Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Page 121

"Ouch!" The dagger almost hit Tristan in the cockpit, striking him in the groin.

"Looks like I can't get close to this guy, I need to slow down."

Gino quickly accelerated to increase the distance, and then made a sharp turn in front of the enemy planes that had not yet arrived—it could have been a smaller radius, but unfortunately several more planes came close, and Tristan had no shields, so he could only rely on dodging.

This is troublesome. After dodging these few, several others stubbornly engaged him head-on in gunfire. After so much fighting in the sky, his scythes were worn down. He increased his speed so much, wasting too much time on the excessively long arc, resulting in the silver dove hitting him right in the face with a smaller radius, almost getting shot again.

"Ugh! So annoying!" Gino simply sheathed his scythe, unleashed the grappling hooks on both arms, and then, bracing himself against the oncoming fighter jets, transformed into a windmill, spinning forward on his own axis while swaying back and forth. As if this desperate gamble had brought him good fortune, the bullets evaded him, and the fighter jets either dodged or crashed into the grappling hooks or steel cables, allowing him to escape the web of fire.

"Tch, looks like we have to win by speed, huh? Let's bring it on!"

After muttering to himself, Gino immediately slammed his aircraft towards the ground, leaving the other planes behind him behind as he charged forward. Then, in Kozhedub and the others' eyes, the doll began to slowly disintegrate and crumble—and then, it transformed into an aircraft identical to theirs?!

"So, who should we choose to race?"

Gino had an idea. He stopped pursuing Silver Dove and didn't want to risk further exhaustion by fighting his way in and out seven times, even though Tristan in his fighter jet form had an overwhelming speed advantage. He began to have his aircraft constantly hover around the enemy's perimeter, with the birds adorned with red stars following him. Almost no one could catch him.

Koridub could only watch helplessly as he witnessed this scene.

"What's this guy trying to do, neither fighting nor retreating?"

Tristan drew circle after circle around the group of planes. What other options did the pilots have besides running after him? There were, but most of those who had the chance to take shortcuts and predict its flight path were slowly wasting away and depleting the remaining machine gun ammunition in the cockpit during the monster's agile and unpredictable longitudinal maneuvers.

"Could it be that reinforcements are coming?" Koridub looked around at the sky, but there was nothing unusual. Could it be that this guy was possessed by the spirit of a millstone grinder, trying to grind himself to death by spinning around in circles?

……

"Hmm, looks like there's a chance!"

Little did they know, the fighter jets' prolonged lingering and hesitation in this not-so-wide airspace played right into Gino's hands. Then, just when the Soviet pilots thought he was about to circle again, he suddenly flew straight away from there?

"Huh? Catch up with it!" Kozhedub's radio was filled with the roars of his teammates, but he had a nagging feeling that things weren't so simple. This speed was almost twice that of his own aircraft; theoretically, he was fully capable of slowly retaliating and wearing down his comrades one by one. Could it be...?

Just as the major was about to say something, Tristan immediately braked in the distant sky, slowly came to a stop, and transformed back into human form once again.

But what is the purpose of hovering?

The two grappling hooks on both hands were released, entangled in the air for a moment, and then the energy cannons installed in the grappling hooks merged into one, aiming at the densely packed fighter jets that were coming.

"Too bad, I'm going to give you a zero this time!"

……

"Scatter! Comrades!"

No sooner had the shout been uttered than a beam of light pierced the sky and spread out beneath the clouds, sweeping away everything in its path like a drilling rig breaking through a wall. Behind the departing fighter jets, a few comrades who were a beat too slow to react were blown to pieces into fiery clouds.

"Hmm, wait a minute? Where's Silver Pigeon?" Looking at the planes scattering away, Gino noticed that a figure had disappeared—and it wasn't in the sequence of targets being fired upon.

This time, it was Kozhedub's turn to give him the final challenge—the major, who had narrowly escaped death, pulled his machine under the pillar of light, close to the destructive shockwave and the blinding energy, and used all the power of his machine to quickly approach the arrogant puppet!

If he tried to get close from the side, he would definitely be discovered. He couldn't guarantee that the blue and white target's "spotlight" wouldn't sweep around randomly like that red tornado. So, without anyone noticing, he got closer and closer to the monster!

"Hey! This is bad!" The silver dove's figure grew larger and larger as it flew closer, and the light beam could no longer cover it. Gino panicked a little, wondering what to do with his energy cannon.

Just as he tried to pull down, Kozhedub also took a short dive and immediately looked up, unleashing all the bullets from his machine gun toward the doll!

"Cough!" Gino realized this was not working and was retreating when, just as he was about to stop the beam of light, an unexpected incident occurred!

