This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 468.2: Are You Looking For This?

Hill 330, shrouded in night, was ablaze with flame.

At the same time, in the skies north of the Hill, 50 Eagle fighters emerged from beneath the clouds.

“Hill 330 is under heavy siege. The fighting has turned into chaos. Frontline units are not responding to your signals...” Staring at the raging battle, Akant picked up the radio and reported to headquarters.

He was the captain of the Falcon Kingdom’s air force, tasked by the Army’s command with supporting allied forces at Hill 330.

Under no circumstances could Hill 330 be lost!

Otherwise, the entire 4th Division would fall into crisis.

Akant was fully aware of the importance of his mission. Unfortunately, the battlefield below was a mess. He couldn’t see anything, and the ground units might as well have been deaf.

The command center couldn’t reach them either and could only instruct the squadron to use their own judgment to identify allies.

But in the pitch-black mess, there was nothing to be seen. There was no way to provide support...

“Damn it...” He cut communications and was just about to order a descent when, suddenly, he saw faint black dots emerge from beneath the clouds in the south.

New Alliance aircraft!

Akant’s pupils shrank.

The sight reminded him of that fierce dogfight above the City of Abundance.

To be honest, the New Alliance’s planes hadn’t left much of an impression.

They were propeller planes, crude and underwhelming in both maneuverability and accuracy, completely outclassed by the Eagle fighters.

Those aircraft looked cobbled together. They were cheap and nothing more.

But the pilots... Those pilots left a lasting impression.

The New Alliance’s pilots flew like demons, seemingly unafraid of death, willing to crash just to take their opponent with them.

However, this time, they didn’t have the Heart of Steel to protect them!

Without hesitation, Akant switched the radio to speak to his squadron and barked an order. “Enemy aircraft spotted due south!”

“Prepare to engage!”

They couldn’t let these planes get anywhere near Hill 330!

Before they could support the ground troops, they had to deal with those pesky propeller planes first.

At the same time, facing the Falcon Kingdom's air force,

Watching the formation of fighters charging straight toward them, Mosquito showed no fear at all. In fact, his eyes sparkled with excitement.

Earlier, when the Army’s Cutlass fighter did a lap around the Heart of Steel and left without engaging, both sides had simply let each other be.

The cautious administrator had deliberately waited until those enemy planes were low on fuel and safely out of range before giving the order for the planes in the airship to launch.

Mosquito had originally thought the escort mission would be boring. After all, the Army’s mobile radar station at Oasis No.3 couldn’t even spot them beyond visual range.

But, as always, the doggy developers didn’t disappoint!

Slamming the afterburner, Mosquito screamed excitedly into the communication channel, “All squads, heads up! Enemy fighter group spotted due north! Squadron A, continue with the escort! Squadron B, come with me! Brothers... Get them!”

Affirmative replies quickly came.

“Got it!”

50 W-2 Mosquito attack planes immediately broke from the formation, charging straight at the Falcon Kingdom’s air force.

Both sides clashed like lancers with leveled spears, aiming directly for each other’s vitals. No one flinched, and no one turned to avoid.

At this distance, even the slightest hesitation, even a momentary nudge of their control stick would mean allowing the enemy to get on their tails.

Once they reached firing range, both sides pulled the trigger at almost the same time!

Blazing hot bullets tore the soft night air, filling the sky with streaks of thick tracers, ripping apart the silence of night.

Within moments, a dozen planes were smoking. What began as orderly volleys devolved into a chaotic furball of twisting and chasing dogfights.

Iron rain fell from the sky, the flames of war leaping from the ground to the heavens.

Of the 40 Mosquito planes, over half were soon lost.

But the Falcon Kingdom didn’t walk away clean either, 15 of their 50 Eagle fighters were forced into the ground in the brutal exchange.

Akant gritted his teeth, struggling to regain control of his battered fighter. The wings and canopy had taken dozens of hits.

As he scanned the sky behind him, looking for a new target, something felt off.

The enemy hadn't committed all their planes. Some had already passed behind them and were on their way.

Were they... Were they not aiming for Hill 330?

“This isn’t right... There’s something off about those aircraft.”

Frowning, Akant peered through the thin clouds. In the center of the formation, he spotted several strange silhouettes.

That shape...

Transport planes?!

A chill ran down his spine.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the radio and yelled, “Command, be advised, we’ve spotted enemy transport aircraft!”

“... The enemy formation has bypassed Hill 330 and is advancing toward the 4th Division’s command post!”

Switching back to his squadron’s communication channel, he roared, “Enemy transports are breaching your airspace!”

“Intercept them now!”

As if realizing the gravity of the situation, the Falcon Kingdom’s squadron abruptly broke off from the dogfight with the Goblin Corps, scrambling to chase down the New Alliance transport group.

But it was already too late.

At Mosquito’s command, Squadron B turned and charged at the pursuing Eagle fighters.

Meanwhile, one by one, the transport planes leveled out and opened their cargo doors.

A red alarm light flashed.

Players clad in exoskeletons rose from their seats on either side of the cargo bay, strapped on parachutes, and lined up at the doors.

Wind howled through the cabin, tearing across their cool armor. Outside, bursts of gunfire and glowing tracers flashed past.

Despite the chaos and danger, not a trace of fear could be seen in the eyes of those present.

What could be seen was only burning resolve.

This was their stage!

Standing at the door in his Dragon Cavalry exoframe, Old White shouted into the Burning Corps’ communication channel.

“Check your maps, watch where you land!”

“Your target is the 4th Division’s command post! Don’t get shredded by their anti-air gun, and don’t land on top of the Death Corps! They’re taking the hill, but we’re taking the command post next to it!”

“Once you’ve cleaned up the mess below, go help the others!”

“Go, go, go!”

His thunderous voice was swept away by the roaring wind as Old White stepped out into the storm, followed closely by dozens of fully armed experts of the Burning Corps.

Compared to the night they landed on the Heart of Steel, this kind of firepower was nothing.

Parachutes bloomed in the sky like dandelions in fire, descending toward the ground under cover of night.

Below them, the brightly lit camp stood like a lighthouse in a storm, guiding them to their targets.

Noticing movement in the air, the last remaining anti-air gun on Hill 330 tried to fire on the Burning Corps paratroopers, but barely got two rounds off before being blown away by a grenade from the charging Wolf Cavalry.

At the same time, 100 kilometers away, a fighter streaked across the sky.

It was the returning Cutlass that had just finished resupplying.

The pilot had barely disembarked before being ordered to scramble again.

Watching the twinkling bursts in the distant night sky, he sneered.

Propellor planes...