This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 442: Codename "Falling Leaves"!

Chapter 442: Chapter 442: Codename "Falling Leaves"!

On the vast and endless wilderness, the roaring sound of tank cannons, like the beating of drums, exploded into thick, long flames across the horizon.

A Conqueror No. 5 light tank tried to flank the Skeleton Corps on their left side but was soon hit by a 155mm caliber high-explosive bomb.

The blast wave from the explosion surged into the tank’s interior through the gaps between the turret and hull and the observation ports, the horrific overpressure effect instantly perforating the crew’s eardrums, rupturing their spleens, causing bleeding from their mouths and noses... they were instantly incapacitated.

The tank moved forward for a bit and then came to a halt next to a shell crater.

One kilometer away.

In Tank No. 2 that had fired and hit the light tank, the player serving as the gunner excitedly swung his fist.

"Hit on the turret!"

"Niubi!"

"Hahaha! The power of this 155 is just too niubi!"

"Stop the chatter, Strength Type, load the next round quickly!"

"Crap, I got ID!"

The 60mm smoothbore cannon of the Conqueror No.5 light tank was like scratching an itch when faced with the Alliance’s No.2 tank.

Conqueror No.10 and No.11 tanks, capable of threatening Tank No.2, were successively targeted by Tank No.2 Model B.

The 60-megajoule railgun was already a weapon at the level of anti-ship combat.

A Conqueror No.10 Tank was locked on by the railgun, and as it charged to capacity, a deafening sonic boom burst out of the barrel along with the intense shockwave.

In that misty cloud, faint blue arcs of electricity were visible, followed by an orange-yellow afterimage lingering in the air.

The nearly 20-kilogram "steel needle" left not a hole but a deep inward-denting crater in the opposing tank’s hull.

The twisted steel, in an extremely brutal fashion, fused together, and the sparks that sprayed out ignited the ammo rack, turning the entire tank into a burning iron coffin, which exploded into brilliant fireworks on the sand dunes.

"Nice shooting! Haha!" the driver shouted excitedly, looking out through the observation window at the burning fire.

"Absolutely!"

The Mole, with a smirk on his lips, chuckled and pressed the capacitor charging switch while gripping the control stick to turn the turret towards a nearby dugout, switching to the coaxial machine gun to open fire.

Streams of red tracer bullets poured down like rain, making a deafening sound that could cause one’s ears to ring as they danced around the dugouts, sparking the deadly combination of fire and dust.

A soldier trying to retaliate with a rocket launcher didn’t even get a chance to aim and was riddled with dozens of bullets, falling into the pit like a torn rag.

Even though large-scale warfare greatly diminished individual capabilities, Agility system players’ advantage in reflexes still allowed them to outperform their equipment’s maximum combat power.

In terms of reaction and aiming speed, these puppet soldiers had no chance against the players.

"Don’t get entangled, keep moving forward!" The Mole shouted after firing again and destroying a tank that came from the north for support.

The 35 tanks, like the head of a spear, pierced through the southern side of the defense line. Following closely were troop carriers with infantry and then transport vehicles carrying supplies.

Light infantry hidden in dugouts tried to halt the advance of this iron torrent, but most were pinned down by the tank’s coaxial machine guns, unable to move.

Those were tanks.

The undisputed kings of land warfare.

How could a few infantrymen stop them without guided weapons and plane support?

The Mole admitted that the Army, which had strategically predicted their marching route, indeed had some skill.

Arranging the heavy tanks in a line and burying them in the sand as fixed bunkers, with dugouts in a line and light tanks deployed on the flanks to exploit mobility advantages for side attacks, was indeed a noteworthy strategy.

No matter where the Alliance engaged them on the frontline, they could pin the Alliance down on the Gobi beach with their strong armor and ample firepower, and then armored units converging from other directions would surround the Alliance.

