Chapter 774: Landing on North Island!

Chapter 774: Landing on North Island!

On the turbulent sea, a majestic cruiser was cutting through the waves.

Its name was Laken, after the most ferocious sea beast in these waters.

When Shelter No. 70 built it, they equipped it with the most advanced anti-ship systems and surface fire-control radar, theoretically making it more than a match for the destroyers of the Northern Federation and the Southern Sea Alliance combined.

This would be a battle with no suspense—or rather, a one-sided slaughter!

The atmosphere in the bridge was tense; the radar operator stared unblinkingly at the screen.

The moment he saw the ripple appear on the screen, he shouted reflexively.

"Reef Rock has appeared!"

"The target is proceeding on its original course! Estimated five minutes until our radar detects it!"

For now, Reef Rock should still be in the dark, continuing to play its role as the seemingly harmless "bait."

Hearing the radar operator’s report, the captain of the Laken, Fu Hongyi, nodded.

The attack window was only five minutes.

But that time was enough—almost excessively long.

By the time Reef Rock realized that the ship coming to meet them was not the Flying Fish but the Laken, they wouldn’t even have a chance to pray before their anti-ship missiles sent them to the bottom to feed the fish.

Still, thinking that the target was a former comrade, Fu Hongyi’s feelings were complicated.

Seeing everyone looking at him, he spoke slowly.

"Can we contact them?"

The communications officer sitting at the terminal shook his head.

"No contact! They’ve entered radio silence as planned..."

Just as in the plan.

Though he had no real intention of contacting them, Fu Hongyi still sighed softly and ordered all combat units to prepare.

Seeing everything ready, the adjutant standing beside him hesitated.

After a moment of struggle, he asked in a low voice.

"Are we really... going to do this?"

The captain was silent for a while, then reached up and gently straightened his captain’s cap.

"The battlefield changes in an instant; hesitation leads to defeat... Sink it."

They had little time.

The Southern Sea Alliance’s ambush fleet was nearby; the Laken had to strike quickly and decisively, ideally hitting and then immediately changing course to rendezvous with the main force.

How ironic, he thought. The Southern Fleet was built to guard against the Legion, but so far they hadn’t even seen a shadow of the Legion—their only achievements had been at the expense of their own people.

This fleet might as well not exist.

Fu Hongyi smiled bitterly to himself.

Perhaps after cleaning up the mess at their doorstep, Mr. Charlas would let these fleets truly play a role.

At least somewhere else in the wasteland...

"Fire-control radar has locked onto the target!"

"‘Torrent’ anti-ship missiles are ready!"

"Safety off!"

"Launch preparations complete!"

A series of voices echoed through the bridge, but at that moment, an untimely sound suddenly rang out.

The operator at the sonar control terminal let out a startled cry.

"Sonar detects an unidentified object approaching!"

Fu Hongyi’s pupils contracted sharply; countless possibilities flashed through his mind, but all turned to despair.

"Launch torpedo decoys—"

Before his words even faded, the left side of the Laken shuddered violently, as if struck by a sea beast, the whole ship lurching.

The people in the bridge were thrown weightlessly against the glass windows on one side, then swallowed by the rising flames and heat.

From a distance, the cruiser named Laken looked like a chopstick snapped in the middle, slowly sinking into the sea amid blazing fire and the flashes of ammunition explosions.

It all happened in an instant.

From the torpedo hit to the cruiser’s sinking, only fifteen minutes passed. In the realm of beyond-visual-range warfare, detecting the enemy’s trace already meant it was too late.

About twenty nautical miles west of the cruiser, an attack nuclear submarine slowly surfaced, revealing its bridge equipped with radio gear.

They had been silent here for three full days, lying on the seabed like a real reef.

Silent radio waves sent news of the successful strike to the naval command on Anle Island.

"This is ‘Shark’s Tooth.’ The Laken has sunk. We will proceed to the rendezvous point as planned to join the other vessels."

After completing the report, the Shark’s Tooth submarine submerged again, turning to head toward the main fleet.

The bridge was unusually silent.

Unable to bear the oppressive quiet, an officer quietly left the bridge and went to the corridor, only to find someone already standing there.

