Chapter 406 - 392: Bombing Wing

Chapter 406: Chapter 392: Bombing Wing

The lift’s winch let out a teeth-jarring screech as the car passed through the final isolation gate. The smell in the air changed. It wasn’t the scent of the surface, with its hints of sea salt and fresh plants, but a mixture of ozone, chitin, and some kind of cloyingly sweet, fermented odor—the smell of the hive.

Velin stepped out of the lift car, his leather boots making a wet SQUELCH on the ground, which was covered in a fungal carpet.

This was five hundred meters underground, an absolute restricted zone.

Countless glowing sacs hung from the enormous dome, illuminating the subterranean palace in a shifting, flickering light. And in the central incubation pool, Sarah was submerged in a pale green nutrient fluid.

Her human features had grown more pronounced since he had last seen her. The chitinous shell that had once covered her entire body was receding, revealing pale, soft skin. Only the joints of her limbs still retained sharp bone spurs, making her look like an unfinished work of art—both beautiful and monstrous.

"Father."

Sarah opened her eyes.

They were no longer terrifying compound eyes, but a pair of captivating, deep purple irises.

Her pupils held the clarity of two springs, and their movements revealed the unique liveliness and cunning of a young girl. If not for the surrounding fungal carpets and slime, anyone would have mistaken her for some carefree noble daughter, gazing at her father with adoration and trust.

Her lips, shimmering with a faint purple luster, parted slightly. Her voice was deep and magnetic—elegant, unhurried, and carrying an innate authority.

"Congratulations on another perfect molt." Velin looked at the shed cuticles floating on the pool’s surface. His tone was flat, yet it held a hint of imperceptible approval. "The new carapace has an excellent sheen."

"It was a necessary ascension." Sarah rose slowly from the nutrient fluid, her movements fluid and graceful. Her soaking wet, long hair—in truth, countless mimetic tentacles—draped down her smooth back like a black cape.

She gave a slight nod, sensing the new gains from her internal restructuring. "This time," she replied, "the changes were focused on the procreation module. I can now grant my offspring High Tier neural reflexes and environmental adaptability."

Velin walked to the edge of the pool and pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression unchanged.

"The current ’Hive Terminal’ has a fatal flaw." He pointed upward. "A ground coverage radius of five kilometers is enough for the army. But for an air force, it’s a joke. Once they exceed an altitude of eight hundred meters or encounter strong turbulence, the hive matrix fails. I can’t have my Knights going blind at ten thousand meters."

"So, you need a relay node." Sarah folded her hands in front of her and tilted her head slightly. Even with the monstrous insect abdomen behind her slowly twitching, her composed demeanor lent the sight a kind of cruel beauty.

"I need a living, flying, enormous signal tower," Velin corrected. "Can you evolve the King Insect again?"

He pulled a rough sketch from his coat, which depicted a bloated biological structure.

"Strip it of its combat organs; they’re a burden. Reinforce its epidermis so it can withstand the cold of high altitudes. Most importantly, right here—" Velin’s finger tapped the abdominal cavity on the sketch, "—implant it with high-efficiency gas-generating sacs. I want it to float above the clouds like a hot-air balloon."

Sarah took the sketch, her fingertips tracing elegantly over the paper. After a moment of contemplation, the insect queen nodded slowly.

"Using lighter-than-air gas for lift... sacrificing useless combat systems to convert the abdominal cavity into a gas bladder," she murmured, her voice a soft whisper. "A very efficient modification plan. Since it is your will, Father, the swarm will achieve this 100% perfect form for you, even if it defies the natural laws of evolution."

"Then begin." Velin turned and looked at the busy Worker Ants in the distance. "I’m going to weave a web across this world. A web that no one but us can see."

...

「One week later.」

This had once been a nameless, barren island located in the open sea, thirty nautical miles east of Minas Tirith. The island was home to nothing but bare rock and a stomach-churning layer of seabird droppings.

But now, it had become the Duchy’s top-secret training ground.

One hundred handpicked Knights stood on the shingle beach, their faces mostly pale. This wasn’t just from seasickness, but also because of the "mounts" before them.

Big Thief Gulls.

These ferocious seabirds, with wingspans exceeding five meters, were the hooligans of these waters. They had grayish-brown feathers, beaks curved like hooks, and yellow eyes filled with greed and savagery. They didn’t fish; they robbed.

"All of you, stand up straight! You spineless cowards!"

Ola’s roar drowned out the crashing of the waves. The half-Dwarf Baron was dressed in custom-made leather flight armor, carrying his signature battle-axe, his great beard whipping wildly in the sea breeze.

