CHAPTER 851: CHAPTER 851: FIREWORKS BLOOMING ON THE GROUND

At the same time the Alliance players were preparing for battle, the Third Air Squadron of the Southern Legion was also fully ready for action.

A hundred "Dagger" fighter planes formed an attack formation in the sky, aggressively charging towards the approaching formations like wolves hunting sheep.

As for these fighter planes from Poluo Country, the Weilante people clearly did not take them seriously.

Even though the training costs for propeller plane pilots aren’t as extravagant as for jet pilots, it still takes at least five to six months of training.

And that’s just the basics.

To ensure sufficient combat power, it requires at least 10 months of training and a minimum of 400 hours of flight time.

With the Weilante people’s combat talent, their training efficiency is about 1.5 to 2 times that of ordinary people, yet the fastest it could take to form effective combat power is three months.

Whereas the newly formed Poluo Country, evolving from the Heavenly Kingdom army, hasn’t even been established that long!

Even if they could purchase some civilized equipment from the Alliance, they couldn’t even find a handful of decent pilots.

For this reason,

the hundred "Dagger" planes pushed their speed to the max, racing towards those scattered medals in the sky, fearing that either distant airships or ground-based anti-air units would snatch the glory!

"Go to hell!!"

Letting out a bellow of courage, Milton, targeting the nearest enemy aircraft, unhesitatingly pulled the trigger. The two 10mm cannons under him spewed long tongues of fire.

"Bang bang bang——!"

The deafening roar shook the cabin with crisp rattles, and the long rain of bullets was like a lance thrust from his hands!

This would be a battle without suspense!

It couldn’t even be called a battle — it was a complete slaughter!

After all, that guy rushing toward him likely hadn’t even completed half the training hours, perhaps even struggling to find the safety on his weapon, probably yelling to a teammate beside him about why the gun wouldn’t fire.

A bit exaggerated, but the point isn’t far off.

Milton’s lips curled into a mocking sneer.

He seemed to see the fireball hurtling towards the ground, and in the corner of his eye, he was already searching for the next target marked by Death.

However, at that moment, an incredible scene occurred.

The plane, which was supposed to be torn to pieces, suddenly veered to the side.

Seeing that the long tracers were about to tear it apart, it maneuvered like an agile bird, taking advantage of the high-speed airflow to sidestep, using the lateral thrust from air resistance to perform a large-span barrel roll, nonchalantly dodging the burst of cannon, and charged straight through without slowing down.

The fluid motion was like the spinning swordplay of a fencing champion.

And the hidden killing intent within had quietly revealed its sharp edge.

Milton’s eyes widened, his eyeballs nearly bulging like ping-pong balls, and a cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

This guy was definitely not a rookie!

No—

That chap definitely couldn’t be a pilot from Poluo Province!

Such skilled flying techniques and adept situational responses couldn’t be achieved through practice alone.

Only by experiencing countless brushes with death and countless escapes from Death’s clutches could one hone techniques that toy with death with such ease.

This guy was definitely an ace!

He was in trouble!

"Damn it!"

Silently cursing his misfortune, Milton urgently pressed the rudder with his right foot, pulling the controls, trying to reacquire the flight path of that plane in his sights for another burst.

But the opponent didn’t give him the chance.

Just as it finished the barrel maneuver, the reactive W-2 nonchalantly fired a burst of short but deadly cannon rounds.

The 20mm armor-piercing incendiary drew a deadly arc in the air, like a slash from above, blocking the path of Milton’s vehicle.

The outcome was decided.

"I’m finished—"

Without any chance to evade, Milton could only watch hopelessly as that fleeting shooting opportunity passed, and was then inevitably intercepted by that deadly burst of cannon.

"Boom——!"

A burst of flames belched a mass of scorching thick smoke as a "Dagger" with a broken wing spiraled rapidly towards the ground.

"First kill claimed... rest in peace."

Watching the falling enemy plane, Feng Qing casually uttered a farewell, then skillfully pulled out a marker pen from his pant leg, writing the first stroke of a tally on the side of the cockpit.

Not a bad battle.

But still a bit too raw.

That guy was probably eager to get the first kill, firing from such a distance that she didn’t even need to activate her Agility Talent, just a simple barrel roll to dodge.

