Volume 2 chapter 71
Early Spring. The Demon Realm.
The ice and snow had not yet fully retreated. A vast whiteness covered the earth, laying a layer of silver light over the scars of the great war, restoring a cold beauty to the land.
Gallos, a Third-Rank Shadow Demon, piloted a fighter jet, leading a squadron of five other aircraft at an altitude of 10,000 meters.
At this height, the air was stagnant, and sunlight spilled like shattered gold. Looking down, the world spread out like a scroll of pure white and indigo. The ridge lines of distant mountains cut the sky like silver blades, their rugged contours stark against the firmament. Every fold in the rock held perennial snow, blindingly white, like frozen waves.
Clouds lay low in the valleys, sculpted by the biting wind into flowing forms—sometimes like a flock of sheep cresting a dark shoulder, sometimes like thin gauze veiling steep cliffs, revealing only sharp ice prisms that refracted tiny rainbows. The exposed rock was ink-black, like frozen reefs embedded in endless white, creating a texture of cracked skin on the earth itself.
There were no birds, no beasts, not even the sound of wind—only sunlight dancing between the boundless white and blue. Far away, the mountains merged with the horizon, the snow fading into a hazy milky white that blended indistinguishably with the grey-blue sky.
Into this painting crashed Gallos and his strike team. Steel wings shattered the tranquility. The roar of engines announced the arrival of war. The weapons slung beneath their bellies were the scythes of the Reaper.
This was the Demon Race's latest Type-2 Fighter (Improved).
Beneath the fuselage hung a 500kg aerial bomb. Under each wing were two 24-tube rocket pods, loaded with 90mm Armor-Piercing Rockets it's weight is 65kg and length of 1.85m with a Warhead that contains a15kg High-Explosive with AP tip.
Developed by Seres and given to Clyris for field testing last year, these rockets were equipped with Seres' latest solid-fuel engines. They flew at 1,800 km/h with an effective range of 5 kilometers.
Gallos's squadron flew the prototype verification units. Their mission: Hunt the Alliance supply lines and verify the lethality of this new weapon!
They crossed the mountains and soon spotted a "sheep intestine trail" winding through the valley below—a supply road twisting like a strand of hair on the snow.
"Hah!" Gallos laughed, watching the slow-moving convoy. "Brothers, stay alert!"
Since the demons began their guerrilla air raids, Alliance High-Rank powerhouses no longer stayed exclusively in the camps. A portion was detached to escort supply convoys.
After the Battle of the Dragonspine Mountains, even dispersed camps were unsafe. The Alliance had consolidated their forces into massive bases, guarded by a rotation of over ten Ninth-Rankers to prevent a Demon Lord decapitation strike.
This consolidation allowed them to free up more Seventh and Eighth-Rank experts to escort supply lines. This had rendered demon air raids largely ineffective recently—a few fighters couldn't break through a Seventh-Rank defense to hit the convoy.
Sure enough, before Gallos finished speaking, two Seventh-Rank Knights rocketed into the sky. Behind them, a Seventh-Rank Magus began chanting a spell!
"All units! Climb!"
Gallos shouted, pulling back on the stick. The fighters began a steep ascent.
The Type-2 Fighter was faster than a Seventh-Ranker in a straight line, but not by much. Dogfighting them was unwise—a human body turned much tighter than a jet.
However, the demons had learned from experience. While they lost in maneuverability, machines far outstripped humans in climb rate.
A human body had to resist the cold and thin air of high altitude. Although Seventh-Rankers didn't strictly need to breathe, they hadn't fully transcended biology. They couldn't climb at full speed; they had to slow down to let their bodies adapt to the pressure drop.
This was the demons' opportunity!
But the Alliance veterans weren't fools. Seeing the climb, the two knights immediately went back-to-back in a defensive posture.
This was their counter-tactic. While the fighters' 40mm cannons were powerful, to damage a fully armored Seventh-Rank Knight, the plane had to close within 500 meters.
If the knight was prepared, they could destroy the plane before it reached effective range.
Historically, it took three fighters to kill one Seventh-Ranker—sacrificing two to let the third get close. To kill one outright took three or four successful passes. The exchange ratio was abysmal: 7-8 planes for one knight.