……

"Comrade Koridub!"

The Soviet pilots were astonished to find that the beam of light emanating from the giant was miraculously caught by the ammunition belt of the Schvacker cannon, and then suddenly turned into a fireball in a deafening explosion, engulfing the major's plane along with the giant!

The doll quickly fell to the ground, but the major's plane had disappeared!

"Comrade! Major! Can you hear us?"

Gradually, the fireball dissipated, and the gray-white La-7 fighter jet became clearer—it was complete, but also terrifying.

The plane was billowing black smoke, yet it still managed to fly shakily. After correcting its wings twice, it slowly began to descend, heading towards the doll, once again suicidally diving.

……

Meanwhile, in Tristan's cockpit, Gino hurriedly managed to correct the aircraft's position, turning it upside down and finally pulling it out of control.

"Cough... This is bad..."

The flight wing was generating power slowly and couldn't continue soaring, but the silver dove slowly approached it, dragging its wreckage from the explosion and its violently trembling fuselage, following behind it without leaving, but without firing either.

Gino didn't have time to think about anything else. Tristan's system was barely functioning, so he had to quickly escape. Despite the fighter jets diving down one after another, he could still move gracefully, but his proud transformation system had failed...

"Secretary Wienberg! How are you!"

On the retreat, several Gloucesters came to meet them. They didn't stop firing their machine guns, drove away the fighters, surrounded Tristan, and retreated towards Berlin.

"Sir, are you injured?"

"Oh, no, no, you just need to take me away."

"Um, you might not know this..."

Because of a computer malfunction preventing him from seeing the data, Gino wasn't fully aware of the terrible damage the previous explosion had inflicted on his mech—Tristan's torso was riddled with dents, one forearm was missing, a large piece of steel was embedded in his neck, and the retracted foot drive wheels dangled like pendulums from his ankles. As for the grappling hook, it had vanished in the explosion, leaving only two steel cables swaying in the wind like willow catkins.

He sat quietly in the cockpit, catching his breath for a long time, before he came to his senses.

"Ah...is that so...it seems Silver Dove is quite an interesting opponent...I really look forward to the next duel, when we can face each other like good friends."

……

Before retreating, Gino took one last look at the silver dove—it hadn't quite broken free of its dive and was still falling.

……

Finally, the grayish-white figure stained with black blood, after a stiff and erratic dance, landed on the ground at a slow pace, rubbing and rubbing, until it stopped in front of a large rock.

Many people escaped from the trucks that were used as bait.

"Comrade! How are you, comrade!"

Just as they approached, the cockpit door was pushed open, and that familiar and glorious face twitched a few times before turning around and throwing out a bloodstained piece of metal.

"Call medical staff, quickly... that's all..."

Kozhedub limped to his feet from the cockpit, reaching out with the hand he had just used to pluck sheet metal from his thigh to touch the three gold stars painted on the outside of the fighter jet's cockpit. His fingers brushed across the fuselage, blood dripping from his fingertips, staining the gold stars with his red handprint, blending them with the smaller stars representing the number of enemy aircraft shot down.

"Sit down, Major! This is bad for your injuries!"

“No, comrade…” he pointed tremblingly at Venus, “Look at it, look at it, this is my responsibility… For the sake of our motherland, I must do this… as always…”

Chapter 127, Section 189: The Blood and Tears of a Rising Star, Buried in Berlin

"Reporting to command center, we are escorting Tristan and Modred back to the center of Berlin. The former's injuries are more serious. Over."

"Roger that, Lieutenant Angelie Vorian! Upload Tristan's current status map immediately. Over!"

"As ordered."

While everyone was busy, Lilizia's black plane flew ahead of Tristan, flying in the opposite direction to examine the knight's ravaged state.

"So even the Knights of the Round Table can't guarantee they can stand alone?"

"Your name is Lütjens, isn't it?" Huh? Strange, the knight actually remembered her name.

“Ah? Yes, Sergeant Lilizia Lütjens, that is me.”

"You showed great courage and bravery in dispersing enemy planes during the retreat. You must be a pretty outstanding girl, right?"

"Me? Excellent?"

"Never mind all that, thanks anyway! Keep going like this and always become an excellent knight!"

"Your Excellency... I..." Lilizia was both excited and flustered, completely unsure how to accept such praise.

"Hurry up and accept it, Lily!" Ypel added fuel to the fire. "We should cheer each other on, shouldn't we? Smile!"

……

The sky quieted down, the sunlight dimmed, and they finally reached the edge of Berlin.

However, at that very moment, a group of warplanes that had been wreaking havoc over Berlin flew past and disappeared into the distance...

