, or rhetorically, or poetically, or theoretically, or any other fancy way.
He is Death, straight up.
"...What has happened to the August Star of Heaven?" Odin, or Ashir, asked after recovering from their brief shock.
"There is a change in plans, so Kagaseo is undergoing a similar thing as you both," Death's green eyes softened as he regarded the pair. "He, too, is in a world he calls home, fighting for an ideal world. His path is interwoven with yours, though his journey is separate."
At those words, the face of Frigga, or Mirook, contorted painfully.
"If you are so powerful, why can't you help us? Why leave us to struggle in such a roundabout way?"
"It's not me who desires an ideal world for myself, don't I?" Death's retort successfully silenced the Goddess. "However... I, too, despise the Civilization Annihilation Game, which is why I have offered this to you. It is a favor and a test to see your worth. You will be judged."
"Civilization Annihilation Game..." a distraught Odin murmured.
Yes, they were aware of it from Kagaseo.
As it turned out, Ashir and Mirook were the only protectors of Yggdra. Noluthe the Serpent was an intruder all along, inserted by the all-powerful Civilization Annihilation Game... just to play a game and cause untold suffering?
Starting with the First Disobedience, the Serpent completely tore apart what could have been a harmonious existence. It was him. He who derives a sick enjoyment in leading good men into slaughtering their own brethren and into suicide on a massive scale. Eight times already.
Even if the Gra Valkas Empire, the Eighth Empire, were to win the War of Fate and conquer the world, it was guaranteed that their reign would be short-lived, tumultuous, and fraught with suffering, and their fall hard. And then the cycle would start anew. That's the Civilization Annihilation Game. All just so that it can generate a good story.
Even if they somehow win, Yggdra will never be the same anymore...
For the first time in a long time, the God of Light felt a fierce surge of anger.
"Tell me," Odin muttered, "now that we're here, what will it take to thwart the Serpent? How do we end this once and for all?"
"What do you think it will take?" Death countered.
Frigga took a deep breath before answering. "...We must stop the War of Fate... but still... to shed more blood...?"
Death let out an exhale and gave the Siblings a bitter, knowing smile.
“It’s hard and unrealistic, isn’t it? You will be laughed at and mocked by everyone for upholding such a stupid ideal. Many who would adore see you fail.”
"........."
"So, what say you?"
"Till all are one."
"Brother?"
"Oh?"
"I have made a promise to someone who believes in a world where hope still shines amidst darkness. Now, I must make a declaration to the world."
Odin took a deep breath and turned to Frigga. His sister's gaze reflected her heart which echoed her brother's decision.
"Death, pain, and suffering may be inevitable aspects of existence, but only those who take pleasure in suffering or allow themselves to succumb to it are truly the weak and cowardly. We choose to end the War of Fate. We choose to end the War of Fate... and endure that suffering, because that goal will serve to measure the best of us, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win. We choose to end the War of Fate... not because it is easy, but because it is hard!"
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TILL ALL ARE ONE!
KAINIAN NAVY FOURTH FLEET
Main Battle Group
image [https://img.wattpad.com/10a3bd886f45b2011f002875f9d494bb24419beb/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f7059493949304154764f5a426b773d3d2d313437363030363732352e313766343737366464373663336265313134383532323035363339312e706e67]
The Fourth Fleet is one of the two fleets belonging to the Southern Left Navy, the regional command in charge of the southwestern part of the continent, principally based at Port Verses along with other smaller bases at the northern coast of the Lyngbakr Sea.
It is commanded by Fleetmaster Rhodim and comprised of one Zenebas-class newtype battleship, 5 Pandon-class newtypes, 2 Guygalos-class newtypes, 4 Velokron-class armored cruisers, 4 Cherubim-class armored cruisers, 4 Bogal-class light cruisers, 28 Shu-491-class large torpedo boats, and 11 Di-492-class fleet submarines.
The composition as of Month 8 Year 469 of the Fifth Age is as follows:
- Fleet Flagship: Askembla (Zenebas BB)
- 4th Battle Squadron
-- 7th Division: 2 × Guygalos BB (Proitzen, Muroa); 2 × Pandon BB (Ghose, Bazdor)
-- 8th Division: 3 × Pandon BB (Slimton, Shaplay, Pandon)
- 7th Cruiser Squadron: 4 × Velokron CAR
- 8th Cruiser Squadron: 4 × Cherubim CAR
- 4th Scouting Group: 4 × Bogal CL
- 13th Torpedo Flotilla
-- 26th Half-Flotilla: 4 × Shu-491 TBL
- 14th Torpedo Flotilla
-- 27th Half-Flotilla: 3 × Shu-491 TBL
-- 28th Half-Flotilla: 3 × Shu-491 TBL
- 15th Torpedo Flotilla
-- 29th Half-Flotilla: 5 × Shu-491 TBL
-- 30th Half-Flotilla: 5 × Shu-491 TBL
- 16th Torpedo Flotilla
-- 31st Half-Flotilla: 5 × Shu-491 TBL
-- 32nd Half-Flotilla: 3 × Shu-491 TBL
- 4th Submarine Flotilla
-- 7th Half-Flotilla: 7 × Di-492 SS
-- 8th Half-Flotilla: 4 × Di-492 SS