“Ace pilot, requesting to engage!”
“Enemy spotted at twelve o’clock!”
“Commencing bombing!”
Kuchi’s excited and sharp voice kept echoing in the flight squadron’s channel.
Some wanted to complain, but in the end, there was silence on the channel.
There wasn’t much to say; everyone had long been familiar with what kind of temperament this comrade usually had.
The Allied Air Force had just begun construction and had handed over a total of eighteen aircraft. Three aircraft formed a group, making six small squadrons, barely constituting an air squadron.
Eighteen pilots, part of whom were picked from the rudimentary ranks of the Old Alliance Air Force and the rest were simply young people selected from the military.
The Wind Falcons, equipped with Anti-Gravity Engines and assisted by a primary and a secondary servo-skull, were not exceptionally difficult to fly. Of course, ‘not difficult’ refers to the basics; it wasn’t hard to fly the aircraft, take-off and landing were not an issue, vertical takeoffs and landings were possible, and with the help of servo-skulls, crashing wasn’t typical.
However, while it was easy to start flying, not falling out of the sky was one thing, but mastering it was extremely hard. The lateral and longitudinal translational capabilities, the extremely high flying speed, the complex fire control systems, the physical endurance under high-speed flight…
To fly the Wind Falcon well was indeed not easy, even with the relentless assistance of the servo-skulls.
Yet, among the people who could barely fly the planes into the sky with the help of the servo-skulls, with less than twenty hours of flying experience each, there was an oddity like Kuchi.
His flying time was not much different from the others, but everyone had to admit, there truly were such things as geniuses in this world. Although his personality was not very reliable, he just flew bolder than anyone when in the cockpit, performing all kinds of exaggerated maneuvers as if second nature.
At first, the instructor critiqued him with a manual in hand, but later they gave up—the instructor was a novice as well, with about the same flight time as everyone else, and only had a hundred or so hours of propeller aircraft experience from back when he served in the Old Alliance Air Force.
The many moves that little Kuchi, who self-proclaimed as an ‘ace pilot,’ performed, were simply beyond his capability.
Thus, they let him be, at most reminding him not to pull any stunts during missions and to carry out his duties earnestly.
At this moment, this was the Allied Air Force’s first official mission since its establishment.
Except for Kuchi, everyone felt a bit nervous.
Fortunately, the enemies the Allied Air Force was currently facing probably didn’t require them to engage in any kind of air-to-air combat or dogfight, the kind of high-difficulty maneuvers with the aircraft.
Following the navigation and with the aid of the servo-skulls, they arrived at the target site. They fired the six heavy missiles carried by the Wind Falcons, then flew over the enemy, opened the bomb bay, and dropped their bombs, thus basically completing their mission.
Those confident in themselves flew the Wind Falcons in another loop, hovering and striking the ground with the aircraft’s twin-linked autocannons and laser rotary cannons, conducting direct strikes on ground enemies; those less confident, worried about hitting allied troops or making themselves dizzy with the maneuvers, hurried back, rearming with weapons and ammunition, and checking if there were further tasks where they could be of use.
The first to arrive at the battlefield and enter the attack range was Kuchi.
His flight formation, three Wind Falcons, rapidly depleted their mounts of six heavy missiles.
Their targets were the enemy’s bio-artillery troops.
Those creatures, looking like giants with their upper bodies raised and huge mouths open as if to roar bio-artillery shells into the sky, were caught unawares by the heavy missile strikes.
Clearly, these bio-artillery creatures weren’t prepared for a bombing; their formation wasn’t very tight, but nearly a hundred bio-artilleries were essentially stationed at the same position.
Three Wind Falcons, with a total of eighteen heavy missiles, wiped out a third of the bio-artillerists.
These living bio-cannons were in disarray.
Some still instinctively directed their firepower towards Crook Manor in the distance, but others seemed to cower, beginning to wriggle their massive bodies in an attempt to flee.
But they failed to escape.
Their mobility and agility were indeed not commendable.
What was more, they had encountered an outrageous pilot.
Kuchi called out, instructing the two wingmen in his group to bomb the enemy’s concentrated position as planned.
As for himself, he reduced the flight altitude and dove toward those bio-artillery troops.
The ten kilometers from Crook Manor to the enemy bio-artillery’s position took just one minute for the Wind Falcons at their speed.
During this process, Kuchi dropped his bombs, showering down on the enemies gathering to attack Crook Manor. He also brought those bio-artilleries within the firing range of his cannons.
The range of the autocannons and laser cannons was, of course, not that short. However, Kuchi, determined to seek a more effective and precise strike outcome, descended to a very low flight altitude.
The Wind Falcon he piloted, colored in shades of aqua blue, began to spew flames of death.
The red laser cannon fire, along with the roaring autocannons, carved a lethal path on the ground. Three bio-artilleries were blasted into pulp along a straight line of attack.