However, both the Army and the Falcon Kingdom ultimately underestimated the Alliance’s strength, as well as the mobilization speed influenced by the corporations and their determination to support the battlefield.

When the No. 60 electromagnetic cannon was brought out, it already proclaimed the tactical failure of the Army.

When the Army’s heavy tanks were unable to block this spearhead, the seemingly impregnable wall would turn into a fragile sheet of iron.

All it would take was a single swing of a shovel, and a large gash could be prised open.

Those tanks buried in sand pits became immobile targets, merely waiting to be harvested.

It was the light tanks roaming on the fringes of the battlefront that caused significant trouble for the Skeleton Corps.

Though a 60mm smoothbore cannon couldn’t penetrate the Conqueror No. 2’s hull and turret armor, it was enough to break the tank’s tracks.

Firing on the move at the rolling tracks close to the ground required some luck, but as the battle persisted, they managed to score hits twice.

Two Conqueror No. 2 tanks had their tracks broken and became immobilized on the battlefield, a few players jumped down from a nearby truck with toolboxes in hand and ran towards the disabled tanks. However, before they could start repairs, a high-explosive bomb landed on the turret.

When the smoke from the explosion cleared, only a blurred mess of flesh and blood remained around the tank.

The dazed and disoriented tank commander sitting in the turret pulled off the intercom and bellowed into the open channel.

"Don’t worry about us—"

"You all keep moving forward!"

The two immobile Conqueror No. 2 tanks stopped trying to repair their tracks and acted as stationary gun platforms, using their 155mm smoothbore cannons to support their advancing comrades.

Although it wasn’t long before the two tanks were destroyed by the pincer attack from the Conqueror No. 11 heavy tanks from both sides, before they were taken out, they had managed to destroy six Conqueror No. 5 light tanks attempting to charge and intercept their allies’ flanks.

Both sides continued to sustain ongoing casualties.

Watching the stationary green dots on the VM screen, the Mole, seated in a tank destroyer, grit his teeth and ordered the troops to keep moving forward.

Four tanks were destroyed.

In addition to that, there were five troop carriers and two supply trucks.

Ten squads of infantry were forced to dismount, and of those, there were only 79 survivors.

Abandoned in such circumstances, their fate was sealed.

Taking a deep breath, Mole gave his orders over the group channel before they moved out of communication range with the command vehicle.

"Attention all squads, all units that have lost mobility will form Group B—"

"By any means, with any method you can think of, attack the enemy units closest to you, even if it’s just to delay them by a minute, or even a second!"

"See you on the forum!"

Although this order meant those who couldn’t move forward would be left behind, no one felt despair, nor did anyone complain.

The response to his command—

Was nothing but excited shouts and vows of courage.

The Army would never know that the Alliance’s greatest trump card wasn’t the 155mm artillery, nor the 60-megajoule railgun...

But rather the people in the shelters.

"Group B, Squad 1 received!"

"Squad 2 received!"

"Awooo! Squad 3 is charging!"

"I’m going to fight it out with them!"

"Never retreat!!"

Under the direction of their squad leaders, the abandoned infantry quickly dispersed, some charging forward with RPG rocket launchers on their shoulders, others occupying the dugouts previously suppressed by Alliance tanks, and digging out buried anti-tank weapons along with 10mm heavy machine guns.

To the soldiers and tank crews of the Falcon Kingdom’s First Armored Motorcycle Thousand Team’s great surprise, even after they destroyed the Alliance’s vehicles, they couldn’t afford to ignore the burning wreckage.

Even with flames engulfing their bodies, crew members climbing out of the tank turret still managed to pull out their pistols and open fire on them.

Looking at that face, like that of a ferocious demon, the tank commander sitting atop the Conqueror No. 10 tank turned slightly pale and subconsciously pulled the trigger, sweeping a hail of bullets from the tank’s coaxial machine gun in their direction.

The man atop the turret grunted twice before collapsing into the flames, soon turning into a charred corpse, yet the pistol remained clenched in his fist.

