Steel and Mana

Chapter 553 – Ignis (3)

The airfield, created close to the mountain and right next to the Pride, was filled with airplanes from Avalon's Air Force. In the past days and weeks, almost all of them relocated here, leaving only a handful back home to train the rookies or at the other two passes, giving the newest recruits a chance to gain some experience. Right here, they represented the best Avalon could offer as lines of fighters sat in rows across the reinforced runway, each painted metallic silver with different colors added to the tips of their wings, grouping them together. The moment the alerts went out, and the first monsters appeared, ground crews were running between them, checking bolts, tightening the last panels, interrupting their inspections, loading ammunition crates that clattered loudly, finishing refueling them, or clearing the runway for takeoff.

Rashira, watching as the artillery began firing, stood beside her bomber, her fingers balling up into a fist while a crew of four was affixing bombs onto the underside of her wings. She was already in her flight suit, waiting to be given the order, but... It appeared she was to stay on the ground for now. Across from her, Brask was in the middle of running to his plane, yet he made time to stop before her, still smiling... as if this wasn't the end of the world.

“You know,” he began saying, “if you keep glaring at your plane like that, Princess, it’ll get nervous and underperform.”

"Aren't you supposed to take off...?" Rashira’s eye twitched as she shot back, “I am surprised you can fly with that big head of yours.”

"It is what keeps me in the air," He grinned, looking towards the explosions in the distance, "I think this will be a big one... So... Time to double my kills. I do intend to set a record that will not be broken for a hundred years... at least!"

"Sure," She sniffed, also looking at the bright light flashing in the distance, “Just make sure this isn't your last flight either.”

“That’s a given.” Brask nodded, his smile remaining the same, “That’s for my instinct to deal with, and I am good with that. Say... After all this ends, want to grab a coffee?”

“If you stay alive,” Rashira answered after a momentary pause, “Or if I do.”

"Don't worry," He shrugged. “When you're up there, I'll have your back.”

Their eyes locked at that moment, and Brask just kept grinning, not avoiding Rashira's cold yet warm gaze. He was about to say something when Lazlow stepped between them, wearing his own flightsuit, with the commander insignia on his chest, his helmet under his hand, looking at the two.

“Enough flirting,” he said strictly, causing Rashira to finally break her calm exterior.

“We are NOT—!” she tried, without much success.

“We are!” Brask echoed, making her even more aggravated.

"Shut it, or I am demoting both of you back to cadets," Lazlow grunted while he ignored both of them. “Orders came through! The fighters are to launch immediately," he said, then looked at Rashira, the Ace amongst the bombers, "Dive bombers stay grounded until General Oleg gives the signal." Then he turned back to Brask, "For now, we need only the fighters because if the flying variants break through the airship barrage, we’ll need you all in the air.”

"We..." Rashira swallowed whatever retort had been forming in her mouth, knowing orders were orders. “Yes, Commander.”

"On my way," Brask saluted with two fingers, already turning toward his plane. “Time to hunt!”

"This will be a long day," Lazlow’s gaze softened, looking at his friend, "Brask... Keep your head clear. You’re leading 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Squadrons. You must rotate them, and those who run out of ammo have to get down, refill, and join us back up.”

“Understood.” He nodded, already jogging away, quickly arriving at his plane in the foremost row.

“And Rashira.” Lazlow glanced back at her, “Your squadron stays on the runway. The moment the big one appears, that is when you are to get up into the air and wait for further orders. You understand?”

"Yes, Commander," Rashira nodded once, raising her hand to salute. “Crystal clear.”

"Good," Lazlow nodded, looking around, raising his comms to his mouth, “All fighter squadrons,” he barked as he began hurrying to his own plane, “Eagles to the sky!”

By the time Lazlow locked the cockpit of his plane, Brask was already taking off, leaving most of the bombers on the ground, unable to do anything but watch their comrades take to the skies.

“Don’t die,” Rashira muttered under her breath. “That would be a tragic end....”

Soon, one after another, they all lifted from the ground, taking a few rounds above them as more and more slotted into their formations, their shapes splitting into their respective squadrons. The orders were already flying out through the radios, as Oleg laid out their tasks and Brask’s squadron broke off to fly towards his spot, right around the biggest airship... the Camelot. They arrived in a perfect V-formation just as the closest wave of flying monsters slammed into the airship barrage, getting obliterated at a closer distance than it looked like from the ground.

They weren't getting through yet, forcing Brask and the rest of his group to circle around, watching their numbers keep growing, no matter how many were shot down from the skies.

"They are... different." One of his wingmates said as they watched them die, "The bone-bastards were quicker and deadlier."

"I agree," Brask hummed, "These don't have that sharp mind or instinct as those abominations did. Which means, we are here to pad our numbers. Anyone finishing less than a hundred kills is going to pay the whole squadron's tabs!"

"Keep it together," Lazlow's voice cut in over the radio as his group circled the Eagle's Nest, commanded by Oleg himself, "even if they are easier targets, their numbers are still staggering. You can get swarmed and killed even if they are stupid."

