Dawn. The vast snowy plains of Northern Terra were dyed a shade of reddish-orange.
This was not the light of sunrise, but the prelude to war.
With the activation of the Leithanien Empire's highest state of war, three torrents of steel launched a thunderous offensive against the Ursus Empire simultaneously.
On the East Route, Lacey personally led the main force. This included the Tiger III heavy tank armored divisions, the Stuka C-type dive bomber wing, the "Red Flag" anti-ship missile tactical squad, the "Dongfeng" long-range missile tactical squad, the drone swarm squad, the Tower Nobles caster regiment, the Golden Law Guard chapter, and the Imperial Guard regiment. Totaling seven army groups with a troop strength of approximately 500,000, they crossed the frozen border line from the north of Leithanien.
On the Southwest Route, the army group commanded by the Black Empress, Herlinmarte Hildegard, consisted primarily of the Victoria Legion. They were mainly responsible for attacking the Northern Victoria region controlled by Ursus.
On the West Route, the coalition forces of South Kazimierz and Kazdel, under the separate commands of Theresis and Margarete, split into two paths: one to resolve North Kazimierz, and the other to thrust directly into the flank of the Ursus defense line.
At this very moment, Emperor Fyodor's million-strong army was still conducting its final assembly for the upcoming general offensive. They had severely misjudged Leithanien's reaction speed and resolve.
Compounded by failures in intelligence.
So much so that the generals of Ursus were still immersed in the numerical superiority of their T-34 tanks and the false confidence brought by Columbian technology, completely unaware that the sky above their heads was about to become their graveyard.
"Nightingale calling Tower. Arrived at designated airspace. Ready to commence operation."
Major Hans piloted his Stuka C-type dive bomber, looking down at the snow-white earth through the cockpit glass.
In his field of vision, the Ursus military camps, supply depots, and massed tank phalanxes were clearly visible.
Within his headset came the relaxed, teasing voices of his wingmen.
"Boss, look at those iron cans down there. Packed so tight, it's like they're afraid we won't see them."
"Shut up, Fritz. Check the bomb racks. This isn't a drill," Hans scolded, though the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
"Copy that, copy that."
"I just feel... are the Ursus people thinking about war too simply? Do they think this is still the era of infantry line charges?"
"They will learn a new lesson soon enough." Hans's voice turned cold.
He pushed the control stick, and the nose of the plane dipped violently downward.
The piercing scream of the siren—the famous "Jericho Trumpet"—instantly resounded through the sky.
The plane dove vertically toward the ground, its posture ferocious.
The earth rapidly magnified in his vision; he could clearly see the panic-stricken faces of the Ursus soldiers on the ground.
Suddenly, countless tongues of fire erupted from the surface.
A dense web of tracer rounds formed a lethal net, howling as it lunged toward the aircraft formation.
Amidst the muffled *bang-bang-bang* of impacts, Hans's wing was grazed by several shells, causing the fuselage to shudder violently.
"Damn it! Their anti-air firepower is much denser than in the intel!" came the startled cry of another pilot in the headset.
"It's the new stuff from Columbia!"
"Maintain dive angle! Don't get spooked!" Hans roared, his eyes deadlocked on a camouflaged frontline command post below.
"Trust in the Stuka!"
The Stuka C-type's excellent structural design and partially reinforced armor proved their worth at this moment.
Although the net of fire was dense, most small-caliber anti-aircraft shells could only leave minor dents on the fuselage.
However, the dangerous anti-air fire forced them to release their bombs at a higher altitude, which would undoubtedly affect accuracy.
"Bombs away!"
Hans pressed the button the instant he pulled the nose up.
A heavy bomb detached from the rack, smashing toward the target with a whistling shriek.
*BOOM—*
A massive fireball and thick smoke rose into the sky. The command post, along with several surrounding T-34 tanks, was instantly swallowed.
Throughout the morning, Leithanien's bomber wings flew approximately 1,500 sorties, repeatedly plowing the ground over Ursus's positions, command posts, logistics stations, supply lines, factories, airfields, and other critical facilities.
Ursus's newly equipped air defense systems did indeed cause them considerable trouble. Some planes returned with damage, and some were shot down, but overall casualties were not heavy.
However, the increase in dive altitude discounted the bombing effectiveness, causing many bombs to fall on empty ground.
An Ursus frontline commander, General Grigori, shouted in rage amidst the dust covering his face after being shaken out of his bunker:
"Where is our Air Force? Where are our bombers? Fly over there and blast them to the sky for me!"
Half an hour later, hundreds of Ursus bombers, escorted by a small number of fighter jets, lunged aggressively toward the Leithanien border.
