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    Three months had passed since she officially joined the Auxiliary Air Force. The situation was increasingly unfavorable for Bringerton.

    Juom was on the brink of surrender. News came that almost all territories, except for the mountainous areas, had been occupied by the Arke army. Bringerton was in a state of panic because once Juom was fully captured, Bringerton would be the next target. Although Yaltan was next to Arke, Yaltan was virtually an implicit ally of Arke, making the future all too predictable.

    When threats of bombing Camden failed to make Bringerton submit, Emperor Dietrich I of Arke, in a fit of rage, vowed retribution.

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    “Those who stand in Arke’s way, every blade of grass, every brick of this land, will be reduced to ashes.”

    Since then, roughly a month ago, Arke’s bombers had begun attacking Bringerton daily. It was the beginning of ‘the war.’ The capital had not yet been hit, but industrial cities like Camden, Norwell, and Govan in the north had started to be engulfed in flames one after another. Under the guise of ‘strategic bombing,’ countless factories were destroyed, and civilian casualties began to mount. Refugees from the south, who lost their homes, started flooding in. However, the most severe damage was the anger and fear that took root in everyone’s hearts.

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    The capital hadn’t suffered damage yet because anti-aircraft defenses were concentrated there.

    The air force was protecting only the nobles and the rich, and there were already agreements on where the bombs would fall. Resentment-fueled anger began to spread among the public like wildfire. Given Bringerton’s history centered around the nobility, these grievances were not unfounded. Thus, the whole nation was swept into a vortex of anxiety, despair, and anger.

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    However, even this chaotic situation wouldn’t last long. When the number of fallen soldiers could increase no more, when all fighter aircraft factories turned to ashes, the Arke army would cross the blood sea to the mainland. And then, not even the gods in the sky could save Bringerton. It would be the day of Bringerton’s downfall.

    🌷🌷🌷

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    — At a new fighter jet production factory in the central region of Bringerton.

    Diana stood in front of a fighter jet. Unpainted, it gleamed with the sharp aluminum color, and its design was somehow different from the fighters she had seen before. After observing the aircraft with fluttering eyelashes, Diana summarized her impression in one word.

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    ‘Pretty.’

    Was it appropriate to call a weapon that kills people ‘pretty’? But the curved wings, the shape of the cockpit, all showed a simple yet elegant design. Without realizing it, her hand reached for the swept-back wings. Then, a loud, clear voice of a middle-aged man came from behind her.

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    “How do you like it?”

    “…Yes?”

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    Turning around, Diana immediately recognized who the man was. He was Dr. Cronin, Bringerton’s genius engineer and a pioneer in aviation. The man, wearing thick glasses and with a pipe in his mouth, nodded at Diana.

    “What do you think of the fighter jet in front of you?”

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    “It’s a magnificent plane.”

    “Sounds like empty praise.”

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    “…From the design of the fuselage, it seems it can fly faster by taking on more drag. Though I’m not an expert…”

    “Hmm.”

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    “But I think landing might be a bit difficult. The distance between the wheels is quite narrow, and I’ve only flown this aircraft once a few days ago.”

    “Are you in charge of transporting the planes today?”

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    “Yes.”

    Diana’s role in the Auxiliary Air Force was to deliver the fighters and bombers produced at the factory to various air force bases. Thanks to her excellent performance in the flight test after completing an intensive 8-week crash course, she was given the transport role.

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    It was unprecedented for a novice to perform sharp turns within just three days. Fortunately, by fumbling a bit during landing, she avoided much suspicion. Otherwise, there would have been unnecessary commotion about where a barmaid learned to fly, with accusations of espionage.

    Anyway, now tasked with transport duties, she had to deliver the fighter jet before her to the Pegasus Squadron’s base today. The Pegasus Squadron was engaged in the most battles, defending the capital and the northern Blood Sea coast. It was also famous for being where Lieutenant Richard Ashwood, Bringerton’s top ace, was stationed.

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    The lieutenant had already shot down nearly 13 enemy aircraft within two weeks of the enemy’s full-scale attack. His fame had grown so much that some of her colleagues who were in charge of transport from this factory were volunteering to deliver planes to the Pegasus Squadron.

    Well, given his good looks, noble background, and excellent flying skills, it would be strange not to admire him. However, that was all. Regardless of her curiosity about his skills, focusing on her current mission was more important for her. She was busy enough to make her eyebrows flutter every day.

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    Even though Diana and the other transport personnel made deliveries twice a day, everyone was clamoring about the shortage of fighters.

    Dr. Cronin’s gleaming eyes scanned Diana’s face, as if searching for any trace of deceit. He suddenly spoke,

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    “Armada-13.”

