Disrupting the Abyssal carrier formation—with just a hundred bombers—was already more than enough.
Six-star hero bombers in the hands of shipgirls trained to level 110 were terrifying, especially with so many buffs stacked on them.
Hundreds of streaking contrails tore through the skies like meteors crashing into planets. Abyssal shipgirls hit by them suffered anything from shattered rigging to instant annihilation.
And this precision strike was only part of it. Lexington's goal wasn't just decapitation strikes—it was also to throw the enemy into disarray, denying them the chance to organize a coordinated bombing wave.
That was why half the hero bombers dropped full-power area-damage ordnance instead of precision payloads.
It was like comparing poison needles to demolition charges.
Dozens of fireballs, each with the destructive force of a multi-megaton Tsar Bomba, erupted across the sea at once. The ocean vaporized in massive swathes, kilometer-high columns of flame boiling upward in chains until the entire stretch of black waters was a seething inferno.
Any Abyssal shipgirl below level 80 was simply vaporized along with the sea. Those around level 80 were heavily damaged, with "moderate damage" being the best outcome if they were anywhere near the blast zone.
Only those above level 90 escaped with some measure of dignity—though ironically, the highest-leveled Abyssals were the ones targeted directly by precision strikes.
"Damn it!"
Abyssal Zumwalt cursed. Among the flagship squadron, only she was properly equipped to counter Lexington's group. She raised her silver flight rig, and the miniature sun at its core spat out a missile like a bolt of lightning.
Boom! Boom!
But before her missile had flown even ten meters, two streaks—one gold, one silver—sliced through the air. Traveling at more than 3,400 meters per second, they struck almost instantly. Zumwalt barely had time to shield her face before the pair of warheads detonated across her body.
Engulfed in flames, she screamed, "Damn it! Since when did they have missiles too?!"
The close-range blast disrupted her own missile, detonating it in place and dragging nearby Abyssal shipgirls into the explosion, sinking several outright.
The destructive power of just one of Changchun's missiles rivaled the combined strike of more than a dozen of Lexington's Doolittle Raiders.
Shaken, Zumwalt staggered with light damage, while Abyssal Musashi's fury boiled over.
She glared venomously at Abyssal Yamato. "Where did they get a missile destroyer that strong? What the hell is your intel worth?!"
Zumwalt was a level 100 Abyssal flagship. The fact that two missiles had left her in a damaged state was unthinkable. Even detonating one of her own missiles in her own face wouldn't have hurt her this badly.
Abyssal Yamato looked stricken. "How should I know? We've already tried everything."
To probe the strength of Hikaru's base, she had already led a massive encirclement against newcomers like Bismarck, only to suffer a crushing defeat. It wasn't for lack of effort.
Who could have predicted that another powerful missile destroyer would suddenly appear? Yamato wanted more reconnaissance, but she simply lacked the spare forces.
Musashi's expression hardened. The worst part was this: if the enemy base could produce one "unknown" powerhouse, who was to say it didn't have more surprises hidden away?
"We don't advance recklessly," Musashi ordered coldly, raising her hand. "Execute Plan Three."
Plan One was a full-force charge.
Plan Two was a standoff.
Plan Three meant tactical withdrawal.
From the rear, Abyssal Friedrich der Große spoke up. "How far do we pull back?"
"Fifty nautical miles," Musashi replied icily, casting a glance at the battered Abyssal carrier squadrons. "If they want to bomb, let them bomb slowly. Our massed ranks exist to serve as cannon fodder. Order the carriers to counterattack on the spot. Not one step back!"
Ordering a counterattack was sound; even a hundred bombers couldn't shatter the core of the Abyssal carriers. But forbidding them to retreat? That was Musashi's cruelty speaking loudest.
Everyone knew it: Abyssal Yamato and Musashi both loathed carriers.
Overhead, a hundred streaking bombers wheeled about for another run. Wave after wave descended like iron plows furrowing the sea, carving the black waters apart and hammering the Abyssal carriers until their formations reeled.
And then—two more streaks of light screamed into the Abyssal ranks.
This time, they annihilated a level 100 Abyssal battleship outright and left another level 100 Abyssal carrier burning, heavily damaged.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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