"...These people are all insane."

The tank commander couldn’t help but curse, preparing to rotate the turret to aim in another direction when a loud ’boom’ echoed from outside the turret.

Following that, the transmission system made a series of creaking noises, and the turret was stuck fast to the hull, unable to move.

A jet of molten metal from an armor-piercing round squeezed into the junction between the turret and the hull. Although it didn’t penetrate the turret, it had "welded" the parts underneath.

The tank commander’s face turned ashen.

"Damn it! My turret is jammed! Tilt the hull left 30 degrees, go in reverse, now!"

Clearing out these infantry scattered across the Gobi took some time, so much so that the supporting forces arriving from the north and south sides hadn’t managed to close the encirclement in time.

Led by five tank destroyers, the Skeleton Corps effortlessly tore through the defense line. In contrast, the Falcon Kingdom’s First Armored Motorcycle Thousand Team, spread out over tens of kilometers, dispersed like sands in the desert due to the ineffective support.

By the time they regrouped and caught up, the Skeleton Corps would have left them trailing by twenty to thirty kilometers.

The Mole breathed a slight sigh of relief.

However, just then, a shadowy figure standing atop a distant dune suddenly set off an alarm in his heart.

"Enemy tank spotted... Is that thing a tank? Strange, I can’t see its heat source."

The voice of Gnome King Riches came over the communication channel.

As an Agility system player endowed with the extraordinary ability of Thermal Vision, he served as the spotter for the Skeleton Corps.

The Mole, too, had seen the tank on the dunes, and Brother Fu Gui’s report only heightened his sense of something unusual.

The wedge-shaped armor looked quite modern—even futuristic—but the layout of the gun barrel embedded into the hull was oddly retro. Omitting the turret could indeed reduce the tank’s vulnerabilities, but how did it plan to aim at targets?

By twisting the hull using the differential speed of the tracks?

And the strangest part lay here—the tracks weren’t beneath the hull but rather suspended externally, skewed sideways like two snapped chopsticks.

"Target at 2.5 kilometers ahead! Tank destroyer group, fire!"

Five deafening sonic booms rang out, and five 20-kilogram steel darts struck the tank simultaneously.

Yet, the unexpected happened.

The tank wasn’t destroyed.

The shells, carrying terrifying kinetic energy, couldn’t even scratch or spark the outer shell, let alone penetrate the armor.

Everyone in the Skeleton Corps could hardly believe their own eyes.

Gnome King Riches swallowed hard, his voice shaking as he spoke.

"What the fuck..."

It must be fake, right?

There was no time left to debate reality; a loud cannon shot cut through the players’ thoughts.

The Mole only caught a glimpse of a shell casing being ejected from the opposing vehicle when suddenly a Type 2B tank on his left erupted into a blinding explosion!

Since the Type 2B tank had a metal hydrogen battery installed on top of the fuel tank to power the capacitors, the power of its explosion far exceeded the base model’s.

In that moment, he finally recognized the tank.

"Damn... It’s the Wanderer!"

The damned thing had already been delivered to Sunset Province!

What shocked him more was the power of that one shot.

Neither the intelligence provided by the Old Soldier nor the corporate shared information contained any data about its penetration depth, so the Alliance could only design the frontal upper hull and turret armor of the Type 2B tank destroyer based on the suggestion of the corporations, to ensure at least it could take a direct hit, increasing the penetration data for the 120mm smoothbore cannon by 120%.

However, he hadn’t expected...

that the terrifying armor-penetrating ability would still exceed their expectations.

Moreover, with armor that rivaled absolute defense due to the Meissner effect, conventional methods were utterly ineffective against it.

Mole gritted his teeth.

There was no time to hesitate...

Even naval-grade weapons couldn’t pierce that terrifying armor, let alone dreaming of using a 155mm howitzer against it.

The only option was to follow the reverse slope of the dunes ahead, circle to the sides of that monster, then disperse and continue to advance...

