Chapter 468.3: Are You Looking For This?

He wasn’t even bothered to waste 0.1 second of his time firing on those tiny flies.

Too bad the flapping-wing planes didn’t show up.

Those five Cloudfly planes made one pass during the day and then scurried back to the airship.

Anyway... He didn’t care.

Whatever the New Alliance pilots were flying, he would make sure they remembered what death looked like.

Yker calmly pushed the throttle forward. The engine flames roared, his speed climbing past Mach 3 as he charged toward the distant battlefield.

But at that very moment, a sharp sense of danger prickled his spine. Instinctively, he jerked his control stick to the side.

A flash of fire streaked past from below the clouds. He hadn’t even seen what kind of plane it was, but the shockwave from breaking the sound barrier nearly burst his eardrums.

That was close!

Heart pounding, Yker glanced at his useless radar, then quickly turned to look behind. There was nothing in sight.

Just moments ago, a plane had roared past mere meters from him, the compressed air from its wings yanking his jet hard to the left. The turbulence nearly shattered his canopy.

That thing was flying at least Mach 3.

With how fast both of them were flying, they were charging straight at each other at horrifying speeds!

He was certain about one thing. The enemy pilot had aimed straight for a suicide collision. They hadn’t even fired to avoid being detected early.

What kind of tactic is that?!

“Is this guy fucking crazy?!”

There was no doubt, they were both flying jets.

Through the canopy, he caught a glimpse of faint blue flames flickering beneath the clouds. There was no doubt about it. Those were afterburners.

Suppressing the adrenaline surging through his body, Yker banked hard right, trying to find the enemy’s position to cut behind them.

But the other pilot was no rookie.

As Yker pulled into a high-G turn, the enemy reacted immediately, deploying air brakes and swinging around sharply, raising their nose toward the inner arc of Yker’s turn.

Whzzzzz!

Bullets screamed past his wingtips. Hearing the distant gunfire, Yker broke out in cold sweat.

“Fuck!”

Just a bit more and his jet would’ve been scrapped.

In his eight years, almost all his opponents had been propeller planes.

At worst, some weird oil-burning contraptions. There were rarely any supersonic jets.

He could feel that the enemy jet wasn’t especially high-spec. He still had the edge in maneuverability and top speed.

But the enemy pilot’s skill made up for that, exploiting his momentary lapse with precision.

Unlike him, who mostly bombed savages, the dude on the other plane clearly knew how to dogfight against faster aircraft.

To meet such an evenly matched opponent in the middle of a wasteland... Yker felt his fighting spirit ignite.

“Alright then! Show me what you’ve got!”

Muttering to himself, he cut the throttle, popped the airbrakes, and yanked the stick hard in the opposite direction, ready to bite into the enemy’s ass.

The Falcon Kingdom’s squadron would have to rely on themselves now.

He hoped they held up.

At the same time, piloting the Lofty Cloud fighter, Falling Feather clicked his tongue. “10G acceleration... Is this guy an awakener too?”

Not just the pilot... The jet itself was ridiculously over-tuned!

Initially, Falling Feather didn’t think he stood a chance in a straight-up dogfight due to the performance gap. He had planned a suicide trade to take out the more expensive aircraft.

But to his surprise, his brick toss maneuver had been dodged.

Not only that, his enemy had two guided missiles left unused and was still able to slip away from a volley delivered with his active skill at point-blank range.

In terms of agility, even an F-22 probably couldn’t match up to what he was fighting.

And yet, such an amazing jet had garbage radar, no stealth coating, and not even a proper air-to-air missile. It was absolutely absurd.

Watching the enemy finally abandon support for the ground squadron and turn to engage him, Falling Feather took a deep breath, his own blood boiling.

Perfect.

Gripping the stick tightly, his eyes locked onto the dark silhouette outside his canopy. He growled through gritted teeth, “Look at me, you bastard.”

...

The two jets locked into a dogfight, engines tracing scissor-shaped trails in the air, each fighting for a better position.

Not far away, the New Alliance and Falcon Kingdom air forces were still locked in combat. The remaining dozen fighters tore through each other savagely.

Hill 330 had become a meat grinder, with the Wolf Cavalry rampaging through the collapsing infantry lines.

Simond and his Defense Battalion still fought desperately, but with no effective air support in sight, the balance of victory was clearly tipping in the New Alliance’s favor.

Yet the Alliance wasn’t content with just three simultaneous battles. They had opened a fourth front that night.

...

In the tracer-lit sky, a sea of parachutes rained down, reflecting in the eyes of everyone on the ground.

The guards stationed in the camp raised their rifles and fired into the sky, but against the dark night and gliding parachutes, they couldn’t hit anything. Even a lucky shot wouldn’t pierce the exoskeletons.

Hundreds of meters vanished in an instant.

A suit of exoframe, carried by three parachutes, landed first in the center of the camp.

Bullets rained toward him, but he ignored them all. With practiced motion, he slashed the cords with a combat knife, then smoothly grabbed the light machine gun on his back and swept the camp.

“If you don’t want to die, hit the ground!”

Advancing under the cover of his fire, his voice boomed through the speakers.

As the paratroopers deployed, hundreds more soldiers in exoskeletons descended across the camp.

And with them, over 50 quadcopters mounted with guns arrived. They were Y-2 Butterfly Knife drones.

The soldiers of the Army had no chance. The monsters tore through them like paper.

One contact was all it took to collapse the defense.

At the camp gate, Swofte stood dumbstruck, staring at the roaring battlefield.

Paratroopers...

The New Alliance’s true elites...

His cloudy eyes went blank for a moment, and that blankness quickly turned into despair.

The entire camp only had six companies left!

And that included communications, transport, and engineers companies! Half of them were support units! The only actual combat units were two companies made up of soldiers and officers who were Wislanders...

Neither were true frontline forces! There was no way they could match the New Alliance elite.

How the fuck was he supposed to hold the fort?

His shoulders and lips trembled uncontrollably. His face flushed red.

Finally, he cracked. “... Fucking skunk!”

If that damned bastard, Griffin, hadn’t overstepped his authority and taken away his Defense Battalion, they wouldn’t be in this mess!

“That idiot will pay for this! When I get back to Triumphant City, I’ll see that he’s court-martialed myself!”

Watching Swofte huff and puff in rage, his adjutant panicked, hat long forgotten, grabbing his arm in desperation. “General! Now’s not the time! The New Alliance dropped at least 500, maybe over 1,000 paratroopers! You have to get out of here!”

Swofte’s face went stiff and he gulped in terror.

Though he hated the idea of abandoning his men, he knew that if he were captured, things would get even worse.

Listening to the gunfire erupting across the camp, he lowered his voice and asked, “The maps and documents... Are they all burned?”

The adjutant nodded. “All burned! Even the radio table’s been blown up!”

“Good... Remember this grudge. We’ll repay it, someday!” Through gritted teeth, Swofte turned to his adjutant. “We’ll leave now.”

“Follow me!”

They rushed to the jeep parked outside. The adjutant jumped in, but as he reached for the ignition, he frowned.

“Where’s the key?”

It was just here!

Panicking, the adjutant scrambled to search the driver’s seat.

Swofte glared at the bumbling fool, ready to curse him, when suddenly, a quiet cough came from behind.

The two of them turned around at once.

A soldier in an exoskeleton was standing at the side. A sniper rifle rested on his right shoulder. In his left hand, he tossed a set of keys, grinning at the two of them with exaggerated friendliness.

His entire posture oozed his mockery for them.

“Are you looking for this?”