Seeing his grim expression, the other man whistled, trying to ease the awkward silence.

"Counting the Cold Night... we’ve already taken out two friendlies."

"Are they really friendlies?"

"For now, I guess—we trained together once."

The awkwardness didn’t seem to ease; the corridor fell silent again.

Standing at the door for a long time, the officer sighed and said.

"...Let’s get this over with."

He didn’t know how future generations would judge this twisted past.

Perhaps sinking to the bottom of the sea was the true release.

...

The Shark’s Tooth submarine, having completed its mission, continued toward its original target.

After the Reef Rock destroyer had sailed a certain distance according to plan, it found itself neither sunk nor met by anyone, suddenly caught in a mission "vacuum."

The Anle Island naval command had not assigned it any further combat tasks, and continuing on the original course was clearly pointless.

Before long, the Reef Rock’s sonar system detected the wreckage of the sunken cruiser.

Zhang Ruowen didn’t hesitate; he ordered an immediate advance toward the area where the Laken had gone down.

Though the chances of the crew surviving were slim, he still intended to try to rescue them.

Save as many as you can.

As for Alzu, who had taken up residence in his mind, she had vanished without a trace—whether merely silent or truly gone, he could not tell.

But whatever the case, once all this was over, he would undergo a minor surgery to have that thing removed.

The bionic chip had its uses, but now that he no longer felt any confusion about the future, he had no need to listen to the so-called gospel of "Heaven."

At the same time, in the North Island naval command, a deathly silence spread like a plague through everyone's hearts.

Charlas's pupils dilated, his eyes bloodshot, his fists clenched tightly.

At that moment, he was like a provoked beast.

The people standing beside him dared not even breathe loudly, let alone make a sound, for fear of incurring the wrath of this beast.

"...Useless."

Charlas cursed harshly, suppressing the ache in his heart, and turned to the commander beside him, immediately demanding,

"What about our main fleet? Have they spotted the enemy fleet?"

"Not yet... Should we dispatch a destroyer to track and sink the sonar wave from the Laken?" the commander asked nervously, hastily adding the last part, only to be berated mercilessly.

"Are you a pig?! We only have two destroyers left! Rely on one destroyer to cover our battleship?"

What a bunch of idiots!

Looking at the silent commander, Charlas grumbled a few more curses, steadied himself, and turned his gaze back to the sea chart.

Excluding the destroyer about to be launched, he now had only three ships left.

One battleship, two destroyers—a configuration that was extremely unbalanced.

On the other side, the South Sea Alliance seemed to be gaining more equipment and personnel the longer they fought: three destroyers plus a cruiser, another three nuclear submarines, and a submarine carrier that had yet to appear.

But—

His side wasn't entirely without a chance.

If the Haiya battleship could wipe out all four surface combatants of the South Sea Alliance, and his Feiyu and Hanwei destroyers could then eliminate the remaining four submarines, there was still a sliver of hope for victory!

But why?

Charlas stared intently at the sea chart, his brow furrowed tightly.

Why had his battleship still not detected any trace of the South Sea Alliance fleet?

Had they used some new anti-radar coating or special jamming device?

If the Reef was a decoy, the South Sea Alliance fleet must be lying in ambush nearby...

Wait!

Charlas suddenly realized, his pupils contracting to their limit.

They already know that I know the Reef is a decoy.

They must know that the Haiya battleship is lying in wait nearby.

Just as they guessed that the Laken cruiser would approach the Reef, it was only logical for them to deduce the main fleet's movements.

After all, he would never send a cruiser alone hundreds of nautical miles; the main fleet would inevitably be waiting somewhere within a hundred nautical miles.

"If I were Li Minghui..."

"I would never throw my only asset at the battleship's face, but instead strike the North Island port while the battleship is away..."

He muttered under his breath, his lips trembling, as another cold sweat slid down Charlas's forehead.

This time, it wasn't just him.

Everyone in the command room, listening to his murmurs, snapped back to reality.

North Island was their target!

The final battle had begun!

Realizing this, Charlas's eyes widened, and he roared without restraint,

"Order the Haiya to return immediately! Now!"

"Yes!" The communications officer responded nervously, quickly operating the terminal to send the message.