"Lieutenant! Response confirmed!" Something was off with the radio transmission from command center. "Are the Knights of the Round Table safe?"

“Everything is normal.” Angelie could tell that the command center had just been hit by a bomb. “The enemy planes are not engaging us.”

"That's good! Just so you know, the central camp was just hit by an air raid, and the ground is a bit chaotic due to the handling of the dead and wounded. There's not much parking space available for you, so please pay close attention to the guidance beacon to avoid any accidents!"

"Yes!" After finishing the communication, Angelina said to the others who were with her.

"Huh? The center has been attacked?"

"Yes, what's wrong?" Angelie was puzzled as to why Ypel would ask her this so unusually.

“It’s nothing, but…” Ypel suddenly stopped speaking, “Someone is injured, why do I have a premonition…”

……

Let's rewind to about ten minutes ago.

"My God... Tristan's injuries are that serious?"

Duke Sassler and several generals gathered around to look at the photos that had been sent back, and their hearts sank.

"Has this war reached a point where even the Knights of the Round Table cannot turn the tide alone?" Lieutenant General Wood sighed. "If Lord Wienberg insists on launching a daytime attack next time, I'm afraid... he won't be able to explain himself to His Majesty the Emperor..."

“There won’t be a next time, for us.” The Duke shook his head. “They won’t stay in District 45 for much longer. The time required to repair and restore this damage will be at least longer than the time it takes for them to return to the Tokyo Concession.”

"Does this mean we still have to fight tooth and nail on our own?"

"But don't worry, everyone. We will soon send two more army groups over. If we can hold out for two more days, we can launch a preemptive strike. The Soviet army has now stopped about 20 kilometers east of Berlin. They can't break our defenses, so it will be our turn to send fresh troops to take the lead."

“Well, forgive my bluntness, sir,” General Malen disagreed. “According to the results of my subordinates’ discussions, the morale of the Black Prince’s Army and the Edward III’s Army has been significantly damaged during the recent defensive battles of the salient, and the Soviet offensive momentum should not be underestimated. Therefore, I suggest that we should not launch a rash attack after the arrival of the 31st and 33rd Armies, but continue to hold our ground.”

Instantly, the discussions in the command center descended into chaos. Some boldly began planning counterattack routes, while others continued to voice their opposition...

Just then, the Duke noticed a lieutenant colonel who should have been involved sitting far away to the side—Eddie Hill, a lieutenant colonel under Marendor. He didn't even glance at them, but instead lowered his head to drink from the flask, looking completely indifferent.

Seeing that the argument was fruitless, he put the wine pot back on the table and went out.

……

"Enough, enough..." The Duke had no choice but to forcefully quell the situation. "Listen up, everyone. I understand your desire to hold your ground cautiously, but please don't be overly pessimistic about the war. In that case, I will decide whether we are capable of launching an offensive after the two newly arrived army commanders report on the status of their troops. Let's leave this matter here for now."

Helpless, the crowd dispersed, but just then, a shout burst in.

"Air raid!—"

……

A few pebbles were shaken off the Capitol and the ground in front of it by a clap of thunder, leaving some to soil the Duke's clothes.

"Is anyone hurt?"

The people inside were stammering, but it seemed nothing serious had happened.

"Generals!" a sergeant rushed in. "Um, the casualties and damage to the camp from the air raid are quite severe. Enemy planes blew up an energy cube warehouse and burned down the whole area!"

"Just put out the fire and move the wounded quickly, and leave a quiet place for the returning KMFs..."

As the Duke spoke, he inadvertently glanced at Marendor—who was looking uneasily at the table and chairs where Eddie Hill had been sitting.

The lieutenant colonel once said that his flask had been lost in an air raid before the operation to parachute out of Berlin; the lid of the flask was blown off.

Now, the uncovered wine jug on the table seemed to have been knocked over by the bombing, and the liquid inside was gushing out, spilling all over the table and onto the floor...

"Oh no..." Under the astonished gazes of the crowd, Marendo hurriedly stepped out...

……

"The wounded! Where are the wounded?!"

The general rushed through the camp, desperately searching among the rows of burning sheds and bloodied bodies for that one unique child.

"Chainsaw! Chainsaw! And a few more blankets!"

Where is this sound coming from?

"Hey, Your Excellency!" Colonel Kari, who was accompanying him, didn't have time to call out to him before he saw the general take off running towards a collapsed barracks.

"This……"

The general froze. There was a pitiful child, his body a mixture of shrapnel from the explosion and blood from his torn uniform, looking as if he had been thrown into the air by the blast wave...