This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 490.1: Did Those Bastards Shove Bodyguards Into Their Cockpits As Well?!

Chapter 490.1: Did Those Bastards Shove Bodyguards Into Their Cockpits As Well?!

Falcon City.

Atop the massive Levee...

Soldiers of the Falcon Kingdom were crouched behind cover, maintaining high alert.

A few days prior, the New Alliance’s announced an airstrike on Falcon City, but gave no indication of the direction it would come from. The entire city had only 32 anti-aircraft guns, eight of which had been reassigned to the royal palace in the city center. That left just 24 guns spread along tens of kilometers of alloy walls. It was barely any firepower.

The officer in charge of defending the southeastern sector was Horett. Until a month ago, he had been a Decurion in the King’s Royal Guard. However, due to the greatly weakening frontlines, many officers from the forces in the city had been reassigned into the regular army, and in just one month, he had been promoted three times to become a Centurion in the city Defense Force.

His rapid rise in rank should have been a source of joy, but he couldn’t feel the slightest optimism. Instead, his heart was heavy.

Until the month before, his salary had been enough to feed and clothe his two wives and their families. However... Even though his pay had more than doubled since he was a Decurion, his whole household was struggling just to stay fed.

Not to mention the fact they were in the Oasis!

Even if the rest of the world’s wastelanders starved, the people there should never have had to worry about food or water.

It is all because of this damned war.

Trying to shake off his gloom and rally himself, he raised his voice once he reached the frontline. "Everyone, stay alert! Keep your eyes wide open! The New Alliance’s planes will approach under cover of the clouds! Aim the spotlights at the edges and gaps in the clouds, watch them closely! No matter what, don’t let a single plane through!"

"Long live the Falcon Kingdom!"

"Long live..."

The soldiers responded loudly, but their voices could not wash away the bitterness and confusion in their eyes.

On a three kilometer wide front, there were only 120 men, two light machine guns, and a single anti-aircraft gun.

And it was night time.

Expecting their weapons to shoot down the New Alliance’s planes was less realistic than hoping the pilots would misread the map and crash into the wall.

Horett knew he was asking the impossible, but he had no choice but to boost morale.

Just then, a pale flash streaked across the distant sky, followed by a muffled thunderclap.

Is it going to rain?

Maybe tonight’s airstrike would be canceled... no, wait!

Staring at the horizon, Horett’s face suddenly changed. He yelled at the top of his lungs, "Take cover!"

Almost the moment his voice fell, a red smoke trail plummeted from the sky and struck the farmland a few hundred meters ahead of the Levee.

A deafening explosion drowned out the rushing air. Orange-red flames soared a hundred meters high, sending wave after wave of searing heat.

Charred wheat, burning debris, shattered soil and stone... Everything was carried upward by the dense, scorching smoke.

The first shot missed, but no one dared let their guard down. Soon, another white flash lit up the clouds in the distance, and the thunderous roar of the cannon arrived alongside the blast near the Levee.

Though the 400mm main cannon had poor accuracy at such distance, its sheer power was enough to strike fear into every soldier’s heart.

They could miss as many times as they liked... However, for those on the Levee, all the New Alliance needed to do was to hit once...

A nearby friendly unit wasn’t so lucky. The third shell slammed directly in front of them.

The searing shockwave dented the once-smooth alloy plating downward.

Even though the relics of the old world couldn’t be destroyed by conventional weapons, the sheer force of the blast swept away every bit of cover on the Levee.

The explosion rang in Horett’s ears, making his organs tremble. The adjutant beside him was equally shaken. His hands and feet were ice-cold and his face filled with terror.

Just now, that one shell had likely wiped out an entire company!

"By the Spirit of the Desert... they’re over 70 kilometers away! How the hell are they still hitting us?!" The adjutant's voice trembled, as if ready to flee.

"It’s rocket-assisted shells..."

Normal shells couldn’t reach that far. But rocket-assisted ones were another matter.

Horett swallowed hard, eyes locked on the vast smoke cloud three kilometers away.

Thankfully, the 400mm cannon hadn’t destroyed the Levee. The dented but intact alloy brought a sliver of comfort.

At least the gods were still on their side, for now.

But before they could celebrate, dark shapes emerged from beneath the clouds, and terror filled the eyes of the defenders.

"Look over there!"

"The New Alliance's planes!"

Those growing black silhouettes, like vultures circling overhead, made Horett feel as if he could already see the beasts’ fangs and claws.

"Dammit... how many do they have?!"

No time to hesitate, Horett ignored the cannon fire in the distance and bellowed, "Man the guns! Stop them!"

...

