The midday sun bathed the coastal plains of Howth, Ireland, in a warm embrace, casting long shadows across the landscape. On one side stood the formidable assembly of Templars, Holy Knights, and mages, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, banners fluttering in the gentle breeze. Across from them, the protecting soldiers of Howth formed a determined line, their faces etched with steadfast resolve.

The horses had stopped. Why? Territory advantage. There was one way to get to Howth as it was surrounded by water, thus leaving it with one side to defend.

The armour of the Holy Dynasty was a classical example of fantasy. White tabards underneath golden cuirass’ with the arrowhead of the Maltese, no helmets, golden gauntlets and greaves, and capes that amped them with speed. To avoid injury of their horses, the Holy Knights were the ones to leave their mounts and begin the assault.

The protecting soldiers of Howth, though steadfast, faced an onslaught that seemed insurmountable. The clash began with swords and shields. Following that, a torrent of arrows from the Templar archers. Their aim was well and true and struck their enemies without compromising their fellow Holy Knights. It was a gamble. If someone messed up, then discord would erupt amongst them. The tension between the two guilds was that sensitive.

Upon the second rain of arrows, the soldiers of Howth braced themselves for the impending storm. The Holy Knights backed off for but a minute and went back to attacking.

Death was limited. It seemed the Holy Knights weren’t too keen on a one-sided slaughter. They kept many of the Howth soldiers alive, either knocking them unconscious or threatening them to stay.

The Howth weren’t finished. Though their perimeter was breached, they still had archers remaining in their territory. Too bad Cillain was also amongst the Holy Knights. Otherwise, their strategy might have injured a player.

Cillian was a one-man army in terms of defence.

“Shields up, everyone!”

Even though not everyone was behind him, it was enough.

"By the light that guides my shield,

In the name of honor, undismayed,

I call upon the heavens high,

Sacred Bulwark, shield the sky!"

A supersized construct of his shield appeared in a flash of gold. The rain of terror was rendered useless, the arrows falling like leaves of the fall season. Witnessing the magic, the archers of Howth lost all hope. No more arrows came.

“Charge!”

One knight said it and the rest followed. Kazi and Samuel and everyone else still on horseback went forward.

With no proper walls or fortification, the ruthless invasion was easy as pie. Soldiers surrendered and weapons were thrown down. In face of magic, the local, untrained soldiers did not wish to risk their lives.

Howth was a coastal village, a part of the peninsula of the Howth Head. The local’s called it Binn Éadair and in the future it would be plundered and eventually become a harbour known for birdwatching, fishing, and hiking. Kazi knew because he had been to present-day Howth. To see it plundered and threatened by his very own hands gave him complicated feelings.

Then he remembered why he was doing this. He remembered the bloody mask, the descriptions of gushing blood, and the fear in Marta, Sun-young, and William. Anyone that faced that masked freak would die, save him.

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‘Focus. I need to focus. I need to try.’

He opened his vibrant hazel eyes, gazing upon St. Mary's Abbey. In the future, this would become a tourist attraction. Ruins for people to gawk at. The grass shifted by the wind. The clouds above became conjoined and gray. He heard footsteps.

“What's up with the kohl?” Noor’s question was accompanied by a drink of water.

“What's up with you staying at the very back?” he retorted.

“It's called biding your time. I'm a mage, not a marathon runner. I don't have the stamina to ride on a horse and fight,” Noor replied. “By the way, William and his new buddies are getting the boats ready like you told them to.”

“You didn’t think they would?”

“William seems nice enough. The Templars though? Nah. Those buckets make them look like villains.”

"Right..."

Noor's comments aside, this was it. The time to sail and ambush the incoming Vikings was nigh. Arms crossed, he waited for Cillian to leave the church. He did, with a priest behind him. Noor tensed.

“Are all mages accounted for?” Cillian asked promptly.

“Yes,” Kazi replied.

“Good.” The Templar representative left after that. Noor’s tension also left. Weird.

“He’s pretty stuck up,” Noor noted.

“He’s a leader, he has to be strict.”

“Hrn.”

They went up north. In the east, there were cliffs and no good way to get down to the water. The north was different. There was a proper harbour full of fishermen, boats, and everything they could possibly need for a naval battle.

The harbor, nestled against the rugged beauty of the northern coast, sprawled out in a picturesque scene. A myriad of fishing boats and vessels bobbed gently on the undulating waters, tethered to weathered wooden docks that creaked with the ebb and flow of the tide. The salty tang of the sea hung in the air, intermingling with the briny scent of freshly caught fish.

Without its usual people, however, it seemed William and the Templars struggled. Most of these were fishing boats, not battle boats.

William frowned, his gaze shifting from the modest fishing boats to Kazi. His four Templar friends exchanged puzzled glances too. Taking a breath and gathering his courage, William asked, “Kazi, is it just me or are we going to die in these?”

“No kidding…” Max, his main Templar friend, commented.

“Don’t worry, I already considered this. We’re not going to use these boats to sail, we’re going to use them to construct new boats.”

“Huh? What?”

"Listen up, everyone. We have two hours till the enemy arrives. In the meantime, we’re going to make long ships, as many as we can.” Skeptical looks. Of course. Kazi smiled. “Don’t be so modest. I’m a shipbuilder and you’re all strong men. We'll adapt, improvise, and turn these little boats into something that can withstand cannons. Trust in the process. We can do this."

‘I didn’t tell those guys in the war room since they wouldn’t believe me. However…’ His finger summoned a small red flare. ‘...with some help, I can build us a small navy in less than two hours.’

It was why he got William. In terms of weight lifting, no one else came close to him. His participation was necessary to speed everything up.

Under the midday sun, the harbor of Howth became a hive of activity as William and the five Templars, under Kazi's guidance, ambitiously began transforming the fishing boats into battle-ready vessels.

Kazi envisioned a fleet of agile and versatile longships, inspired by the naval designs of the Viking era. These boats, renowned for their speed and maneuverability, would give them the strategic edge needed in the upcoming naval battle. The longship's shallow draft would allow them to navigate both open waters and shallow coastal areas with ease. The local timber they used for their fishing boats were already sturdy and weather-resistant and did not need to be changed as the primary building material.

Construction followed the traditional clinker-built method. Overlapping planks, carefully shaped and fitted, formed the boat's hull. Together, Kazi and William affixed each plank to the previous one with sealants, creating a watertight seal that would prove vital in the tumultuous waters of the impending naval clash.

“Hey, should I nail this?”

“I got it,” Kazi told Max.

Instead of relying solely on conventional nails and fasteners, Kazi employed his fire magic to fuse wooden components seamlessly. Moreover, after applying natural sealants (pitch pine, specifically) to the wooden surfaces, Kazi used his fire magic to accelerate the drying process. The intense heat hastened the evaporation of moisture from the treated wood, ensuring that the boats became water-resistant and ready for the next stage of construction in a fraction of the usual time.

Kazi devised a simplified version of a square sail, similar to those utilized by Norse longships. The sailors would have better control over the sail's angle, allowing swift adjustments to catch favorable winds or navigate treacherous waters. The rigging, though basic, served its purpose with efficiency.

Amongst the stories that would be told of Gate 10, this would go the least appreciated: the story of how Kazi Hossain built ten battle-ready longships in eighty-three minutes.