It had, after all, to use its tracks to adjust the direction of its cannon.

It certainly couldn’t fire to both sides at the same time!

Ideas raced through his mind, and in just one second, Mole made his decision and bellowed out loud.

"Type 2B tanks, form group C and follow me to the northwest!"

"Other units, disperse and advance to the southwest!"

"We’ll rendezvous on the east side of the airport!"

...

On the other side, about 100 kilometers south of Lost Valley, next to the sand dunes at the foot of the Xoerbar Mountain Range, lay a silver-gray flying machine shaped like a dragonfly.

flexible, blade-shaped wings stretched out behind it, folding and overlapping each other, while a pair of main thrust jet engines were located underneath the wings.

Its name was "Cloud Dragonfly," a Flapping Machine, with a front protruding nose under which hung a 35mm rotary cannon, and underneath its belly, it had a bay holding six neurally-linked/graphic recognition guided rockets, requiring a two-person crew to operate.

Compared to the "Dragonfly" transport made by Factory No.81, this thing much more closely resembled a real "dragonfly."

The 12 flexible, blade-shaped wings vibrated at a high frequency to stabilize the flyer in the air and allow for high-speed, all-angle maneuvers.

Its agility was greater than that of a rotary-wing helicopter, after all, a helicopter had to swivel its butt to turn, but it only needed to adjust the frequency of its vibrations.

And in extreme conditions, its instantaneous acceleration could reach over 9Gs, just like a real dragonfly!

And if it switched to horizontal flight mode, its cruising speed wouldn’t fall far behind that of a fixed-wing aircraft, considering that the main propulsion came from a set of twin jet engines.

Of course, although it could switch to cruise mode like the Tiger Whale Transport Aircraft, it was ultimately not a fixed-wing plane, and its top speed was close to Mach 1.

Compared to that, it was more like a highly agile armed helicopter capable of horizontal flight. It had no requirements for takeoff and landing environment, not needing to maintain a level attitude like a regular helicopter; as long as it wasn’t upside down, it was fine.

Thus, it could be carried on a truck to the vicinity of the battlefield for activation, like a tank, or could be deployed after being flown in and unfolded by a "Tiger Whale" Transport Aircraft.

For example, this "Cloud Dragonfly" had been deployed in the latter manner!

Due to its exaggerated payload and strong maneuverability, this type of Flapping Machine had achieved impressive results in combat against mutants, earning high praise from the military and civilians of the East Coast.

But this might have been the first time it was going to engage in combat with an army for a century...

Sitting in the pilot’s seat, Falling Feather took a deep breath and glanced at the time again.

The time had come.

The operation codenamed "Falling Dusk."

According to the operation plan formulated by the Army Command, the Skeleton Corps would reach the eastern side of Lost Valley before dusk and launch a surprise attack on an airport stationed with a fully-staffed ten-thousand-troop army under the cover of the "Cloud Dragonfly" Flapping Aircraft.

Although they were short on personnel, the Alliance had tanks, "Military Helicopters," and against a bunch of "fries" with no armor protection, the task shouldn’t be too difficult!

However, the Skeleton Corps still hadn’t appeared within communication range; they must have run into some trouble.

Although anxious, waiting any longer and it would soon be dark...

Looking at his co-pilot’s seat beneath his feet, Falling Feather said in a serious tone,

"The plan has changed. The Skeleton Corps can’t make it, we might have to go it alone."

Relying on a single "Military Helicopter" to attack the airport was frankly no different from suicide.

But there were no other options now.

Every second of delay increased the threat to the Alliance’s homeland.

The co-pilot, wearing a pilot’s helmet and chewing gum, sparingly replied with just a word.

"Roger."

Falling Feather: "..."

Are newbies these days all so cocky?

"Star River Not Entering Dreams"—the ID sounded like it could belong to an anime fan, but the person behind it surprisingly had rich flying experience, and it was with helicopters, no less.