"I know, Dad," Brask chuckled, but then his voice turned more serious, “They are about to get through... Break formation and intercept! I want the skies clean around the Camelot!”

He dove immediately from above, slicing through the air like an actual eagle on the hunt. A beast with three wings and a maw splitting its skull in half was the first to try and reach the Camelot’s broadside, talons extended towards its massive shape. It probably wouldn't have done any damage to the Sovereign's own ship, but Brask didn’t think about that. They were ordered here, and for a reason, so he just fired. It was a clean hit as a burst of rounds tore through the creature’s face, killing it instantly. He watched as it spiraled downward, crashing into the just-arriving second monster midair and taking both of them out.

“Two for one,” he muttered, banking sharply left, "that's a good sign to start the day with!"

To his right, another creature fell out of the sky as his squadron all came in, like clockwork, in perfect sequence. While one ascended back into the high skies, their partner dove and fired, keeping the circle going and giving the planes above a chance to cover their comrades' assault.

“Focus,” Brask said as more and more creatures were coming through the airships' constant bombardment. “I’m not babysitting the whole squadron today. If you are running out of ammo, report before it goes empty, and we will rotate accordingly!”

Not that far from them, the Stormbringer's cannons began picking up in speed while firing, as apparently the cluster of beasts became the thickest around them and the Punisher. No matter how many they blasted apart, they just kept coming, and finally, a wave of them had slammed into the Punisher’s side, clawing at the armor plating, tearing actual gashes into its form as sparks flew everywhere.

“Lazlow, they’re swarming the Punisher!” Brask yelled, noticing it, coming out from another dive, racking up kills on the minute, looking around the battlefield in the process.

“I see it,” Lazlow answered from his own cockpit, his fighter weaving through three separate attackers that targeted the Eagle's Nest. “1st Squadron, on me! 2nd Squadron, cover the Camelot’s starboard! 3rd Squadron, tight formation, we’re cutting through their center and giving them some space in the process!”

The radio flared with acknowledgments as Brask’s fighter rolled, dove, then climbed, slicing through two creatures with his prop alone, before heading towards the Punisher, strafing the creatures from above, picking them off the airship's sides, doing it in a way that his bullets were made sure to avoid hitting the airship, even if he missed.

As for the pilots on the ground, watching it play out, they could do nothing but sit in their cockpits, waiting for their orders. Rashira's canopy was still open, feeling and hearing all the explosions, both in the sky and on the ground, making her lose herself in the experience, right until the point a mechanic beside her plane whispered, his voice trembling,

“This is… they’re everywhere…”

"Yes," Rashira exhaled slowly, forcing herself to be calm, “But focus on your duties. If Commander Lazlow calls us in, we launch immediately. We must stop the tide, or if they get through the mountains... everything will be lost.”

“But their numbers...”

“We will do our job,” Rashira said sharply to the young boy, “We will do what we must when called. This will be stopped.”

She didn’t mention the knot of worry in her stomach, because if she acknowledged it, that was already a bad sign... They will win and get through this. That was the only reasonable thought; otherwise, panic could set in and make her commit a fatal mistake.

Back up in the air, Brask’s world narrowed to only see his propeller, hear a monster shriek, and the flash of exploding flak nearby as he killed his target, going into a tight, sharp right-hand turn as a flying serpent-like creature lunged at him before he was finished. It was the biggest he had seen so far, almost fifteen meters long, lightning crackling between its fangs, clearly using magic.

"Cheater!" He growled while he jerked the controls, pulling his fighter into a climb that nearly snapped his wings off... But it was the right move as the serpent shot past him, jaws closing on empty air, “Hah! Not today,” Brask growled while he flipped the plane into a stall turn, a violent enough maneuver that no sane pilot would have attempted at this altitude and when surrounded by a bunch of hungry bastards.

Yet he did it, and executed it perfectly because he dropped behind the beast the next moment and fired, causing the serpent’s head to evaporate in a burst of bone, flesh, and blood. Still, he had no time to celebrate as two new ones were now eyeing him, slowly realizing that one plane from the swarm of others was killing more than anyone else. Without much thinking, Brask spun into a corkscrew, letting the wind slip beneath his wings, getting onto target, his bullets ripping into the monsters as he passed between them. One burst into pieces while the other lost a wing and spiraled toward the ground, crashing and dying in the impact.

“Brask!” Lazlow’s voice cut into the radio. “Pull back two degrees south, you are getting too far out!”

"I know," He answered briskly, already doing it, taking a look at the ground, seeing how the troops there weren't having it any easier. "Tsk..." He clicked his tongue, "The guys below are also swarmed..."

"They can handle it." Lazlow said after a brief pause, "We have to keep the skies clear so they don't need to worry about monsters swooping down on them. Let them focus on the walkers... we deal with the fliers!"

"Roger," Brask nodded, his eyes already locating a new target, "But if this keeps up, I soon will need a refill."

"Go if you must," Lazlow chuckled, "I wouldn't worry missing the fun... their numbers don't seem like they will thin out in the near future..."