Air Force!
There was a time when it was treated as an adjunct to other branches, like Army Aviation or Naval Aviation, looked down upon.
But having lived in an era where air superiority determined the outcome of wars, I fully understand just how advantageous it is strategically and tactically to dominate the skies.
Just take the recapture of Maniopol, for instance. No matter how well fortified or intricately defended it was…
It was helpless against the Enok fire support ship floating serenely above, pouring down bombardments from its three 57mm howitzers — firepower that barely qualifies as artillery.
Still, the question remains whether mere aerial dominance can break the enemy’s will.
War is inherently unpredictable. The moment you think, “This seems doable; we can take it easy,” disaster strikes.
That was the case with Nazi Germany in alternate history, the U.S. in Somalia, and most recently, Russia, the world’s second-largest military power.
Even lions must give their all when catching rabbits.
And we weren’t lions, nor were our enemies rabbits. Trying to capture a snake with a fox requires not just your best effort but a life-or-d*ath commitment.
“Two ironclads of the Azoff National Liberation Front are going to be captured?”
“Yes. And then we’ll use those two ships to blockade the coast.”
“Coastal blockade? How does that relate to retaking Fort Morok?”
Have you heard of the ‘Starvation’ operation?
The issues tied to retaking Fort Morok were twofold:
First, the enemy’s defense is too thick.
Second, there are still quite a few civilians left in Fort Morok.
“The port of Fort Morok is very narrow. It wasn’t even conducive to landing operations. According to testimony from the coast guard who were defending the city at the time, Azoff occupied the port by dispersing personnel on small merchant ships.”
That’s why more civilians managed to escape. Because the landing was relatively late and slow, the number of evacuees was higher than in Maniopol.
“Therefore, even if we proceed with the landing with the help of the remaining navy, there will undoubtedly be significant difficulties.”
And this point was surely understood by the generals before him. Especially since the Southern Corps of Okhraine’s army was considered one of the better units, capable of at least some self-assessment.
“So, are we not proceeding with the landing at all?”
“No, that’s not the case. Immediately after capturing the ironclads, a coastal blockade will be imposed simultaneously, and our Special Response Brigade will be deployed on the eastern coast of Fort Morok.”
Here’s how the operation would work:
With the help of Diabolus and the western fleet of the Okhraine Navy, the Special Response Brigade will land on the east side of the city and establish a defensive line.
Again, it’s about establishing a defensive line.
While landing and securing a certain area, we will completely switch to a defensive stance to preserve our forces while effectively sealing off one side of Fort Morok.
“The supplies they can plunder are limited. By blockading the eastern port and using the two captured ironclads to seal the sea routes of the western port, the enemy forces landed in Fort Morok will be completely isolated.”
The starvation operation is nothing else.
A strategy that controls supply lines, preventing both entry and exit.
As time passes, the choices for the Azoff National Liberation Front, whose food supplies gradually diminish, will ultimately boil down to either an all-out final battle or unconditional surrender.
Moreover, under these circumstances, we might also rescue the citizens held hostage by the Azoff forces due to the limited food supply.
“Indeed, with this operation, we can minimize friendly casualties while forcing continuous bleeding on the enemy.”
Another division commander, who had been quietly listening to my words, spoke towards General Georg.
“Even though the recapture of Fort Morok makes sense, how do you explain the assault on the island mentioned earlier by the captain?”
“The assault is simple. There are many restrictions on immediately advancing to the Azoff Islands right now. Meanwhile, there are countless preparations to be made.”
The moment we capture the ironclads, control over this coastal area will essentially revert to Okhraine.
While the forces in Fort Morok are starving, the headquarters of the Liberation Front on the islands will have no way of knowing the situation and will continue sending reinforcements and supplies.
We will use the ironclads and the Enok fire support ship to sink any approaching Azoff ships, which alone will be sufficient to expand our achievements.
“While being unaware of what’s happening on land, Azoff will face fierce counterattacks from the Okhraine military.”
For decades, the island has been a thorn in the side of the principality, but this time it will finally come entirely under Okhraine’s control.
“We will secure a victory recorded in history.”
The goddess of fate was already smiling toward Okhraine.
Exactly four days after the re-capture of Maniopol.
At the time when a bright full moon rose, the members of the 8th Aerial Mage Infantry Combat Unit gathered once again.
“Sergeant Rick Hanson, are you feeling alright?”
“I’m not just fine—I’m dying to get back into action. My body’s screaming for me to start shooting.”
“You’ll end up getting dragged to the Third Platoon if you keep saying that.”
