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As the final preparations were completed, the flight group slowly began to take off one by one, while civilian aircraft and airships were also taking off from the buildings beside them.
Normally, a vital air assault on an important target would be equipped with numerous decoy aircraft to create false signals or shield against enemy fire at critical moments. However, given the current conditions, they could only make do with civilian planes.
Naturally, there was no time to retrofit these civilian planes with automation kits.
Over twenty experienced fanatic pilots were chosen to fly these civilian aircraft, and their cockpits were packed with melta charges to ensure that even if a single Macro Cannon shell struck, it would turn the entire aircraft into molten steel.
Before long, the vertical takeoff aircraft were all in the air.
Due to the current electromagnetic interference, there was no need to worry about anti-air radar locks; instead, they had to avoid the anti-aircraft guns that could engage in visual shooting. Hence, each aircraft in formation ascended to higher altitudes.
When the designated time arrived, the flight group surged toward the Chaos ship.
After flying for a short distance, despite the darkness returning after the light from the sphere had faded, the massive noise generated by such a large group of aircraft could not be concealed. It wasn't long before enemy intercepting fire rained down.
From below, in the still-fallen districts, deadly chains of bright light were hurled into the sky.
Each long chain consisted of numerous anti-aircraft shells.
Those two flares, which seemed quite dense, were actually interleaved with four or five ordinary, non-flaring shells.
The rate of fire from the anti-aircraft guns could exceed a thousand or even several thousand rounds per minute; even with the thick armor of a Valkyrie, they wouldn't last long if struck.
However, that was predicated on hitting the targets, and engaging aerial targets at night using visual means was inherently difficult, even more so as the aircraft were constantly maneuvering. The vast majority of shells failed to hit their intended targets.
Of course, the enemy was aware of this fact.
The shells did not need to strike the enemy aircraft directly. They would detonate mid-air.
As their shells were ripped apart by internal explosions, countless fragments would scatter in all directions, forming a Flak Storm. While the shards from a single shell might not be significant, a single chain could unleash dozens of such shells every second.
The explosions produced thick black smoke and flames, creating uneven curtains of obfuscation that, under the further adjustments of the anti-air gunners below, began to approach the altitude of the aircraft.
Suddenly, two bright blue afterburners appeared in the night sky, extending gradually and blindingly.
For some unknown reason, one Valkyrie suddenly engaged its afterburners, with shock diamonds appearing in the exhaust plumes.
Within the blossoming anti-air net, it abruptly detached from its formation, lowering its altitude as it dove downward.
In mere seconds, propelled by its afterburners, its speed reached well beyond that of a typical Valkyrie, and it continued to accelerate.
When it pierced through those clouds of black smoke, the aircraft shot across a tempest of shell fragments in an instant before stabbing downward toward the ground without losing any speed.
All attempts to contact this particular aircraft were met with silence—a dead drop, including from the pilot herself.
As seasoned pilots, they could certainly tell something was wrong; they sensed an issue from the moment they took off.
Yet, despite the screens and instruments displaying seemingly normal readings, they did not respond to any inputs. There was no way to communicate this unexpected situation outward.
Furthermore, it wasn't just the controls that were unresponsive; even the safety locks on the self-defense weapons next to the cockpit were jammed, leaving them unable to break a window. They could only watch helplessly as the craft bizarrely launched itself, mingled into the formation, and began to surge downward.
It dove straight toward the ground, appearing as though it was going to crash directly. However, upon entering the maze of buildings and reaching the streets, it suddenly leveled off and executed an impossibly agile maneuver.
The aircraft's tail nearly touched the ground, and the hot exhaust swept along the pavement, completely halting its descent just before it hit. Then, like an arrow, it rocketed forward, barely a meter above ground level as it zoomed down the street.
The powerful airflow created by its supersonic speed sent heaps of dust and debris flying to the sides, and the sonic boom that followed hit the ears of those watching like a train rolling past.
In a situation where it should have lost all avionics, pulling off a maneuver like this—flying at multiple times the speed of sound through an obstacle-ridden combat zone—seemed straight out of a storybook, but it was happening in reality at that moment.
At the far end of the street, two adjacent Chaos-corrupted Leman Russ tanks caught sight of the rapidly expanding object in the distance.
The drivers of the tanks stared in disbelief at what was unfolding, their minds struggling to comprehend the situation, wondering if they were hallucinating:
Was that a Valkyrie?
But there was no time for them to respond; the aircraft was moving far too quickly.
Without specialized modifications, the limits of human reaction speed would make anything even resembling the capabilities of top-tier racing cars—operational speeds of five to six hundred kilometers per hour—seem impossibly fast.
Yet the Valkyrie was traveling at over ten times that speed.
What looked to be a distance of two or three thousand meters was crossed in mere seconds, and by the time the two Leman Russ tanks recognized the object truly was a warplane, it was already too late.
In that split second, time seemed to slow. The Valkyrie made no attempt to evade, and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, it slightly raised its altitude and tilted its fuselage.
The wingtips brushed the ground as it sliced between the two Leman Russ tanks, the Imperial Aquila on its surface seeming to mock the slow reaction of its armored foes.
All considerations of lift aerodynamics or air resistance turned to nothing under the force of the accelerating aircraft; roaring engines and the blast from its afterburners rumbled destructively against everything in its path.
As its speed continually increased, it left its comrades far behind and advanced boldly toward the wreckage of the Chaos Escort Ship.
Zhang Ge's focus zeroed in on that ship.
Although it had endured the shocks of falling and the explosions from the electromagnetic pulse, it was still a space warship, constructed with formidable defenses. The remaining sections of its anti-airfire still operated normally, unaffected by interference. This was the most dangerous part they needed to breach in their plan.
These massive warships could stretch for kilometers, bristling with anti-aircraft weaponry, from sizable Macro Cannons to various anti-air missiles, and equipped with rapid-firing Gatling AA Guns capable of firing tens of thousands of rounds a minute.
Due to the obstructions created by the towering buildings surrounding where they had fallen, they had been unable to contribute to the overall defensive network. But should any enemy attempt to break through their close-range defenses, those anti-aircraft emplacements would serve as lethal strike weapons.
Even with the use of decoy aircraft to draw fire, the squads were prepared for major casualties.
However, now, that lone aircraft was charging straight into this kill zone without any attempt to evade.
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