At the same moment, the radar operator in the command room turned pale and shouted in alarm,

"A large number of aerial targets are approaching us! Count: 1,447!"

That voice was like a fuse igniting a powder keg; the clamor instantly erupted into chaos.

"Chaff! Activate active radar to lock the target airspace! Turn on optical observation systems!"

"Put air defense missiles on standby! Hurry!"

"Radar burning through targets! Remaining count: 20... Damn! How are there still so many?!"

"Electromagnetic pulse bomb detonated in our near space! Anti-pulse countermeasures effective!"

"Reflective chaff! They've deployed massive reflective chaff! I can't see clearly!"

"Just a bunch of tricks... Get our planes up to fight! Quick!"

In just one minute, the once-silent North Island command erupted like boiling water!

At the park in the center of North Island, on a temporary runway converted from a lawn, four "simply styled" fuel-powered fighters slowly rolled out of the spacious hangar and raced along the runway into the sky.

In the distant sky, a dazzling patch of light flickered—chaff scattered from the air.

And farther still, the Alliance's planes were speeding toward them, their numbers unknown!

Sitting in their respective cockpits, the four pilots' faces were etched with tension.

Though they had logged 200 hours of training before this, it was their first time on the battlefield.

Before the Alliance arrived in the southern seas, the Federation had not developed an air force or accumulated relevant technical personnel. The two LB-1 fighters were purely products of a "brute-force" design philosophy, with even their fire control and radar systems copied and modified from destroyers.

If their opponents were the Alliance's first-generation jet, the "Lingyun," or a swarm of mass-produced propeller planes, these machines might have stood a chance.

But that was clearly impossible.

At the same time that Charlas finally grasped the South Sea Alliance's strategic movements, a hundred nautical miles from North Island, a massive submarine slowly surfaced, revealing its towering silhouette amid the rolling waves!

It was like a whale breaching the surface, except from its lofty bow, instead of a water spout, carrier-based aircraft were being catapulted into the sky!

Two L-10 "Thunder" fighters and two P-2 "Lightning" attack planes, after being launched, quickly formed an arrowhead combat formation and roared toward the skies above North Island.

The former was a joint creation of Goblin Tech and the Alliance's scientific expedition team; the latter was the crystallization of a century and a half of Boulder Military Industry's technology!

Both used small-scale controlled fusion reactors and plasma thrusters as their power sources and engines, leaving the Northern Federation's LB-1 in the dust by an entire generation!

In fact, before this, the Alliance had also developed a "submarine-based carrier aircraft" specifically for the Conch submarine carrier.

But since the prototypes had mostly crashed during training, and mass production issues hadn't been resolved in time, they regrettably couldn't be deployed in this battle.

Sitting in the cockpit of the Thunder fighter, Luoyu took a deep breath, his eyes quickly scanning the radar interface.

Seeing the red dots on the radar, his gaze gradually sharpened. He flicked the switches for the missile radar and seeker with his left index finger, then placed his left hand on the throttle.

"Enemy aerial units detected! All units, note: release weapon safeties, permission to engage!"

A unified response came through the communication channel.

"Yes!"

Four pale blue plasma plumes, like daggers thrusting into the sky, pierced through layer upon layer of clouds and soon intertwined with the four blazing trails of fire.

After the beyond-visual-range missile exchange, the two sides quickly closed in for close-quarters combat.

Streaks of tracer fire danced wildly through the air, mingling with the bright white flares, like fireworks blooming in the clear sky.

From the very beginning, this battle held no suspense.

The Northern Federation's hastily assembled air force, from personnel to equipment, was ninety percent green rookies. After emptying their missiles and entering a dogfight with the experienced pilots of the Alliance, they were utterly toyed with.

An LB-1 had its wing severed by cannon fire, turning into a fiery meteor as it plunged toward the sea.

Ignoring the pilot who had ejected, the fighter piloted by Luoyu directly breached the airspace over North Island. In a low-altitude pass, it launched an anti-radar missile carrying an EMP warhead at the source of the radar emission!

The rampant pulse current instantly paralyzed the radar's internal electronics, and the Northern Federation's air defenses on the island were suddenly blinded, their once-fierce anti-air fire losing all accuracy.