And it was easy to predict what that guy would do next. After failing one strike, he would definitely try to make amends.

As long as she seized the moment when those two machine guns aimed at her, she could block the enemy plane’s trajectory in advance with her machine cannons.

Due to the enemy’s underestimation, she had plenty of shooting windows.

At the same time, Gui Gui’s voice came through the communication channel.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Nicely done, Feng Qing!"

"Haha, it’s alright, it’s alright..."

Feng Qing smiled shyly, humbly replied, and then skillfully locked onto the next target.

Since the Goblin Corps was established, she had been flying planes, her flight hours breaking through thousands, and even her resurrection time was more than that.

Numerous experiences of death had already made her flying skills second nature.

It’s no exaggeration to say that the plane she piloted felt like part of her body; she could even feel the airflow brushing against the flaps.

At this moment, an exasperated voice came through the communication channel.

"Damn it! Stole my first kill!"

Gui Gui: "Hahaha! The captain needs to work hard, don’t get overtaken by the newbies someday."

WC True Mosquito: "Heh! Impossible."

Rookie No. 1: "Hehe, you never know, captain, care to compare?"

WC True Mosquito: "Compare what! You’ve barely touched the plane more than I’ve crashed it! Focus on your own task, aim your bomb accurately before talking nonsense!"

Rookie No. 1: "Damn it! Mosquito dog discriminates against newbies! I’m going to the Forum to expose you!"

WC True Mosquito: "%#￥@!"

Rookie No. 2: "Awoo!! Long live the Manager!"

Rookie No. 3: "Oh my god!!! This is way more thrilling than War Thunder!?"

Gui Gui: "Uh, is it because there are more people? Seems like the newcomers are getting increasingly outrageous..."

Feng Qing could imagine her friend’s expression, and didn’t know what to say, so she just laughed.

"Ahaha... But I think the captain quite likes them."

Black clouds in the sky burst into the first fireball.

A parachute floated out of the burning cabin, bringing the pride of the Southern Legion’s Third Air Squadron down to the ground.

Seeing a comrade shot down during the first encounter, each Vellante pilot was dumbfounded.

None of them anticipated that the first casualty of the battle would happen on their side.

And what surprised them even more was how clean and decisive the opponent’s action was.

"...It’s an Alliance pilot." The squadron leader’s face darkened, his pupils constricted with a fierce glow.

Even if he were dull, he had now realized.

The planes in front of them, bearing the Poluo Country flag, were not piloted by survivors from Poluo Province!

But by people from the Alliance!

The raging flames hit every pilot of the Third Air Squadron like a slap.

However, they were a race born for battle.

Did not flinch at the sudden casualty; instead, sitting in the cockpit, their fighting spirit soared, completely discarding their arrogance and undue confidence.

The Southern Legion had been prepared for the Alliance’s participation, so they weren’t shocked to an extreme.

At most, they hadn’t expected the opponent’s reaction to be so swift, deploying their planes and pilots from the start.

But this was also good.

Rather than constantly guarding against lurking enemies, it’s better to fight a straightforward battle!

"...If you want to die, I’ll grant you!"

The squadron leader roared, with machine cannons spewing tongues of fire, biting towards the nearest W-2 aircraft.

The kilometer distance disappeared in an instant; soon both sides were engaged in close combat.

The rumble of cannons filled the battlefield, tracer rounds extending in the sky.

The blazing trajectories were like cavalry guns wielded by soldiers, thrusting back and forth beneath the low-hanging clouds.

Planes continuously fell from the sky.

Among them were the corps’ "Daggers", and also the Alliance’s "Mosquito-style".

The combat power of these Vellante pilots is not weak, even far stronger than those servant pilots of the Falcon Kingdom.

And their planes are the same, completely different from those "export versions" used by the Falcon Kingdom Air Force that were modified to simplify production processes!

Even if both use propellers, there is still a huge difference between them. Whether it’s maneuverability or speed, they are not on the same level at all.

After consecutively shooting down four planes, Feng Qing gradually felt a bit strained.

Her left wing was moderately damaged, the leading edge flap seemed to be broken, and the remaining ammunition was already scarce... but these were not the most lethal.

The most lethal thing was that the airship, which had turned back to defend, was getting closer, and the ground’s anti-aircraft firepower had also completed its preparations.