    “Yes?”

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    “That’s the name of that plane.”

    “Oh… Yes.”

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    “Don’t drive it recklessly. Land it properly. It’s a precious resource.”

    He dropped this statement and then turned away and disappeared. Diana watched his hunched back for a moment before her attention returned to the fighter jet.

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    Now, it was time to get to work for the day. Diana clapped her gloved hands.

    🌷🌷🌷

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    One hour later.

    Diana took off into the sky with Armada-13. She pulled the control stick forward and raised the nose of the plane. Since there was no need to fly in formation, she was the only plane in the sky.

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    Sitting alone in the cockpit, the hectic past few months flashed before her eyes like a slide show. It was quite unfamiliar when she first flew the new fighter during training. Technology had advanced significantly over the 20 years that had passed.

    If the biplanes she used to fly in her past life felt light because they gained more lift, the new fighter felt swift and powerful, like riding a bullet. It was like switching from riding a horse to driving a race car. Moreover, the addition of canopy glass, which wasn’t in the old cockpits, was a significant difference, providing a sense of confinement but also stability.

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    Diana chuckled, thinking about the cushion she had to place under her to fit into the seat, designed for male pilots.

    ‘This fighter feels really comfortable, though.’

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    It was as if she was flying not against but with the wind’s help. It was a smoothness she had never felt in any other aircraft.

    ‘Must be due to the fuselage design.’

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    If that was the case, she could understand the designer’s pompous remark about it being a ‘precious resource.’ His pride had some solid ground.

    ‘What about the engine performance?’

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    Even though test pilots must have flown it countless times, an inexplicable curiosity suddenly surged within her. She hadn’t been able to push the throttle during the test maneuver because she was being observed, but now she was alone.

    ‘Let’s try it just once.’

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    Her heart raced, and her mouth went dry. Without realizing it, her left hand moved towards the lever next to the control stick.

    As she pushed the lever, the throttle opened, and the engine began to roar. With a sound like a lion waking from slumber, the plane cut through the clouds at high speed.

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    Diana checked the speedometer with one eye. 550 kilometers per hour.

    “…Not bad.”

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    A word of admiration escaped her lips. While other fighters could achieve this speed, the sensation was entirely different.

    ‘Let’s try gaining some altitude now.’

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    Pulling the control stick slightly forward to raise the nose, the plane ascended sharply. The movement was smooth without any hindrance.

    ‘…I am curious about the maximum altitude, but let’s stop here.’

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    Staying true to the mission was the priority. Diana pushed the control stick back to fly horizontally. How many minutes had passed?

    ‘…?’

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    An inexplicable chill ran through her body. It was the same bitter sensation she felt before Camden was bombed four months ago. Even though there was nothing visible in the clear blue sky, she felt an ominous premonition.

    ‘Is it that mind-melding thing again?’

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    Just to be safe, she closed off her channel. If the enemy sensed her presence, things could get very complicated.

    As Diana keenly observed her surroundings, she spotted a black dot. It was definitely an Arke fighter.

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    ‘Damn it.’

    The curse slipped out before she could think.

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    “I need to run.”

    It was a natural decision for Diana. Even though she was known as an excellent pilot in her past life, she had no experience in dogfighting with this new aircraft. Air combat requires instant sensory and rational judgment. Everything felt awkward in an unfamiliar plane, and a momentary mistake could lead to death. It was an absolutely unfavorable fight for her.

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    Diana decided to hide in the clouds by raising the nose further, but it was too late. The enemy fighter suddenly raised its nose higher than hers and overtook her altitude before diving down to attack.

    In that instant, her mind went blank, and her body moved before she could think. Despite how different her body and the aircraft were from 25 years ago, her ability to read and understand enemy intent hadn’t vanished along with her mind-melding ability.

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    — Bwoooooong.

    The Arke fighter fired at Diana. Bullets rained down on the wings and fuselage. The fighters nearly collided head-on. Diana ducked quickly, returning fire with her machine guns. It seemed like they were about to crash into each other, but the enemy fighter’s engine noise passed above her plane. The opponent had narrowly missed her.

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    ‘Can I escape?’

    From the brief skirmish, Diana realized one thing.

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    ‘The enemy is much faster.’

    ‘I thought Armada-13 was a great aircraft, but that one…’

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    Although she wasn’t familiar with the enemy aircraft, it was faster than her Armada-13. If she simply showed her tail and ran, she would definitely get shot down from behind.

    The six o’clock position of death. Being attacked from behind was the worst scenario for a pilot.

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    Sweat began to gather in her gloved hands. If escape wasn’t an option, there was only one way to survive at the brink of life and death.

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