Chapter 411 - 394: Justice From Above 2

Chapter 411: Chapter 394: Justice From Above 2

...

At an altitude of six thousand meters.

This was the highest altitude Low Tier Transcendents could reach. The thin air and biting wind were harsh, but not deadly. Occasionally, a few lost migrating swans or a High Tier bird of prey patrolling its territory could be seen gliding through the clouds.

The Knights of the Stuka Corps lay prone on the backs of their birds. Relying on the formidable constitutions of Transcendents, they endured the low temperatures that would have frozen the blood of an ordinary person.

They buried themselves deep within the dense, tight feathers of the Big Thief Gulls. This thick, natural cold-weather coat allowed the aerial predators to feel little of the chill, and they maintained their high degree of alertness.

The Hivemind Terminal on the back of their necks flickered faintly, converting all surrounding information into a visual data stream.

Above their field of vision, several enormous green dots of light hovered.

Those were the "Kirovs."

A few modified King Insects, as massive as airborne battleships, floated silently in the stratosphere, ten thousand meters higher up.

That was a true dead zone for life, an absolute altitude that not even dragons dared to tread lightly. At this height, these modified King Insects had no natural predators. They had no wings, relying entirely on the massive gas bladders inside their bodies to float.

They were the brains of this air force.

"Engaging silent navigation mode," Ola ordered over the public channel. "Maintain cloud cover. Do not break through."

The entire formation moved like Ghosts through the depths of the cloud sea. To ensure the massive squadron did not lose its way in the vast white mist, two Knights acting as "navigator eyes" broke off from the main formation, gliding silently along the bottom edge of the clouds.

Through the link of the Hivemind Terminals, the view from their eyes was synchronized in real-time into every Knight’s mind.

It was as if the entire corps had grown a pair of eyes that could see through the clouds. Even shrouded in thick fog, they could still clearly see the churning sea below.

And if one were to look up from below, they would only see an endless stretch of white clouds, completely oblivious to the approaching danger.

Just as they approached to within fifty kilometers of Black Stone Port’s airspace.

BEEP—!

The vision of the two Knights responsible for low-altitude navigation suddenly sharpened, and several glaring red cursors popped up in everyone’s field of view.

"Reporting to Baron Ola, hostile targets detected!"

"Vision share synchronized."

"Bearing: due east. Altitude: three thousand five hundred meters. Quantity: five. Type: Griffin patrol."

Ola didn’t need to search through gaps in the clouds; he looked directly at the close-up image on his retina, zoomed in by the scout Knights.

In the image, five golden Griffins were flying in a loose, single-file formation, lazily patrolling their airspace.

The Griffin Knights wore heavy, wind-resistant leather armor and carried lances.

They weren’t looking up at all.

In the common knowledge of warfare in this world, threats always came from the ground or the sea. No one ever thought to guard against the clouds overhead—unless they held a dragon.

Ola could even see the lead Griffin Knight taking off his waterskin for a drink, still gesturing to his companion beside him.

That primitive, backward form of hand signals.

"Look at this bunch of blind men," Stuka mocked in his mind. "Are they gesturing with their hands? How primitively adorable."

Ola gave a vicious grin.

"All Knights, attention!"

He quickly marked the five red dots on the tactical map and assigned attack orders.

"Fang formation. In three seconds, cross-attack. Don’t give them a chance to sound the alarm!"

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

"Engage!"

The clouds churned.

Five Big Thief Gulls folded their wings, plunging vertically from the sky like five white meteorites.

The acceleration of gravity caused their speed to instantly break the sound barrier, but thanks to Stuka’s unique talent for controlling the Wind Element, the massive sonic boom was nullified.

The Griffin Knight below was still hanging his waterskin back on his belt.

He felt the wind above him seem to grow a little stronger and subconsciously looked up.

What met his eyes wasn’t the blue sky, but a pair of enormous, murderous golden pupils, and a pair of talons glinting with a cold light.

"What is th—"

CRUNCH!

The sound was cut short.

Stuka’s talons, propelled by the terrifying kinetic energy of the dive, crushed the Griffin Knight’s skull without the slightest pause, turning it and the steel helmet into scrap metal.

At the same time, the other four Big Thief Gulls had also completed their kills.

There was no dogfight.

No turn-based exchanges.

This was a one-sided slaughter.

Five headless corpses and their wailing Griffins plummeted toward the sea. Until the moment of their deaths, they hadn’t even managed to draw the Longswords at their waists, let alone blow the warning horns hanging on their chests.

"Cleanup complete."

Stuka shook the blood from its talons, spread its wings again, and rode an updraft back to the formation’s altitude.

"Too weak. Not even a warm-up."

Ola ignored his mount’s posturing.

He looked ahead.

The clouds parted.

Black Stone Port, the bustling harbor known as the "Golden Throat of the Northern Lands" and a vital transportation hub guarding the mouth of the Northern Territory’s largest river—the Angry River—was now laid bare beneath them.

Countless ships crowded the harbor, and mountains of cargo were piled on the docks. Giant cranes were busy loading and unloading goods. The streets were teeming with people, and merchant caravans formed long lines.

Just as expected, looking from afar, the port district’s military presence was light. Many positions meant for anti-air crossbows were unmanned—Hector had reassigned many of the port guards to warships to ensure the safety of the sea lanes.

Though the towering Magic Tower was shimmering with light, its detection Arrays were all focused on the sea, completely unaware of the threat from above.

It was like a steaming, shelled lobster served up on a platter.

Ola licked his chapped lips.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, making his whole body tremble.

It wasn’t fear.

It was the thrill of about to destroy something beautiful.

He took a deep breath and issued a message over the public channel.

"First and Second Squadrons, unlock pylon safeties."

CLICK.

A series of soft clicks sounded in unison.

"Targets: suspected warehouse district, and all active dock cranes."

Then, Ola gripped the reins and pointed down at the bustling port below.

"Time to deliver a gift to Marquis Hector."

"Bombs away!"

Barton yanked hard on the coarse hemp rope at his side.

The oak latch on the pylon sprang open.

A heavy, black iron canister broke free from its restraints, plummeting straight toward the bustling world below with a deathly whistle.

The fuse’s pull ring was ripped off by the rope.

The countdown began.

Five seconds.

Four seconds.

The foreman directing the movers on the dock seemed to hear something.

It was a sharp, piercing whistle coming from high above, growing louder and closer.

Puzzled, he stopped writing, raised his head, and looked toward the sky.

The sunlight was a bit dazzling.

He squinted and saw countless black dots rapidly growing larger.

"Is that... bird shit?"

This was the last thought that flashed through his mind.

The next second.

BOOM—!!!