The enemy’s aircraft group is orderly moving to the north.

If they follow, within five minutes they will enter the airship’s firepower net. But if they don’t stick close, they will soon be bitten by the ground’s anti-aircraft firepower.

Looking at the few bullet holes penetrating the cockpit, Feng Qing took a deep breath and prepared to restart, shouting into the communication channel.

"...Commander! The distance is almost enough, let’s start the second stage of the operation!"

Clearly, Brother Mosquito thought so too.

After a brief crackling of static, a decisive voice quickly came through the communication channel.

"All units, listen up! This operation has entered the second stage! Remember your objectives! Before crashing, make sure to fire the last bullet for me!"

"See you on the forum!"

"Awoooo!!"

With that, Brother Mosquito himself started to shout awooo wooo, then pressed down the rising nose of the plane and dove towards the train station below.

The passionate roar ignited the hot blood in every player’s heart, making Feng Qing, usually quiet, feel her blood burning and she shouted along.

The remaining sixty-some W-2 aircraft suddenly scattered like fireworks across the sky, turning and diving towards the ground, catching those "Daggers" trying to move the battlefield north completely off guard.

The captain of the third airfleet was shocked, remembering the command, angrily shouted into the communication channel.

"Stop them!"

His order wasn’t even necessary. Those well-trained Vellante pilots realized the intention of these Alliance pilots and immediately ended the cat-and-mouse chase, turning to follow up.

But it was already too late!

Those planes diving towards the ground seemed to have no intention of pulling up again, they opened their beepers as they dove and pushed the throttle to the bottom.

"Wooo——!"

The piercing shriek echoed in the air, like the trumpet of death wailing.

They each locked on to their targets, then emptied the last few dozen rounds left in their aircraft’s guns.

A rain of fire fell from the sky, scaring the Vellante soldiers guarding near the train station who all scrambled for cover.

And it was the same for those loaders, who dropped what they were holding and ran desperately towards the outside of the train station upon hearing that sharp sound.

One of the planes plunged straight into a warehouse, and soon that warehouse was undergoing a sympathetic explosion, a dazzling flame shooting out from the roof, the explosions popping like fireworks.

These planes use fuel cells based on solid hydrogen, once they disable the safety measures, the thing itself is a bomb, with an energy density way higher than those lighters that burst in reality.

And this towering flame was just the beginning!

Apart from those W-2 attack aircraft pouring out machine gun fire, there were some planes with 100-kilogram bombs hanging under their bellies!

That metallic hydrogen is much more vicious than just solid hydrogen, not to mention it’s mixed with some other formulas to enhance its power.

And those planes piloted by "Goblin recruits" each had clear targets, directly rushing towards the locomotives parked at the train station.

And those railways leading to the northern region, and bridges crossing rivers!

Halting the steel torrent pushing north wasn’t realistic.

However, they could delay the 17th ten thousand troops of the army by hitting the logistics, buying more preparation time for the Moon Clan Resistance Army in the north.

A plane carrying a bomb charged straight into a cargo-filled train, releasing the bomb’s safety just before crashing, diving with the bomb straight onto it.

The Vellante pilot following its tail was stunned, gritting his teeth and pulling the nose up as a wall of fire came toward him.

These guys are crazy!

The successive explosions lasted a whole five minutes. Each blast made the heart of the Vellante soldiers hiding around bleed.

Sixty planes burned themselves like fireworks, causing huge damage to the West Sail Port and its surrounding transportation routes and strategic facilities. The "Daggers" right behind them could do nothing but watch.

"Damn it!!"

Looking at the sea of fire that was the train station, the captain of the third airfleet pounded his thigh in anger, unexpectedly cracking open the wound on his arm that had just been bandaged, making him grimace in pain.

A cockpit cannon shot had pierced his cabin before, though it hadn’t hit him, the flying debris had grazed his arm, nearly cutting his artery.

Though he harbored a storm of anger in his heart, he had no other means besides fury right now, only able to request orders from the airfield’s control tower, then give the order for the rest of the squadron to return to base.

Meanwhile, the four "Peidao" jet fighters from Evernight Harbor arrived in vain, circling the sky without finding the enemy plane, and had to helplessly return to base.

These planes had high requirements for their airports and ground service environments. Here, there wasn’t even an airport that could allow them to land or provide maintenance services.

