Munitions Empire

As squadrons of Tang Army Butcher Fighter Jets swooped down from the higher skies, the pilots of Dahua finally realized the disparity in combat capabilities between the two sides.

Before, they could barely hold their own with numbers, but now, they discovered that the enemy's numbers had completely surpassed their estimates.

Although they all felt that the Tang Army would definitely deploy heavy troops at the southern oil fields to defend against the surprise attacks from the Dahua Air Force,

they really never expected to encounter over 50 Butcher Fighter Jets here.

In fact, they were wrong because this time, a whole 70 Butcher Fighter Jets joined the battle. They were divided into two groups, slashing into the battle circle from the left and right in different directions.

When the first batch of 50 intercepting Butcher Fighter Jets began their dive attacks, the entire formation of Dahua aircraft started to fall into disarray.

The demoralized pilots of Dahua were all looking and waiting... They wanted to find a reason to immediately return to base.

Because they had no radio communication equipment, they were unable to listen to the Commanders' orders in time. They didn't know whether they should abort the mission or stubbornly head towards the target they were doomed not to reach.

"Damn it, did you see the signal to return to base? Look to the left! The pilot of the bomber on the left!" Amidst the chaos, the pilot turned back to ask the machine gunner sitting behind him.

The machine gunner looked blankly to his left, trying to find the pilot who could convey the orders, but all he saw was a pilot on a bomber, looking off into a more distant place.

It was already difficult enough to use hand signals and shouting to pass messages in a sky with no enemies.

With enemy aircraft brazenly charging through the sky, who could accurately relay messages? Everyone was desperately fighting, and it was clear that their eyes were too busy to keep up.

"I didn't see anything! There are too many planes over there!" The machine gunner turned back and shouted loudly to the pilot in front of him.

During his shouting, a Butcher Fighter Jet with a bright yellow nose whooshed over the distant bomber, startling everyone into involuntarily flinching.

At an altitude of 4,000 meters, the Tang Army's Fighter Jets could reach speeds over 500 kilometers per hour by diving, which was too fast for Dahua's pilots. They had barely reacted before they were shredded by cannon fire from the Butcher Fighter Jets.

Inside the cramped cockpit of the Butcher Fighter Jet, a young pilot gripped the control stick with both hands, weaving through gaps between enemy planes, with scenery whipping past on both sides.

He had just shaken off a Dahua Fighter Jet that was trying to keep up with him, and now he had ample time to hunt down his target.

Within the gunsight before him, the terrified expression of a Dahua bomber pilot was clearly visible.

The distance rapidly closed in, and he pulled the trigger—a string of Tracer Bullets shot out in a straight line towards the bomber, and then crashed into the aircraft's nose, destroying everything there.

The Dahua machine gunner operating the front guns was flung out by the cannon fire, and the fragile nose disintegrated in the Butcher Fighter Jet's gunsight. The entire bomber lost control and plummeted downwards, trailing long black smoke to the ground.

Gently banking the control stick to the right, the Butcher Fighter Jet he was piloting elegantly dodged the oncoming bullets and passed shoulder to shoulder with an incoming Dahua Model 1 Fighter Jet.

On the tail of his Butcher Fighter Jet were fifteen white silhouettes of planes, representing the total of 15 enemy planes he had already shot down, proving that this young man was indeed a true ace pilot.

Tang Country's requirements for ace pilots were actually quite high; one needed to shoot down 10 enemy planes to qualify as an ace, and only by shooting down more than 100 could one qualify as a super ace.

Many people were striving to become a super ace, and the young Wang Hai was doing the same. He was only 19 years old this year, but he had already been flying Fighter Jets for over two years.

Previously in the Central Region, he had shot down 15 enemy planes with the air combat theories he had developed, becoming the star of his Troops. Then he was selected and transferred to the southern oil fields to intercept the Dahua Air Force.

Today, he was determined to push his tally to over 20 because he knew that after today, it would be very difficult for the Dahua Empire's Air Force to muster the courage for such a large-scale deployment again.

This was an opportunity, a rare opportunity!

After a roll to extend the gap from the enemy plane, Wang Hai contacted his wingman, "I'm climbing to regain altitude! Watch my back, and if any enemy plane bites at me, let me know immediately."

"Understood!" came the instant reply through the headset. Another Butcher Fighter Jet with a distinct identification color on its nose closely followed Wang Hai, and the two planes, one after another, skimmed past the edge of the Dahua Air Force's formation, quickly climbing toward 5,000 meters.