The most critical part was that this guy was a big brain from the Intelligence System!

Because of Brother Mosquito’s influence, the majority of Alliance pilots trained in the Agility system.

After all, specialties in reflexive and visual nerves provided far more help to pilots than muscle and metabolic functions, and the Agility system was easier to level up than the Perception system.

To train an Intelligence System up to Level 10 Awakening and also have helicopter flying experience—that kind of player was as rare as a panda on the server, and after much searching, they had picked out this guy.

Speaking of which, was this guy from Navy Aviation?

Or a trainee?

However, Falling Feather didn’t ask further; not prying into one’s real-life identity and name, and not discussing work inside the game, was an unspoken rule that had long been upheld.

He’d only vaguely heard some unclear rumors.

A certain newly established "relevant department," through some method, from that even more mysterious operator, had gotten many good things beneficial for the country, and all of this couldn’t be separated from the players’ efforts in the game.

Although it sounded a bit like an urban legend, if it was true, then that mysterious relevant department should organize "professionals" like himself to enter the game, right?

Thinking this, Falling Feather couldn’t help but wonder why the higher-ups hadn’t organized him into this.

Was it because of the rules and the need for confidentiality, or was it because everyone was "bringing their own provisions"?

Or maybe...

That rumor was just a rumor, and the so-called mysterious relevant department didn’t exist at all, just one explanation hidden among countless smoke bombs.

However, no matter the situation, it didn’t matter.

Questions that shouldn’t be asked, shouldn’t be asked. Topics that shouldn’t be raised, should not be mentioned.

He only needed to do well what he was doing now. As for other matters, naturally, there were people who should worry about them...

"Are you flying or not?" the gunner chewing gum criticized.

"Alright, alright, I’m starting up!"

Falling Feather’s train of thoughts, interrupted, twitched his eyebrows fiercely, resisted the urge to kick the gunner, and, recalling the instructions from the manual, flipped the engine’s switch with his index finger.

The twin main engines spurted out a pale blue arc light, buzzing like a hairdryer, with the tumbling airflow whipping up clouds of dust.

The twelve wings, divided into four groups, unfolded to the sides and quivered like waves, finally turning into invisible traces.

Having never flown such a sci-fi vehicle before, Falling Feather was thrilled; he gripped the control stick with both hands.

"Hold tight!"

Without waiting for the gunner to reply, the aircraft crouching on the dune leaped forward like a frog, and the velocity of its forward thrust rapidly climbed to 120 knots, then quickly soared toward 400 knots.

"Damn impressive..."

Seeing the rolling dust and sand beneath his feet, Star River, in the gunner’s seat below, couldn’t help but utter two words in awe.

The Military Helicopter 10’s top speed was just 300 knots, and the usual cruising speed was around 200 knots.

This Flapping Machine’s maximum speed not only far exceeded the limits of ordinary military helicopters, but it also could "catapult start," sprinting to 100 in two seconds... What kind of anti-air missile could hit this thing?

It’s a good thing this is all in a game.

If this were real life, it would scare the enemy to death!

The surprise lasted only a few seconds.

Star River, operating the onboard radar, recalled the training from corporate instructors and activated it.

The pale blue cursor swept over the screen, scanning for radio signals within ten kilometers and life signals within one kilometer, searching for enemy targets.

A distance of 100 kilometers was but a ten-minute affair for the Cloud Dragonfly, moving at a cruising speed exceeding 500 knots.

Using up a quarter of the energy reserves, the outlines of a valley on the distant Gobi Plateau soon emerged.

And what caught both their eyes at the same time was a sweeping cloud of dust and the thundering charge of cavalry.

The Army’s machine-gun posts were spitting flames, furiously firing at the horsemen.

Their sturdy breastplates provided some protection, but against the 10mm caliber heavy machine guns, the effect wasn’t significant, even less so than the cover created by the horses kicking up dust.