Watching the dots disappearing at a speed visible to the naked eye on the radar screen, General Giulion’s face was as grim as the cloud-covered sky.

He didn’t need to ask his subordinates to guess the massive losses caused by this airstrike.

The adjutant standing next to him swallowed hard and spoke with difficulty.

"A suicide attack... Have these Blue Ground Mice lost their minds?!"

For a group of unrelated survivors, they’ve even sacrificed their lives!

He couldn’t understand what those guys were thinking.

Don’t they have families of their own?!

General Giulion’s face was grim, yet he didn’t panic as his adjutant did, just calmly narrowed his eyes at the map.

"Previously, the staff guessed that the Alliance might be mastering some technology related to remotely operated clones... It seems now, the staff’s judgment might be correct."

This was speculation made by the Army’s staff during the siege of the Torch Church.

Based on feedback from frontline soldiers, they discovered that although the Alliance soldiers were suffering continuous casualties, the number of elite troops never seemed to decrease.

There is only one explanation.

That is, a portion of the Alliance’s soldier casualties—especially the elite units’ casualties—were actually clones or something similar.

Although it sounded far-fetched, it seemed to be the most plausible explanation.

And it also explained why the Alliance’s residents of the refuge rarely ventured beyond communication range and why the Alliance tirelessly promoted their cables.

From this, he could make an initial deduction.

Namely, the clones operated by the residents of the refuge could only operate within the communication radius.

Beyond that radius, they must risk going in person, and if they die, they truly die.

For example, like those four Blue Ground Mice who visited West Sail Port previously.

Hearing General Giulion’s words, the adjutant standing by was stunned for a moment, then hesitantly said.

"But... if that’s the case, why didn’t our signal interference bombs work?"

He always felt that "remotely controlled clones" sounded too far-fetched, even less plausible than the theory that "the Alliance’s residents of the refuge are actually bionic humans."

But General Giulion shook his head, still firmly believing in his hypothesis.

"Electromagnetic waves are not the only signal transmission medium. Have you forgotten those mutated slime fungi? We still haven’t fully understood what that psychic signal is."

It’s said that long, long ago, the United Human discovered some planetary consciousness entity on Gaia planet and got inspiration to develop technology named the "Mind Interference Device."

This device can repel creatures with lower intellect and communicate with those of higher intellect, once considered by the academic community as the best medium for communicating with local civilizations.

After all, verbal communication is too inefficient; not only does it take a long time to decipher, but it can also lead to misunderstandings.

And whether one is led by psychic interference signals can serve as a touchstone, measuring whether the other party’s mind is worthy of communication and what strategies to engage with.

However, even though "Mind Interference Technology" was developed during the Human Alliance Era, no one could truly decipher that so-called psychic signal even after the onset of the Wasteland Era.

The Alliance was clearly the same, but it didn’t stop the ones who possessed the technology from using it.

Looking at the completely stunned adjutant and the other officers, Giulion spoke firmly.

"... No matter what medium they use to operate the clones, the signals must pass through cables or signal towers to reach the front line, and these facilities leave traces!"

Saying this, he looked at an officer standing in front of the command table and issued his order.

"... We Weilante People look too distinct from the locals to operate behind enemy lines conveniently. I need you to train a special force composed of Poluo people to infiltrate behind enemy lines and launch surprise attacks on their communication facilities!"

The officer stood at attention and saluted.

"Yes, Sir!"

Giulion turned his attention back to the map on the command table, a cold smile gradually forming on his lips.

He admitted that this airstrike caught him off guard, and the Alliance’s response speed exceeded his expectations.

But if those guys thought they could thwart his entire plan with such clumsy tactics, they were way too naive.

This war had only just begun.

Since the Alliance’s air force had joined the battle prematurely, the equipment prepared for the Alliance could also be deployed in advance.

Though expensive missiles aren’t needed against the natives, using them against the Alliance is worthwhile.

No matter how cheap the clones are, planes equipped with plasma engines and fusion reactors are not; exchanging them with however many missiles is worth it.

Aside from the planes, there are the ships.

Setting aside his previous underestimation, Giulion focused intently on the sea area at the southwest corner of the map.

If nothing unexpected happens.

The South Sea Union fleet should have arrived...