UCT Ch 18

The two planes approached the swarm of Arke aircraft at the same time with identical maneuvers.

Richard’s Exton fired its machine guns at one of the Arke fighters escorting the bombers from the rear.

An astonishing thing happened. In less than five seconds, blood splattered inside the enemy’s cockpit. The fighter immediately plummeted to the ground.

The man didn’t stop there. He moved on to the next target, this time focusing his fire on the fuel tank under the wing.

The plane caught fire after being hit by less than ten rounds.

After dealing with the second target, Richard turned his nose toward the massive bomber. At the same moment, three enemy fighters that had been flying ahead made a sharp turn and rushed towards him. Their coordinated movements clearly indicated they were mind melder pilots.

There was no time for radio briefings in this urgent moment. Diana fired her cannon at one of the planes trying to get behind Richard.

The enemy fighter, hit directly in the wing, crashed into another enemy fighter, causing two out of the three to disintegrate in mid-air.

With a massive explosion, debris from the two planes flew towards Diana. It narrowly missed her canopy, but had it hit, it would have been the end.

However, one remained. Diana, biting her lower lip until it bled, opened her mind melding channel.

She shared her vision with Richard.

[One enemy at 8 o’clock.]

[Confirmed.]

Richard’s Exton sharply turned its nose in the opposite direction. Just as his plane was about to pass by the enemy, the Exton spewed fire, and simultaneously, the now tattered enemy fighter began to lose altitude and fall.

From the falling fighter, the cockpit ejected, and an Arke pilot was seen escaping. Without even confirming it, Richard immediately gave instructions to Diana through mind melding.

[Bomber.]

Just one word was enough for her to understand what he meant. They were going to attack it together.

It’s not common for more than two fighters to attack one target simultaneously.

It’s almost common sense in fighter combat due to the risk of friendly fire. But for mind melders, the story was different.

The combat style of mind melders was similar to wolves hunting. Even without words, they could instantly understand what the leader wanted.

Of course, to communicate perfectly, some experience was necessary. However, maintaining the melding with Richard Ashwood was not difficult due to his overwhelming power.

Even in this chaos, everything was clear. It felt like sharing sensory organs with him.

[Confirmed.]

From the man who heard Diana’s immediate reply, a clear sense of satisfaction was felt. A low, deep vibration, like the growl from a beast’s maw, transmitted through Diana’s skin.

The excitement was so intense, she was breaking into a cold sweat.

Regardless of the hellish situation they were in, the man was laughing with joy. Why wouldn’t he? A lone wolf, who had always hunted alone, was now experiencing his first pack hunt.

It was only natural. A mocking voice echoed in Diana’s mind.

‘You? Diana. Are you enjoying this too?’

To suppress the accusatory words rising within her, she chanted like a mantra:

‘Don’t think. Thinking is the enemy.’

Now, she just needed to trust her instincts and the mind melding. That was all.

The two planes flew towards the bomber simultaneously. At that moment, the rear machine guns on the bomber began to fire.

Diana licked the blood that had burst from her lip, keeping her eyes fixed on the targeting reticle in front of her.

🌷🌷🌷

Bringerton was ecstatic with the unbelievable news of victory.

The 1st Air Battalion had thwarted Arke’s all-out assault on the capital, and with minimal losses. Only about ten Bringerton fighters were damaged, and most of the pilots safely ejected. In contrast, the damage to Arke’s forces was catastrophic.

Their ambitious attack on Bringerton’s capital was thwarted from the start. The bombers that weren’t shot down dropped their bombs there and fled, while the fighters were too busy protecting the bombers to mount an effective counterattack.

For Bringerton, it was nothing short of a satisfying revenge.

Moreover, when it was revealed that the hero of this victory was none other than their own hero, Richard Ashwood, the excitement doubled.

Even the royal family was not exempt from this fervor. Princess Catherine was in an excited state all day. With her cheeks flushed, she kept chattering about how the lieutenant should be awarded a medal and promoted two ranks.