However, what awaited them were the "Messerschmitt" fighter swarms already circling in the high altitude.
"'Butcher Bird' Squad, target sighted!"
"Repeat, target sighted!"
"Time to let these dumb bears know who the masters of the sky are! Everyone, follow me!"
Leithanien's ace pilots pounced on the massive Ursus aircraft formation.
Relying on their superior climb rate and maneuverability, the Messerschmitt fighters easily flanked to the rear of the Ursus bombers.
"Fire!"
The autocannons spewed lethal chains of fire, tearing apart the wings and engines of the Ursus bombers.
One after another, Ursus warplanes fell from the sky trailing black smoke and flames.
Their escort fighters attempted to counterattack, but faced with the double disparity in performance and pilot quality, they were quickly separated, surrounded, and annihilated one by one by the Messerschmitt swarm.
This aerial slaughter could barely be called a battle.
The Ursus Air Force was routed almost without the ability to fight back.
The air power in which Emperor Fyodor had placed such high hopes was completely lost within the first hour of the war.
Eastern Front Command.
Lacey calmly watched as the models representing the Ursus Air Force were removed from the sand table one by one.
Minister of War Taylor stood to the side, unable to conceal the excitement on his face. "Your Majesty, the Air Force did a beautiful job! The Ursus people are now blind!"
Lacey shook his head. "Our bombing was effective, but the efficiency loss is too high, and the risk to our pilots is increasing."
Minister of Intelligence Gertrude handed over a document. "Your Majesty, according to the latest drone reconnaissance and intelligence intercepted by Lappland on the black market network, we have locked onto at least thirty new air defense positions supported by Columbian technology on the Ursus frontline."
"Very good."
Lacey's fingertips glided lightly over those red dots.
He turned to the communications officer and ordered, "Order the missile troops to clear the targets. In fifteen minutes, I wish to see a clean map."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
*BOOM—*
At the Ursus frontline command post, General Grigori had just received the bad news that the Air Force was nearly wiped out. Before he could recover from the shock, a violent tremor knocked him to the ground.
Dirt showered down from the roof of the bunker, and the lights flickered.
"What's happening? Is it an earthquake?" He struggled to climb up.
A signalman scrambled in, rolling and crawling, his face pale as a ghost. "General... General! Our air defense positions... they're all gone!"
"What?"
"The... the sky... so many pillars of fire fell down..."
"Our anti-aircraft gun positions, gunships... everything that could shoot at the sky... exploded!"
"Nothing is left!"
"Huh?"
Grigori rushed out of the bunker, but he immediately stood frozen on the spot, stunned by the scene before him.
In the distance, those air defense positions that claimed they would ensure the Leithanien Air Force had no return ticket had now turned into massive burning craters, with black smoke rolling straight into the clouds.
In the sky, there was no shadow of bombers, only the faint contrails left by missiles.
This was a strike from another dimension.
Before he could digest this fear, that chilling sound of the "Jericho Trumpet" came from the horizon once again.
This time, there was no longer a dense net of fire to greet them.
Major Hans piloted his Stuka once more, diving toward the ground at a near-perfect ninety-degree angle.
Without the threat of anti-aircraft guns, he could calmly lower the plane to the optimal bombing altitude, keeping the crosshairs of his sight steadily fixed on an Ursus ammunition depot.
"Fritz, do you see that? Now *this* is plowing the field," he said softly, pressing the bomb release button.
This time, Leithanien's bomber wings were unleashed.
Bombs fell densely, covering the Ursus command system, artillery positions, tank clusters, and supply lines.
The earth trembled, steel melted, and lives wailed.
A young Ursus shieldguard, Ivan, hugged his giant shield tightly, curling up in a crude trench.
The comrades beside him had already been blown to pieces in the previous wave of bombing.
All he could hear was the sound of explosions and the chattering of his own teeth.
He didn't understand. Why was it like this?
Before setting out, the officers told them that the great Ursus army would crush the arrogant Leithanians with a torrent of steel, bringing new glory to the Empire.
But now, he hadn't even seen the shadow of an enemy, yet he was already in hell.
Why was the powerful Imperial Army so vulnerable?
Once this thought was born, it spread in his heart and the hearts of all surviving soldiers.
The courage and faith they took pride in were blown to smithereens in the face of absolute technological disparity.
When night fell, the bombing finally paused temporarily.
On the snowy plains, burning wreckage and mutilated corpses were everywhere.
The surviving Ursus soldiers crawled out from their hiding places, their faces filled with bewilderment and terror.
Their command system was paralyzed, their organization disrupted, and many units couldn't even find their own commanders.
And this was merely the beginning of the war.
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