Building a Viking Empire with Modern Industry-Chapter 159: Cannons?!

Unfortunately, the strategic synergy between Ragnar and Princess Elfwynn did not last long.

Soon after they finished discussing the turbine, a courier from the south arrived. He was practically vibrating with exhaustion.

If news could liquidate assets, this message would bankrupt the Directorate.

Seeing the desperate look in the courier’s eyes, Ragnar immediately signaled for General Bjorn to secure the room.

The young man quickly marched up to Ragnar and handed him a sealed scroll before collapsing like a market index during a crash.

"Director! Urgent news from the front!"

Ragnar broke the seal with a calm efficiency that belied his concern.

He scanned the document, his monocle glinting in the gaslight.

"It seems King Aethelwulf is not as insolvent as we projected," Ragnar announced, his voice devoid of emotion.

"He has secured a loan from the Franks. And he is using it to hire Swiss Mercenaries."

Elfwynn gasped. "Swiss? But they are..."

"Expensive," Ragnar finished. "And highly disciplined. They don’t break for coffee, and they don’t accept stock options."

This changed everything. The hostile takeover of the Midlands was based on the assumption that Aethelwulf’s feudal levies would crumble against professional soldiers.

But if he had Swiss pikes... the cost of acquisition just tripled.

Ragnar turned to his map of England. He needed a pivot.

A way to bypass the Swiss without engaging them in a costly war of attrition.

"Elfwynn," Ragnar said, tapping the map with his cane. "How fast can we get the Leviathan to the Thames?"

"With the new turbine? Three days," Elfwynn calculated instantly.

"But the fuel consumption will be astronomical."

"Burn the furniture if you have to," Ragnar ordered. "We need to strike the head of the snake before the body realizes it’s dead."

Just then, Elfrida burst into the room again, looking smug. She had clearly heard the rumors.

"Trouble in paradise, Director?" she sneered. "I hear the King has new friends. Perhaps you should have been nicer to the nobility."

Ragnar merely laughed at Elfrida while Elfwynn gazed in confusion at her sister’s audacity; after taking his time to enjoy the moment, Ragnar finally responded to Elfrida with a question of his own.

"What exactly makes you think I am worried about mercenaries who fight for gold, when I own the gold mine?"

Elfrida quickly realized she had miscalculated. She assumed Ragnar was panicking. Instead, he looked... energized. Like a shark smelling blood in the water.

"Next time, you should check the market trends before you short sell my stock," Ragnar added, dismissing her.

Ragnar grabbed ahold of Elfwynn’s arm and began to lead her toward the door.

"Come, Chief Engineer. We have a ship to launch."

****

Two Days Later, The Port of York

The Leviathan sat low in the water, smoke billowing from its dual stacks. It was a beast of iron and steam, uglier than sin but more beautiful than any cathedral to Ragnar’s eyes.

Elfwynn stood on the dock, checking the pressure gauges one last time.

She was wearing her favorite oil-stained jumpsuit, a stark contrast to the silk dresses of the noblewomen watching from the walls.

"The whistle is installed. It’s... loud." she reported.

"Good," Ragnar nodded, stepping onto the gangplank. "We depart on the tide."

Just as they were about to cast off, Bishop Aethelwold hurried down the dock, his robes flapping in the wind.

"Director! Wait!"

Ragnar paused, leaning on his cane.

"Bishop? Have you come to bless the engines?"

"I have come to warn you," the Bishop panted. "There are rumors... the Church is not happy with your ’innovations’. They say you are challenging God’s order."

Ragnar smirked. "God created the laws of physics, Bishop. I am merely... optimizing them."

The Bishop looked at the iron ship, then at Ragnar. He crossed himself.

"Just... be careful, my son. Pride comes before the fall."

"And efficiency comes before the profit," Ragnar countered.

"We will return with a treaty, Bishop. Or a crown."

With that, the Leviathan cast off. The paddle wheels churned the water into white foam, and the massive ship began to move.

As they steamed out of the harbor, Ragnar turned to Elfwynn.

"Test the whistle."

Elfwynn pulled the lever.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The sound was deafening.

Birds fell from the sky. Windows in the harbor rattled. The Bishop covered his ears and fell to his knees.

Ragnar laughed, the sound lost in the roar of the steam.

"London won’t know what hit them."

....

On the Leviathan, The Next Morning 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The journey south was uneventful, mostly because no ship dared approach the smoking iron monster.

Ragnar spent the time in his cabin, reviewing the blueprints for Project: Prometheus - the next phase of his plan.

There was a knock at the door. It was Elfwynn.

"Director," she said, holding a tray of coffee. "We are approaching the Thames estuary. But... there is a blockade."

Ragnar took the coffee. "Frankish ships?"

"No," Elfwynn said, looking worried. "It’s a chain. A massive iron chain stretched across the river mouth. And... they have cannons."

Ragnar’s eyes narrowed. Cannons?! The Franks didn’t have cannons. Unless...

"Unless someone sold them the technology," Ragnar whispered. "Industrial espionage."

He stood up, grabbing his cane.

"Full speed ahead, Elfwynn. We are going to test the structural integrity of that chain."

"But Director! The hull..."

"Is made of reinforced steel," Ragnar reminded her.

"And momentum is mass times velocity. We have the mass. Give me the velocity."

Elfwynn hesitated, then nodded. "Aye, Director. Full steam."

As the Leviathan surged forward, the black smoke turning into a thick cloud, Ragnar went to the bridge.

Through his telescope, he saw the chain... thick links of iron, supported by rafts. Behind it, on the shore, were crude cannons.

"They are trying to stop the future with a fence," Ragnar muttered.

BOOM!

A cannonball splashed into the water fifty yards short. They didn’t have the range.

"Gunners!" Ragnar shouted into the speaking tube. "Target the shore batteries! High explosive!"

The Leviathan’s forward cannon roared. The shell whistled through the air and struck the battery. Dirt and timber flew into the air.

"Direct hit!"

"Now," Ragnar said, gripping the railing. "Brace for impact!"

The Leviathan hit the chain at full speed. There was a screech of metal on metal, a groan of iron under stress. The ship shuddered violently.

Then... SNAP!

The chain broke. The tension whipped the ends back, smashing the rafts to kindling.

The Leviathan plowed through the wreckage, unstoppable.

"We are through!" Elfwynn cheered from the engine room.

Ragnar smiled. The path to London was open.

"Sound the whistle," Ragnar ordered. "Let them know the audit has arrived!!"

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The sound echoed up the Thames, carrying a message to King Aethelwulf, to the Swiss mercenaries, and to anyone else who thought they could stop the march of progress.