They were brave.

Even as comrades continuously fell from their horses, there was no halt in the momentum of the charge.

But what stood before them were at least six machine guns, five wheeled armored vehicles, and nearly a hundred soldiers armed with automatic weapons.

Even though the cavalry held the absolute advantage in numbers, their firepower couldn’t compare to their foes’ will.

And the gap between them couldn’t be closed by courage alone.

It was hard to say how many of them would remain when they managed to charge the enemy positions...

Star River, who was operating the onboard radar, spotted those people first.

"We’ve detected scant radio signals ahead... What are those? Cavalry?"

Falling Feather, piloting the Flapping Machine, raised the altitude by ten centimeters, allowing a broader view to observe the situation ahead while ensuring safety.

"They’re probably the Camel Hump Kingdom’s cavalry."

"Camel Hump Kingdom? Weren’t those guys sitting still on the border?"

"They were, but according to posts on the official website, it seems Falling Leaves and her group are trying to persuade Petra Fortress to join the battle."

Hearing Falling Feather’s reply, Star River paused for a moment.

"...Is that possible?!"

He had heard rumors that in "Wasteland OL," players’ actions could change the game world’s historical course and the progress of updates, but he couldn’t believe it was actually true!

This was even more startling than the "virtual reality network" based on player cognition and dreams.

After all, this suggested that before updating a version, Dog Plan organizers had prepared N versions to correspond to N possible changes in world timelines.

"Anyway, this is good news for us. If they can successfully hold back the Army’s support units, we can maintain low-altitude flight and rush to the edge of the airport... But it looks like they won’t hold out much longer."

"Should we give them a hand?"

"Can you hit them from your position?"

"Altitude isn’t sufficient unless we climb 50 meters—" Star River shook his head, cutting his sentence short mid-way, as his face dramatically changed and exclaimed, "Directly ahead at 10 kilometers, an angle of 60 degrees, an unidentified flying object is approaching us at a speed of 6 Mach!"

"6 Mach!?"

That could only be a missile!

Almost instinctively, Falling Feather stomped on the left rudder and pulled the control stick upward.

The "Cloud Dragonfly," speeding close to the ground, shuddered, executing an almost instantaneous shift to the upper left.

However, even with a speed nearly resembling teleportation, it narrowly missed being hit by that lethal strike!

The dust raised by the explosion was left kilometers behind by the speeding Flapping Machine.

Before they could celebrate their narrow escape, a barrage of machine-gun fire roared towards them, arriving alongside that red dot which had just penetrated the radar’s perimeter.

The sound of breaking the sound barrier came from above, followed by the belated roar of the machine guns now drifting in from directly ahead.

"...Damn!"

Staring at the cracked canopy, Star River cursed, whipping his head around, but the plane was already out of sight.

"Damage report!"

"The right secondary wing group has two damaged wings, but the main engine is intact; it’s not a major problem—"

Before Falling Feather could finish, Star River had already pressed the weapon system switch.

With a few whooshing sounds, five rockets were launched from their pods, speeding towards five wheeled reconnaissance vehicles on the distant ground.

With the support of the neural link system, he had locked onto the targets in almost 0.3 seconds.

Those five reconnaissance vehicles had no chance to evade or even to turn their guns towards the Flapping Machine that suddenly appeared in the sky before being turned into scrap metal by the metallic hydrogen charged rockets.

The guarding forces on the south side of Lost Valley were stunned by the scene, with a fierce web of fire momentarily pausing.

They only saw several white trails come from beyond their line of sight and then their reconnaissance vehicles were blown to pieces.

The cavalry of the Camel Hump Kingdom were similarly stunned.

But the flames that burned brought them not fear, but hope of victory.

"It’s reinforcements!"

The charging Chief Guard, lifting his carbine with a bayonet attached, yelled.

Even though he had been shot several times.

Even though his shoulder and leg were soaked in blood.