Two P-2 "Lightning" attack aircraft simultaneously launched a total of eight air-to-ground missiles, destroying all exposed launch positions.

This included the launchers for surface-to-air missiles, as well as the silos for anti-ship missiles!

The main fleet of the South Sea Alliance closed in on the waters near North Island. Two destroyers raised their naval guns and, guided by drones, began shelling the military port and the barracks near the port.

At this point, North Island's air defenses were all but defunct, and the ground resistance was on the verge of collapse.

If the Federation had even a single destroyer nearby, this raid would not have gone so smoothly, nor would the Alliance's aircraft have been able to approach within 50 kilometers of the island.

But in war, there is no "if."

Victory was decided in the moment one side faltered.

The Marine Corps and garrison forces stationed on North Island quickly mobilized.

Clearly, Charras knew exactly what the Alliance would do once they gained air superiority.

Before the Federation fleet could return to defend, he had to hold back the Alliance at all costs!

At the same moment the aerial battle was decided, four "Viper" small transport planes, parked in the cargo hold of the Conch submarine carrier, were sequentially lifted to the upper deck by elevators.

That steep deck was the most noticeable external difference between the Conch submarine carrier and the Dolphin cargo submarine.

The former, besides its spacious internal structure and the catapult tracks for carrier-based aircraft, had its top modified into a deck and parking apron suitable for conventional aircraft takeoff and landing.

A total of twenty-four heavy infantry, clad in "Xia Guang" powered armor, had assembled beside the "Viper" transport planes. In their hands, they carried not only automatic weapons like light and heavy machine guns but also fearsome anti-materiel weapons like the 37mm "Heavy Cavalry Rifle."

Though only two squads were gathered here, no one dared underestimate their firepower!

They were the Alliance's best-equipped and most capable infantry unit—the Burning Corps!

On the Shifeng Mountains or the Weifu Wasteland, this force of just over twenty could easily annihilate a thousand-strong mutant horde!

Waves crashed against the hull, white foam washing over the proud bow.

Old Bai, wearing "Dragon Rider" powered armor, stepped before his comrades and raised his helmet's visor, shouting loudly.

"Our air force brothers have taken the skies above the enemy. Now it's our turn to pull the rug out from under them!"

"The target is the airport in the center of North Island. We need to ensure the runway remains intact and suppress anything that points a gun at you!"

"Remember to control the engagement zone—do not harm civilians!"

"Yes!!" Roars of high morale echoed across the deck, excitement blazing in every player's eyes.

Meeting those eyes burning with fighting spirit, Old Bai closed his helmet's visor and crisply swung his right hand.

"Move out!!!"

With the order given, agile figures swiftly boarded the ready Vipers.

Pale blue plasma plumes shot from the engine nozzles, dragging the streamlined fuselages off the deck, skimming the wave crests as they sped toward North Island.

At the same time, North Island was shrouded in smoke and fire, with thick black plumes rising everywhere.

Especially on the southern side of the island.

From the military port to the edge of the settlement, the entire stretch of land looked as if it had been plowed by a bulldozer, leaving only a devastated wasteland.

150mm naval guns had thoroughly swept the area, and even the nearby shipyard had been hit by two stray shells, its dome blown open.

Four "Viper" transport planes cut straight through the black smoke, like swords thrust into the belly, breaching the defenses along North Island's coastline.

The dazed Marine Corps scrambled out of their cover, raising their rifles to fire into the sky.

But 7mm bullets were no threat to the Viper transports. Deprived of anti-air weapons, they could only watch helplessly as the planes raced toward the island's center.

Leaning against a shattered ruin, a Marine Corps company commander in an exoskeleton grabbed his radio and shouted into the channel, nearly desperate.

"...This is the southern shoreline defense!"

"Enemy air power has broken through our lines! Their target appears to be the airport in the center of the island!"

"We... cannot stop them!"

Charras, who had just retreated to the presidential basement under the cover of the Marines, hadn't even caught his breath when he received the grim news from the front.

When he heard that the Alliance's target was not the presidential palace, he instinctively breathed a sigh of relief.

But before that relief could settle, his heart, which had just relaxed, leaped back into his throat.

The airport!

The Alliance's target was the airport!