So the two knights were calm, covering each other. The Magus below cast defensive shields on all three of them. They thought they were impenetrable.
"Brothers! Show them some color!" Gallos glanced down. Upon reaching 15,000 meters, he pushed the stick forward, diving toward the knights hovering at 10,000 meters.
"Fire!"
WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH...
At Gallos's command, rockets screamed from the pods, painting lines of death across the sky.
Supersonic AP rockets crossed the 4,000-meter gap in under ten seconds. Before the knights could even identify the projectiles, a storm of rockets smashed into their faces.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM...
Smoke and fire engulfed the knights. The explosions formed a massive black cloud in mid-air.
Gallos pulled up at 3,000 meters—any closer and he'd be in the knights' attack range. He wasn't sure if one volley was enough to kill them.
The squadron flew over the smoke in perfect formation. Three peeled off to target the Magus, while three climbed again, preparing for a second pass at the knights.
"Damn demons!"
The Magus roared, waving his staff. Massive mana gathered, birthing a storm from thin air.
"Die!!"
He pointed his staff, and the storm surged toward Gallos.
"Scatter!"
Gallos shouted. A Seventh-Rank Magus had longer range and wider AOE than a knight. Even the rockets couldn't outrange him.
But their goal wasn't to kill the Magus—it was to pin him down so he couldn't save the knights!
Three fighters scattered around the storm, firing rockets to form a barrage.
Facing weapons that could breach a knight's defense, the Magus didn't dare tank them. He dodged.
And that left his teammates isolated.
The smoke cleared, revealing the miserable state of the two knights. Their shining armor was tattered, riddled with fist-sized holes oozing blood and gore.
"Gene! Run!!"
One knight roared at the Magus, then charged at Gallos with his partner. They didn't climb—the plane was diving at them. It was their only target.
Thick earth mana coated their bodies, plugging their wounds and forming two rock giants several meters tall. They accelerated toward the fighters.
"Climb! Don't let them catch you!" Gallos reacted instantly, pulling up and engaging afterburners.
The plane climbed at a near-vertical 90 degrees. G-forces pinned Gallos to his seat, but he turned his head to look out the canopy.
The two stone giants were matching the plane's climb rate! They were getting closer!
"Encased in rock, so they ignore atmospheric pressure? Damn it..." Gallos gritted his teeth.
At that moment, the other three fighters swooped in, unleashing rockets on the stone giants.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM...
The massive stone bodies made easy targets. Every rocket found its mark.
Stone and metal shards flew, exposing the human bodies within.
Gallos seized the chance. He rolled the plane to dodge the knights' attack, then cut the throttle, letting the fighter fall in a stall.
Spinning, he pushed the nose down and reignited the engine, aiming straight at the charging stone giants.
"Who's afraid of who! Bastards!!"
He roared, holding down the triggers for both cannons and rockets.
Six lines of fire turned into a metal storm. Two smoke trails drew black lines of death.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG...
Gallos engaged the afterburner—not to climb, but to dive straight into the enemy!
40mm shells shattered the rock armor. Rockets punched inside. Smoke and dust swallowed his fighter.
WHOOSH!
Steel wings cut through the smoke. He emerged from the other side! Only a few scratches marred the fuselage.
"Captain! The Magus ran away!"
A teammate reported. Gallos looked back. The Magus had abandoned the convoy and fled far into the distance.
"Forget him! We're here to test weapons and hit the supply line anyway!" Gallos shook his head and dived toward the ground convoy.
He emptied his remaining ammo and dropped the 500kg bomb right in the middle of the large wagons, then pulled up.
His teammates followed suit. Without interference, they dropped their bombs leisurely, blasting five massive craters in the road and severing the route completely.
Then, like vultures, they circled at 3,000 meters, raining death on the survivors.
Every short burst of cannon fire turned low-rank knights into minced meat mixed with shattered armor. Weapons designed to hurt Seventh-Rankers were overkill for anything less.
"Let's go... Weapon test: Complete success!"
Gallos laughed, leading his five fighters back home, leaving behind a field of scattered limbs and supplies turned to ash.
Talisk Fortress. The Mana Pool.
In a pool now drained of nearly all its liquid mana, a figure slowly sat up.
Crimson eyes opened.
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