The soldiers burst into laughter as Rick Hanson, his arm bandaged, returned.
“One of my buddies is in the Third Platoon, and he says the First Platoon is absolutely insane—because of that berserker lieutenant.”
“Aah.”
Hilton Callia, usually cautious but turning into a raging warrior during combat, had gained notoriety throughout the unit.
After all, it was her platoon that broke through the three layers of defenses set up during the Maniopol recapture and reached the city hall first.
Not a single casualty.
It was almost suspicious, as if the Goddess of Battle herself was watching over them.
Of course, Rick Hanson hadn’t suffered serious injuries either. He had nearly died as a reconnaissance squad leader, but since he survived, it was all good.
Most of his reconnaissance team were unharmed except for two who sustained gunshot wounds—a stroke of great fortune.
“By the way, Sergeant Rick, I’ve been hearing some strange rumors lately.”
“What kind of rumor?”
“That every night, a beautiful woman with red hair comes to visit…”
Before the soldier could finish, Rick hastily clamped his hand over the man’s mouth and snapped to attention. Fortunately, Lieutenant Joseph and Captain Enok arrived just in time.
“My comrades.”
Under the moonlit garrison grounds, Commander Enok addressed the assembled troops. Though technically not the battalion commander, everyone listened intently because he effectively held that role.
“Did you enjoy the four-day rest?”
“Yes─!!”
“Now it’s time to get back to work.”
Those were the simple words.
Firing guns, taking lives, and achieving victory in battle had become something akin to ‘work’ for the members of the 8th Aerial Mage Infantry Combat Unit.
They had long become clerks of war.
When Commander Enok and Chief of Staff Joseph assigned tasks, the soldiers simply executed them to the best of their abilities from their respective positions.
And today’s assignment?
To seize the steel toys the Azoff forces were clinging onto.
5km offshore from the eastern port of Fort Morok.
Inside the Damascurd, one of the two ironclads possessed by the Azoff Navy, everything was quiet. It was 4:00 AM, deep into the night, and only the essential crew remained awake while the others slept.
In about two hours, dawn would break and activity would begin.
The officer on duty at the Damascurd’s bridge struggled desperately against the waves of sleepiness.
This was wartime, after all. If he were caught dozing off by the captain, he’d likely spend the entire day cleaning joints in the engine room.
Besides, the Western Fleet hadn’t been completely annihilated, and the 2nd Regiment, which had so confidently seized Maniopol, had been wiped out. Tensions couldn’t afford to ease, especially for someone on watch.
Of course, being tired was still being tired.
“Tch, the landlubbers seem to be having a blast, but what about us?”
“At least we didn’t land near Maniopol. Everyone who landed there is dead.”
His grumble was answered by another sailor working the shift.
Abdul Jabaddedehtan and Sahadin.
Their deaths, two of the most aggressive warriors advocating for the invasion of Okhraine, had sufficiently demoralized the Azoff army.
“That’s true…”
The Black Demons.
He had heard from an army friend during a brief stopover at Fort Morok for resupply.
But no matter how terrifying these Black Demons were, they had nothing to do with them aboard the Damascurd floating far out at sea.
How could those guys possibly reach the Damascurd without wings?
Even if they somehow did, the Damascurd was the ship that had cut through dozens of Okhraine’s Western Fleet vessels.
Any attempt to board with just a few ships would result in them being sunk before they even got close.
“Anyway, I’m going to check the deck. It’s patrol time.”
“Yeah, wake up the guys in the armory. They got caught sleeping in front of the captain yesterday and caused a commotion.”
“Roger.”
What a diligent soldier. Normally, it should have been his job, yet here he was volunteering to go out first.
Thanks to that, today’s watch would be fairly relaxing.
However, twenty minutes passed… thirty minutes passed… and the sailor did not return. How big could the ship be? It took only two minutes to run from bow to stern.
‘There’s no way it should take this long.’
If anything happened on deck, it would be entirely his responsibility as the officer on duty. Realizing this, cold sweat trickled down his spine.
“d*mn it, I better check…”
Just as he was about to stand up,
Creak.
The sound of the bridge door opening echoed.
“Hey, I was worried about you. Why are you so late?”
Had he gone somewhere to grab a midnight snack? If so, why hadn’t he brought his share?
But the person who entered wasn’t the sailor.
Black attire. The only visible feature was a pair of icy brass-colored eyes.
“Surprise.”
A violet flash crackled, and the officer’s head dropped to the floor with a thud.