"No! They must not take the airport!" he roared, grabbing his trusted subordinate, Marine Corps commander Lundy, who stood beside him. "Take your men there! Forget about me! Defend the airport at all costs!"

If the Alliance occupied the airport, their transport planes could land directly on the island.

By then, even if the Federation fleet returned to defend, it would be too late. The entire southern sea would have no port left for the Federation fleet to resupply.

Grabbed by the collar, Lundy felt sweat on his forehead and back.

"But you—"

"I said! Forget about me!"

Charras bellowed in fury, rudely cutting off his nonsense, and shoved him toward the door, watching him stumble into the corridor and then toward the basement exit.

After the figure disappeared, he turned his murderous gaze to the grimy-faced officers.

"And you! All of you, get out!"

No one dared to provoke this man.

Those who had just sat down quickly got up again, trembling as they left the room to him.

The room fell silent.

Charras steadied his breathing, taking a long while to calm himself.

The entire room was eerily quiet, as if the world had shrunk to just him.

He heard his own breathing, even his own heartbeat.

This seemed to be the end...

His ambition, barely begun, had already come to a hasty close.

But why?

Why can't these useless bastards just do as they're told!

He closed his eyes in pain, cupping his deeply wrinkled face in his hands.

If the Laken had sunk the Reef as planned, and the ambush fleet had devoured the South Sea Alliance fleet as planned, then not only Peace Island, but Ring Island and even Chips Port would bow at his feet!

Then he would sail his warships into the port of Silver Moon Bay, conquer the Hump Kingdom while continuing westward into the interior of Boro Province! Up the Everflow River, until the front line reached West Sail Port, held by the Legion!

He would build an incomparably vast empire upon the sea! The lads of the southern seas could do whatever they pleased on the wasteland!

Yet these bastards just had to oppose him!

They simply refused to listen to his plan!

For a moment, he seemed to see a vision, as if he were not huddled in the basement of the Presidential Palace, but seated in the palace of the world's master.

But only for a moment—the dreamlike image dissolved like a soap bubble, dragging him back into the pitch-black abyss called reality.

Gazing at the flickering light, he suddenly thought of a name.

Perhaps that was the only one who could save him.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he called out in a trembling voice.

"Alzu."

The room was dead silent.

That fellow was still the same—liked to vanish at critical moments, no response no matter how much he called.

But now was different from before; in the past he had never placed hope in an outsider, yet now that fellow had become his only lifeline.

"Alzu!"

Facing that wordless silence, a trace of fear rose in his heart, and he shouted again.

"Alzu!! Come out here!"

This time, the voice from the void finally responded.

But its feeble tone plunged the hope he had barely kindled back into the abyss.

"What point is there in my coming out...?" Looking at the frantic Charlas, Alzu let out a long sigh.

Seeing that fellow's detached demeanor, Charlas was utterly enraged.

"Don't give me that fucking 'none of my business' look! You said we were allies—we rise together, fall together! Give me a hand, help me! What about your biological weapons? Bring them all out! I still have a fleet—once they return, there's still a chance! I haven't lost yet!"

Alzu looked at him in silence, and suddenly a hint of pity appeared in his eyes.

This fellow wasn't like this before.

Or perhaps all 'people' are this ugly at the final moment of life.

Back in Jinhe City, he had blamed the failure on the unreliability of the Sanctuary itself, complained that Luo Qian gave up too early, and from that concluded that 'imperfect divinity is worse than humanity' and 'humanity should lead the earthly believers to build their heaven,' proposing to the Holy Son the necessity of building a 'Second Sanctuary.'

Though most of the pioneers opposed him, the merciful Holy Son granted him the ability to use the Sanctuary as a human.

And during his missionary work in the southern seas diocese, he had always adhered to indirect control through puppetry, using 'divine power' to prop up an earthly 'king,' and then through that king's hands to move the pieces on the chessboard.

Yet the result was so disappointing...

"I never said you lost, but... clearly you already know your own end in your heart, and have even lost yourself in mad fantasies."

Watching the hands reaching for his collar, only to pass through it futilely, Alzu gave a bitter smile, his murky pupils filled with exhaustion.

"...Holy Son above, your servant has done his utmost."