Hundreds of planes surged forward. The defenders of Falcon City were in complete panic.

However, they weren’t the only ones panicking.

Sitting behind Night Ten, Old White’s heart was in his throat. He clenched his jaw, afraid the wind would blow his soul clean out of his body.

God damn unpowered gliders...

As the name implied, they had no engines. To gain speed, they had to dive. Once past the optimal glide ratio, they needed to pitch up to regain their altitude.

Their flight paths were like roller coasters, full of ups and downs.

In some distant time and space, those were called assault gliders. Like barrage balloons, they weren’t some wild high-tech fantasy. From wartime surplus markets to Operation Oak, they had been used before.

Compared to parachutes that floated forever, gliders had short airtime and could reach speeds up to 300 km/h, faster than a bullet train. They also had more space than a mere backpack, allowing their paratroopers to carry extra gear and ammo.

But despite the advantages, their major flaw was the high accident rate. Those gliders were deathtraps! Originally launched by tow trucks, winches, or planes, they were like paper planes being flung into battle, with crash rates rivaling the belly turrets of heavy bombers.

After WWII, both went into history’s graveyard, only showing up again in extreme sports.

Apparently, some asshole realized the Heart of Steel had altitude superiority and resurrected those relics with makeshift boosters.

The tracer fire in the distance actually calmed Old White a bit.

No matter what, at least they were heading in the right direction.

"Night Ten, Aim properly!" Gale howled with excitement, eyes blazing with madness that was rarely seen on the professor’s face.

"You got it! Give me a nice angle!" Night Ten chuckled, gripping the heavy machine gun handles. The barrel extended outside the cockpit, targeting the Levee.

As the glider dipped its nose, he pulled the trigger.

Gunfire and hot casings flew past them as orange tracers rained down on the Levee like fireflies.

150 gliders opened fire at once. The defenders below couldn’t even raise their heads under the barrage.

But due to limited angles, the strafing only lasted about 30 seconds. The defenders quickly returned to their anti-air guns. There, they found the barrage had been just the prelude, the real nightmare was just beginning.

20 W-2 attack aircraft broke formation, diving toward the Levee. After strafing, they dropped bombs that had been slung under their wings.

Explosions bloomed like flowers in the darkness.

On a 10 kilometer frontline, the only four anti-aircraft guns were reduced to scrap metal.

Watching the flames, twisted metal, and soldiers firing obsolete bolt-action rifles skyward, Horett’s face filled with despair.

A Decurion covered in blood came limping over, panting as he reported, "Sir! The New Alliance destroyed our anti-air guns! We... We have no defenses left!"

"I’m not blind. I can see that!" Cutting him off, Horett adjusted his cap and turned to look northwest, toward the palace.

From any point on the Levee, it was just 10 kilometers to the royal castle. For a plane, it would cover that distance in mere minutes.

Closing his eyes in pain, he whispered, "It’s over..."

The southeastern defenses had been breached. The anti-aircraft guns on neighboring fronts were still firing, but at such a distance, they were useless.

Tracers streaked through the night like embers from a bonfire.

Bathed in searchlight glow, the commander of the Royal Guard, Midal, stood atop the central castle tower and finally saw the distant shadows approaching.

His face turned pale.

50?! No... There are at least 100 planes!

Wasn’t the 1st Air Squadron supposed to have devastated the New Alliance air force at Oasis No.3?!

Where the hell did all these come from?!

Those aircraft clearly hadn’t launched from Bist Town. They had to have come from the Heart of Steel, tangled in the barrage balloons.

Just minutes ago, command had told him Akant’s squadron was engaging the New Alliance over Oasis No.2.

Both sides had committed over 100 propeller planes in fierce dogfights.

How many damn pilots did the New Alliance have?!

No... How many survivors did they need?!

He heard there were barely 5,000 or 6,000 left in Clearspring City. Yet the enemy just kept coming.

As Midal feared, the scattered anti-aircraft guns couldn’t stop the New Alliance.

A few planes peeled off and easily destroyed the placements of the guns along the way. The rest flew straight over the Levee, diving toward the royal castle.

Only a few kilometers remained.

Midal shouted in a last ditch effort, "Open fire!"

Eight quad-barrel anti-aircraft guns around the castle roared to life, tongues of flame lighting up the aircraft silhouettes.

But... The barrage didn’t last long.

Black streaks shot through the sky like arrows, breaking off from the planes and slamming into the towers where the guns were stationed.

“Goddamn it!” Watching the explosions engulf the towers, Midal’s eyes reddened and he cursed in fury. "What the hell are those things?!"

The city’s defense commander beside him was equally stunned.

Bombs?

No... impossible...