Chapter 254 : Don't Get Angry—You Don't Have Any Real Skills Anyway

The fighter squadron returned to the temporary Maninos Air Base and, under the guidance of the control tower, landed one after another.

The ground crew, carrying ladders and maintenance equipment, rushed toward several fighters that had sustained heavy damage and were still trailing smoke.

William pushed open the canopy, slid down the ladder onto the ground, and gave the nearby ground crew a hug.

"Thank the Empress for watching over me—I made it back alive again!"

One of them smiled and asked, "So, how does the new fighter feel?"

"Hmm... It feels much more agile. But during high-G turning maneuvers, I can hear some very distinct abnormal noises. The airframe probably still needs some structural reinforcement. After all, our opponents can turn incredibly fast, so it's easy to lose your firing angle."

William shrugged after speaking.

"But overall, it's much better than before. At least now I can really pump shells into their backsides!"

"And whenever I see the furious expressions on their faces, I always think of an old saying. How did it go again? Ah, right..."

'Never get angry. Once you get angry, you'll use your real skills. And once you use your real skills, everyone will realize... oh~ so you didn't actually have any real skills after all~'

"Hahaha..."

Everyone around him burst into laughter.

After the laughter subsided, one of the accompanying experts responsible for recording combat data said,

"Structural reinforcement isn't difficult to upgrade, so you don't need to worry too much. Another batch of new aircraft will arrive tonight. They'll become your best partners."

William asked curiously,

"Oh? They're not Type Zeros? Then what are they for?"

"See those Shield Tanks over there? We've installed the same system onto large transport aircraft."

"From now on, whenever your fighters sortie, they'll always accompany you and deploy a temporary defensive barrier."

"In other words, they'll absorb and weaken the enemy's first wave of attacks for you. At the same time, they'll provide battlefield observation, guidance, and assist in assigning combat targets."

William took the water bottle handed to him and drank a mouthful.

"That sounds great. By the way, how are my unlucky colleagues who got shot down?"

"The maritime survival systems have performed quite well. We've already received distress signals from more than a dozen survival towers. Nearby warships and maritime transport aircraft have already gone to rescue them."

"Honestly, I'm almost jealous of you pilots. I never imagined the nation would be willing to spend this much on you. The surrounding seas are now filled with these emergency survival capsules that can support four people for an entire week."

William merely smiled.

After chatting for a while, he followed the rest of the squadron back to the conference room to conduct a detailed review of the battle, compile comprehensive reports, identify shortcomings, and submit recommendations for improvement.

The Alliance truly respected its soldiers like never before.

And that respect manifested itself in every aspect.

Setting everything else aside, simply wearing an officer-less ceremonial military uniform while returning home on leave granted soldiers priority access through government facilities and civilian services along the way.

Ordinary citizens would warmly greet them wherever they went.

Of course...

It would have been even better if they encountered fewer plainclothes military police checking identification documents.

The military benefits were even more remarkable.

Abundant—almost excessive—strategic stockpiles.

Protective upgrades fitted onto the simple Exoskeleton Armor issued to ordinary infantry.

Equipment that was constantly improved and upgraded based on soldiers' actual needs.

On-demand air and ground fire support...

Everything made soldiers genuinely feel that they were human beings—not disposable consumables.

From Mitia's perspective, this wasn't a loss at all.

She would never adopt the cold, purely rational mindset of assigning values like "fifty dollars per soldier" and then allocating resources solely to maximize theoretical combat effectiveness on paper.

Because once weapons reached human hands, their actual effectiveness ultimately depended on the person wielding them.

One soldier might fight desperately and unleash two hundred percent of his potential.

Another might throw down his weapon and run away, contributing absolutely nothing.

The intelligence reports detailing the Church State's large-scale collapse into mass surrenders had long since reached her desk.

It was a textbook example.

No matter how many guns, cannons, or soldiers they possessed, none of it mattered.

If they simply refused to fight, they became nothing more than transport units continuously delivering supplies to the Alliance.

Therefore, she had always adhered to one principle.

The very first group of soldiers willing to fight for you would always become your most loyal core.

And they were the people most deserving of receiving the very best treatment.

Because human nature constantly wavered between altruism and self-interest, those people must never be treated as expendable.

They were your finest subordinates.

They also became the standard by which everyone else judged whether a nation was truly worthy of serving.

Once they began dying meaningless deaths...

Once they died unjustly...

Once they failed to receive the respect and treatment they deserved...

Once people began thinking those soldiers were nothing more than fools throwing away their lives...

Then the ideological foundation of the military would begin to crumble.

The army would gradually fracture according to competing interests, eventually splintering into independent warlord factions.

Never assume such a thing couldn't happen.

If the generation possessing the strongest convictions disappeared too quickly and their lineage of ideals was broken...

No one could guarantee what kind of ideology would eventually become dominant among those who remained.

After all...

The living always had more influence over the world than the dead.

Military officers and state governors might require soldiers to sacrifice themselves and demand that civilians surrender their own interests in exchange for military achievements and political accomplishments.

But she didn't.

Her interests were fundamentally different from theirs.

Even if it meant paying additional costs, she was perfectly willing to bear them.

Because the foundation of her rule had always been ordinary citizens and ordinary soldiers.

As long as those two groups never became alienated, then even if one day military officers rebelled or individual state governments declared independence, her authority would remain unshaken.

She possessed both the confidence and the means to strip away the entire administrative framework and rebuild it from scratch.

Great efforts at the macro level were often defeated by laziness at the micro level.

That very civilian and military foundation also served as the executioner's blade hanging over the heads of every high-ranking Alliance official and general.

A single sentence from her could demote a Minister of Economic Affairs by seven ranks, leaving him as meek and obedient as a frightened quail.

Manor lords.

Business owners.

Industrial magnates.

Bureaucratic factions.

They were either physically eliminated into harmless waste...

Or they obediently lay beside her like loyal dogs.

When she declared a transition to a wartime economy, then the nation transitioned to a wartime economy.

Factories across the country shifted entirely toward military production.

Large numbers of civilian production lines were shut down.

The allocation of raw materials for civilian industries was reduced the moment she gave the order.

Not a single Chamber of Commerce dared utter even half a word of objection.

In less than three months, over forty percent of the nation's industrial capacity had already been redirected toward the military-industrial sector.

And the expansion was still accelerating at astonishing speed.

Even dry docks and shipyards were being constructed and expanded at a rate of several new facilities every single week.

Such an extraordinary level of control would have made the little mustached man from her previous life weep with envy.

Even after finally proclaiming total national mobilization in 1943, he had managed to redirect only thirty-one percent of his country's industrial capacity toward military production.

By the final year of his empire, he had still failed to raise either population utilization or industrial utilization beyond forty percent.

She, on the other hand, could reach forty percent with ease.

And that...

was the greatest source of her confidence that she could withstand a coalition of multiple nations.