Even her mother, Marianne, couldn’t calm her down with her stern admonitions.

[That will proceed according to protocol.]

[Can I go to the base when the medal ceremony happens?]

[No. It’s too dangerous.]

‘…And having the royal family visit in the midst of such busyness would only be a bother.’

The words she couldn’t say in front of the excited princess seemed to still be stuck in her throat hours later.

Marianne, feeling a slight headache, sat down at the table.

They had won a battle, not the war. Now more than ever, they needed to stay level-headed.

The era where one hero could change the times was gone. Or rather, it never existed. Heroes are discovered by chance, completed by necessity, and discarded once their usefulness is over. That was a truth Marianne learned by watching Fernan Lowell, a hero of the past.

‘I can’t let that child follow the same path. It wouldn’t be good for Bringerton either.’

The more Richard Ashwood became a greater hero, the more was at stake with his existence.

‘We must move him to the rear.’

To keep the promise with Fernan to protect the boy and to prevent any potential accidents, there was no other way.

But how? No matter how much the Ashwood family cajoled, flattered, or pressured, the man was stubbornly determined to stay on the battlefield.

Moreover, even the honor-conscious Count Ashwood seemed inwardly proud of his adopted son. Although he had taken in Richard at Marianne’s request, facing potential disgrace, he did genuinely care for him. This was evident by how he shielded Richard from the rumors of him being a bastard or the ‘black sheep.’

As Marianne was grappling with her scattered thoughts, the sound of a hard cane tapping came from down the hall.

It was the Prime Minister. He had come to explain the victory and future strategies, making time in his busy schedule. While all military decisions were left to the parliament and the cabinet, Marianne needed to be informed to some extent.

🌷🌷🌷

“…So, this woman is the so-called ‘Saint of Bringerton’?”

“Yes, she’s twenty-two from Campton. They say she worked at a tavern with her aunt and uncle.”

“Impressive.”

Marianne murmured in admiration as she looked at the black-and-white photograph in front of her. It was the ID photo attached to the enlistment documents.

The woman in the photo, Diana Green, had neatly tied back her slightly curly hair and was wearing her uniform properly.

Her gentle, drooping eyes and closed lips didn’t make her look easy to deal with. There was a sense of determination in her gaze.

“Really impressive. To perform such feats without any piloting experience.”

“…Sergeant Green was in the same squadron as Lieutenant Ashwood.”

“And what are you trying to say with that?”

In response to that question, Ulric gave a crafty smile. He placed another photo next to Diana Green’s.

It was Richard Ashwood’s photo. Like Diana’s, it was an ID photo taken head-on.

Even his expressionless face looked composed. Ulric spoke with satisfaction.

“These two make quite a picture.”

“…A picture? We’re at war. There’s no time for matchmaking.”

The Prime Minister’s frivolous words irritated Marianne. But Ulric was not at all intimidated.

“Lieutenant Ashwood is of noble birth, though there are many rumors.”

“…”

“On the other hand, Sergeant Green is from Campton, which has suffered the most in this war. She’s also a commoner.”

“…”

“Promoting both of them together would greatly help in uniting the people of Bringerton.”

Marianne’s gaze returned to the two ID photos.

Diana Green and Richard Ashwood. Both were attractive, but their auras were completely different. If Diana appeared mild and calm, Richard seemed tough and cold. Light and dark, red and black. Man and woman. Commoner and noble… They contrasted in every way.

Marianne had to admit the Prime Minister’s point to some extent.

Public sentiment was deteriorating. Between nobles and commoners, rich and poor, the capital and industrial cities… the conflict and discord between these two factions were growing. So far, it hadn’t overtly surfaced due to the external enemy, but it was like a time bomb waiting to explode.

Utilizing both of them in external propaganda could help mitigate this issue to some degree.

She knew this was merely a temporary fix, not addressing the root of the problem. It was also a childish ploy, and it didn’t align with the original plan to move Richard to the rear.

‘I know, but…’

Marianne bit her lower lip, pondering. The crown she never wore felt too heavy, giving her a headache.