His eyes, bloodshot, still glaring, roared with a deafening rage.

"For the Kingdom! For the Gods! For our homeland—"

"Charge!!!"

Above the Desert Sea.

Trying to save the damaged wing, Falling Feather gritted his teeth and steadied the control stick; then, looking down at the gunner, he shouted.

"Why did you open fire all of a sudden?"

"There’s no time!"

Sitting on the gunner’s seat, Star River had swallowed his gum and coolly analyzed.

"The radar feedback shows that airplane’s speed is at least two Mach. Even if we climb and switch to cruising mode to evade, we can barely make one Mach... and he would only need one more dive to take us out. We wouldn’t even make it to the valley."

"...There’s more than one jet deployed by the Army in Sunset Province. There’s also an escort fighter!"

Thinking a helicopter can take on a fighter plane is a bit of wishful thinking, even if it’s armed with air-to-air missiles.

This has nothing to do with the level of technology; it is determined by their respective roles on the battlefield.

Being able to dodge the first round of attacks, they must have never seen such a novelty, and they didn’t expect that in the middle of level flight, they would perform an almost perpendicular "right angle ninety-degree side maneuver"!

And that too at nearly 9G ejection speed!

Now, however, that trump card had been seen.

If it were him, the next dive would certainly not just simply involve a light tap on the fire button but a long press of at least one second for a strafing burst!

He wouldn’t bet on a second mistake from the other side.

If they couldn’t make it to the airfield...

At the very least, they had to insert their allies’ ground forces before crashing!

As he spoke, Star River’s movements didn’t stop; he quickly switched to the 30mm rotary cannon and rained down bullets on the machine gun fire point on the southern side of Lost Valley.

Seeing his intent, Falling Feather tacitly pulled up on the controls and maxed out the power of the main thrust engine, sacrificing maneuverability for maximum acceleration.

"Ever been a copilot on a two-seat attack plane?"

"No, why?"

"Nothing."

Falling Feather took a breath and continued.

"I’ll give you a taste of it!"

Including the damaged and broken flapping wings, twelve blade-shaped wings no longer trembled but folded inward, overlapping and combining into a single wing.

Blue arc-light spewed, heating the ionized air as Cloud Dragonfly shot upwards, breaking the sound barrier in an instant.

At that moment...

The "Cloud Dragonfly" soaring into the sky turned into a streak of light!

The torrent of bullets from above, like feathers shed by a bird in mid-flap, scattered over the south side of Lost Valley, landing in the direction of the galloping cavalry hooves.

Death rained fire from the heavens, and the machine gun positions on the southern edge of Lost Valley were blown into disarray, their firing power rapidly diminished.

The 35mm high-explosive bombs left marks not the size of an eye but of a washbasin on the ground!

Without the suppressive fire of the machine gun positions, the defense force, less than a hundred strong, was quickly overwhelmed by the charging sea of cavalry.

Some were trampled into mud by hooves, others were impaled through the throat by bayonets, and many more were shot dead by the carbines in the cavalrymen’s hands while fleeing behind cover.

After suffering more than half of their casualties, the Alliance’s "armed helicopters" came in support, and finally, a breach was torn in the southern defenses of the Army.

However—

The firestorm that burned to guide the cavalry charge did not last long.

The moment the cavalry charged into the camp, the thunderous machine gun fire fell upon the head of the "Cloud Dragonfly" Flapping Machine sooner than expected.

Under the barrage of 20mm cannons, the twelve overlapping wings broke off in an instant.

The cockpit canopy shattered, the engine spewing blue light shot out red flames and electric sparks jumped!

Yet before turning into a lump of scrap metal, it managed to burn itself out, emptying all its spare ammunition, and fired the last remaining missile in the rocket pod—

Two trails of white smoke shot out from the blazing explosion.

One fell toward the valley.

One headed for the airfield...

-

(Thanks to "Dream Tribe Ling Xue" for the lord-level reward!!!)

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