Two Dahua Model 1 Fighter Jets followed them, and although they weren't fast, they still tenaciously chased the tail of the Butcher Fighter Jets.

After all, they were the elite pilots of the Dahua Empire, piloting fairly capable fighter jets, and they still wanted to prove themselves in this chaotic battle.

"We've got someone on our tail!" the wingman pilot warned Wang Hai, who was flying ahead, "They're holding on tight!"

"I'm turning! Covering you! Pay attention to safety!" Wang Hai began to turn his aircraft, drawing a large circle in the sky.

He increased the thrust of the plane's engines, the roar pleasant yet powerful. Accompanied by the disturbance of the airflow, the Butcher Fighter's fuselage began to vibrate gently.

The distant sky and earth seemed to have swapped places, Wang Hai's nose drawing a large circle and ultimately re-aiming towards the heavens.

"Two of them! I can see their positions now! They're still behind you! Watch your six!" Although young, this pilot from the original lands of Zheng Country had quite some savvy experience. Wang Hai instructed his wingman to continue luring the enemy while he quickly cut back into the battlefield.

"I've got my sights on them! They can't escape now!" Instead of tailing the enemy plane, the youthful Wang Hai opted for a more efficient and skillful flanking attack.

This required him to calculate precisely the lead time for firing, but it indeed gave him more opportunities to open fire.

The very next second, he pulled the trigger. The 20mm caliber guns on the wings of his aircraft fired in short bursts. Several tracer bullets drew a straight line towards the last Dahua fighter jet.

The brilliance of the tracer bullets penetrated the body of the enemy aircraft, and then the Dahua Type-1 fighter jet's engine began to emit thick smoke. While climbing, the entire aircraft suddenly fragmented, turning into a blaze of exploding flames.

This was Wang Hai's tactic; he preferred to attack the last enemy aircraft first since the ones flying ahead wouldn't know what was happening and wouldn't react.

Sure enough, the Dahua fighter jet that had no idea there was danger approaching its flank continued to climb, doggedly pursuing Wang Hai's wingman.

Wang Hai was in no hurry. Utilizing his speed advantage, he adjusted his course, continuing to aim his nose at the still oblivious target at a distance.

"Steady... steady..." he muttered softly, controlling his emotions. At the moment when he was about to pass by the opponent, he pulled the trigger, releasing a volley of cannon fire.

He saw with his own eyes his shells leaving a row of bullet holes in the enemy's fuselage, and then his jet surged past the enemy craft, leaving it behind.

The bullet holes extended from the enemy's nose and engine bay all the way back, piercing the cockpit as well as the root of the wings.

The canopy of the opponent's cockpit was shattered by the cannon fire, and Wang Hai even saw the pilot's blood splatter on the broken cockpit glass.

"I've taken him down! I've got him!" After confirming that the Dahua Type-1 fighter jet was disintegrating and falling, Wang Hai loudly reminded his wingman over the radio.

"Confirmed! You got him!" The wingman circled around half a turn, saw the wreckage of the enemy jet with its wings starting to break off, and said, "Congrats, that's your third today!"

"Not enough! I need to take down at least 10 more to be satisfied!" Wang Hai grinned, eager to fill his aircraft's tail with the markings of his victims.

"Then you better hurry back! Otherwise, Group 2 will have cleaned up those bombers," the wingman pilot joked.

"Right! You should take down three today as well! Then you'll be an ace pilot!" Wang Hai piloted his aircraft to climb, watching the altimeter gradually point towards the number 4700 meters.

"Sounds great!" The wingman was also interested in the topic, "But it seems someone doesn't want us to head back..."

He saw not far away, a five-plane formation moving towards them. That was the enemy's formation pattern; clearly, they were being targeted once again.

"Ha! Then let's shoot them down quickly!" Wang Hai continued to climb. Through the cockpit glass, he also spotted those troublesome enemies: "Cover me, strike and break off, take down the two on the left first! Shred their formation!"

"No problem! Following right behind you!" The wingman's voice reached Wang Hai's ears.

"After 5000 meters, level off! Get the speed up!" Wang Hai glanced at the altimeter and again pinpointed the enemy's location.

"5000 meters!" The wingman confirmed the altitude. The two Butcher Fighter jets were highly manoeuvrable at this altitude, one ahead, one behind, one high, one low, racing towards the oncoming enemies at great speed.

And those Dahua fighter jets were also zooming towards the two Tang Army aircraft in front.

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