Chapter 416 - 398: Extreme Overload

Chapter 416: Chapter 398: Extreme Overload

The wind, on a normal day, would carry the pleasant smell of sea salt and fish. But today, the air here was as dry as a piece of salt-cured meat left under the sun for three days.

Ola lay prone on Stuka’s broad back, looking down at the city below through the tactical interface of the [Hive-Terminal].

Iron Bay Port.

The second-largest trade hub in Hector’s territory, its throughput second only to the now-ruined Black Stone Port.

[Altitude four thousand, wind speed thirty, southerly.]

Ola gave the order over the public channel.

[Maintain silence. Prepare to drop bombs.]

The bomber corps glided silently through the clouds, like shadows cast by death itself.

’Too quiet.’

Ola stared at the docks below, which were still bustling with activity.

No alarms, no panicked crowds, not even the signature pale-gold Magic shield had been raised.

The entire city was like a naked woman lying defenseless by the sea.

’Shorty, something’s not right.’

Stuka’s voice echoed in his mind, carrying a trace of an animal’s unique wariness.

’The air down there smells wrong. It stinks—all rust.’

’Shut up and fly.’

Though Ola’s words were harsh, his hand subconsciously tightened on the reins.

’That madman Hector suffered such a huge loss at Black Stone Port; there’s no way he wouldn’t have learned his lesson.’

But the arrow was already nocked.

The Alchemy Bombs on the racks were already armed.

"First Squadron, commence test drop."

Ola commanded.

"Target, Cargo Dock Three."

Twenty Big Thief Gulls banked slightly, and their racks released.

Twenty black iron canisters whistled as they fell.

Ola’s eyes were fixed on the tiny black dots plummeting downward.

Three thousand meters.

Two thousand meters.

One thousand meters.

Ola stared down, anticipating the chaos that would ensue.

But the ground was terrifyingly still.

On the docks, which should have been piled with cargo, there were no panicked crowds running for cover. The waterproof tarps covering the goods hadn’t moved an inch. Not even an air-raid siren had sounded.

This extreme composure sent a chill down Ola’s spine.

The counterattack came from the shadows of buildings and the gaps between warehouses, blind spots in Ola’s field of vision.

SHHH—

Only twenty streaks of eerie blue Arcane Magic light, like the flicking tongues of vipers in the dark, rose silently into the air.

They traced bizarre spiral trajectories in the sky, as if alive, circling up to bite at the falling black dots.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The bombs didn’t even reach the lower altitudes.

Ten of the Alchemy Bombs were "called out" by these twenty streaks of Magic and detonated mid-air, a thousand meters above the ground.

A violent burst of fire erupted high in the sky, looking like a grand fireworks display. The shockwave raged and dissipated at high altitude, doing nothing more than scattering a few clouds, not even kicking up a single speck of dust from the ground.

"Fuck!"

Ola slammed his fist on the saddle.

"All units, pull up! Pull up!"

Too late.

As the light from the explosions faded, the massive cargo containers used as camouflage around the docks shattered.

Revealing their ferocious fangs.

They were heavy Dragon-Hunting Crossbows.

Each Crossbow Arrow was as thick as a child’s arm, its head a spiral designed for armor piercing, and coated in a black oil that suppressed Magic Power.

TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!

The vibrating of bowstrings merged into a low, thunderous clap.

It was the roar of death.

"Evasive maneuvers! Now!"

Stuka let out a piercing shriek, folding his massive wings and rolling sideways like a stone.

WHOOSH—

A massive Crossbow Arrow grazed past Stuka’s belly, the slipstream it created even shearing off a few white feathers.

But the other Knights were not so lucky.

Pained grunts and ragged breaths crackled through the [Hive-Terminal].

[Seven is hit! Dammit, my leg’s been pierced through!]

[Sixty-one’s mount has taken a hit to the abdomen! Bleeding out, losing power!]

[Requesting return to base! I repeat, requesting return to base! We can’t hold on...]

Ola clenched his jaw.

[Permission to return granted! Disengage immediately! Don’t you dare die on the way back!]

Then Ola looked down, his eyes filled with fury.

[You bastards!]

He roared, his reason nearly incinerated by rage.

[Lower altitude! Skim the sea and charge! Let’s see if their crossbows can hit their own people!]

[Roger!]

The Stuka Corps began to dive.

Once they reached low altitude, the cumbersome Dragon-Hunting Crossbows would lose their firing angles.

But Hector had clearly anticipated their move.

Just as the flock was about to sweep past the breakwater.

A line of Mages in blue robes stood up on the dam.

They didn’t attack, but simply raised their Magic Staffs in unison.

The seawater began to boil.

A wall of water tens of meters high rose from nowhere, like a giant hand swatting at the low-flying flock.

At the same time, Wind Element Mages, who had long been lying in ambush on the rooftops, cast their Magic in concert.

A violent airflow formed a massive zone of turbulence above the port.

The incendiary bombs they dropped were doused by the water wall before they could even land.

The moment the poison gas canisters burst, the toxic smoke was scattered by the fierce winds, some of it even blowing back at them.

This couldn’t be called a battle; it was a condescending game.

Hector had armed the city like a coiled beast, its entire body covered in menacing barbs.

The water curtain devoured the flames, gales tore apart the poison smoke, giant crossbows sealed the skies, and the Array intercepted destruction. Hector gave Ola no opening whatsoever.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"

Ola looked at his fruitless attacks and the constantly flashing red alerts on his tactical interface.

’Is this the true power of an old noble house?’