"Look at you, you pathetic lot! It’s a bird, not a dragon! What’s there to be afraid of?" Ola kicked the rear of a young Knight who was trying to shrink back. "Back in Shiyan Town, a bird like this is just a slightly bigger pheasant!"

"Sir... this ’pheasant’ just tried to peck my eye out," the Knight said, clutching a dent in his helmet, on the verge of tears.

Indeed, taming these aerial bandits was no easy task. Although they had established initial communication through the "Hive Terminal," preventing the birds from treating the Knights as lunch, their ingrained, untamable nature was still giving the Knights a world of trouble.

Worse still was their coordination.

In the air, the wind drowned out all shouts. Flag signals? Don’t be ridiculous. At a hundred kilometers per hour, who had time to watch for waving flags?

"Their coordination right now is a pile of dogshit." Ola spat, looking toward Velin, who was standing on a reef. "Sir, without that so-called ’system,’ these kids would be flying to their deaths. The moment they enter the clouds, their formation scatters like a flock of chickens chased by a dog."

Velin said nothing, merely raising his wrist to glance at his intricate mechanical watch.

"It’s time."

The words had barely left his mouth.

The ground in the center of the island suddenly began to shake. The camouflage netting covering it was torn apart, and several suffocatingly massive shadows slowly rose.

A panicked commotion erupted among the Knights.

They were gigantic creatures, each over fifty meters in size. They looked like some kind of enormous, inflated worms, their skin a translucent, grayish-white. Through their hides, one could even see the churning gases and thick nerve cords within. They had no wings, yet they floated in midair, defying gravity, with only a few thick tentacles hanging down lazily, swaying in the wind.

The modified King Insects—codename: "Kirov."

"All units, attention." Velin’s voice echoed across the beach, amplified by Magic. "Equip your terminals."

With trembling hands, the Knights placed the black Hive Terminals on the napes of their necks.

A faint, stinging sensation followed.

Immediately after, the airborne "Kirovs" let out a low hum. Their bodies swelled, and an invisible ripple spread out from them, enveloping the entire airspace.

HUMMM—

The young Knight, Barton, felt a roar erupt in his mind.

In that instant, all the chaotic background noise—the wind, the waves, his comrades’ cries of alarm—vanished completely. In its place was a clear, cold, and exceedingly orderly world.

[Link established.]

[Loading tactical interface...]

Barton’s eyes widened in astonishment. His field of vision had changed.

A pale blue cursor appeared on his retina. A green name and status bar hovered above each of his teammates’ heads. And deep within his consciousness, he felt... the bird.

He wasn’t just riding on the bird’s back; he *had become* the bird.

He could feel the airflow beneath the Big Thief Gull’s wings, the tension in its muscles, and even every single beat of its heart.

He felt his mind connecting even more tightly with the Magical Beast beneath him.

’Is this... unity of man and bird?’ Barton muttered to himself.

[All you rookies, listen to my command!] Ola’s voice boomed directly through the public channel, without a hint of wind interference.

[First Squadron, take off! Target: cumulonimbus cloud due north, altitude three thousand meters! Formation: V-shape!]

There was no delay, no confusion.

Fifty Big Thief Gulls beat their wings in unison, their movements so uniform they could have come from a single mold. They shrieked as they soared into the sky, carving perfect arcs through the air.

Within the three-dimensional network established by the "Kirovs," every Knight could see their teammates’ positions, speeds, and intended trajectories in real time. The fear brought on by blind spots was completely gone.

Velin stood on the reef, gazing up at the black specks disappearing into the clouds.

"Tristan."

"Yes, my lord." Tristan stepped forward to Velin’s side, his eyes shining with a mixture of shock and pride. "This is... a miracle."

"Not a miracle. Technology," Velin corrected. "Are the bombs ready?"

"Master Valerius’s masterpiece." Tristan pointed to the wooden crates stacked nearby. "’Bathwater’—that’s the name the Master gave them himself. In reality, it’s a highly concentrated alchemical fuel mixed with an unstable crystal called Thunder Element. Each one only weighs five kilograms, but its power..."

Tristan paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Is enough to blow a three-masted ship to smithereens."

"Excellent."

Velin opened the all-hands channel.

"This is Velin Klein."

High in the sky, the circling Knights fell silent, with only the cries of the Big Thief Gulls echoing in the air.

"You are the Earl’s Domain’s first air force. And you are the first air force in this world to possess real-time communication."

"Hector thought that by blockading the sea, he could trap us on land. He thought that with the Black Stone Mountain Range to protect him, he could rest easy."

"Today, we are going to show him that times have changed."

"From now on, your unit designation is ’Stuka.’"

Velin raised his hand, pointing to the distant north—the direction of Hector’s territory.

"Now, go deliver a warm gift to our old friend."

"Target: Black Stone Port. Mission: Bombardment."