After days of clashing, Abyssal Musashi already knew just how vicious the enemy carriers were: with barely three carriers and a little over two hundred aircraft, they'd weathered wave after wave—millions—of Abyssal sorties, so long as the escorts' AA screen held.
Their planes were simply on another level—six-star hero planes.
By contrast, Abyssal kit was embarrassing. Musashi herself, a level-107 flagship, was stuck with a "high-speed recon plane" worth +2 AA and +4 Bombing—junk that wouldn't even qualify as a one-star whiteboard on the human side. It couldn't be mentioned in the same breath as those hero planes.
Beside her, the Airfield Princess tilted her head, curious. "Six hundred aircraft and you're spooked like this? What did your carrier group grow up eating—dirt?"
Anyone in her shoes would ask the same. She hadn't fought Lexington's group yet, and Musashi—out of spite—hadn't briefed her properly on the enemy base.
The Airfield Princess had strutted in and rubbed Musashi's face in the mud from the moment she arrived. Frankly, Musashi would be delighted to watch her get burned.
Then she sighed. From where the Airfield Princess sat—in the deepest core of the formation—she was the last one who'd pay for it.
Musashi flicked a glance at Abyssal Hindenburg, and let her do the explaining.
"Here's the situation," Hindenburg said with a wry smile. "They held off our million-plane raids with just two hundred on their side. They only added one more carrier, and suddenly four hundred extra aircraft appeared out of thin air."
The Airfield Princess traded a look with the Fortress Princess. "Two hundred versus a million… unless every last one of those is a hero plane."
Lady M grimly nodded. "That's basically it."
The Airfield Princess drew a long breath, wiping the cold storm-spray from her face.
They were racing through a squall, but none of that chill dampened the heat in her chest.
She was excited—and annoyed.
She shot a glance at Musashi's stone-cold expression and silently clicked her tongue. What a waste.
By lineage, an Airfield Princess of the X.Fliegerkorps name spawns only in five-star or six-star rarities.
But even among six-stars, level and statlines—firepower, HP, armor, AA—still separate the apex from the pack.
This 544-Base Airfield Princess was at the ceiling: HP 365, FP 250, Armor 150, AA 200—every value jammed against a hard cap.
All Abyssals crave more power. For her, the "best, hardest" route forward was to break the level ceiling past 100—that's why she wore the eagle-crested cap.
But that wasn't the only path.
For an Airfield Princess, better aircraft were the true grail.
Right now she carried two Abyssal Fighter Mk.III (+9 AA total) and two Abyssal High-Speed Bombers (+10 Bombing, +7 ASW).
That's decent—those fighters barely rank three–four star, and the high-speed bombers are comfortable five-star golds.
She was proud of them; they were the fruits of long years hoarded. The average sister model is stuck with Abyssal Bomber Mk.II (+6 Bombing, +2 ASW)—a three-star at best, trash next to her high-speed set.
But hero planes? A single one is worth a thousand—ten thousand—of those high-speed bombers.
They're the Red Hare among war-steeds, the halberd that every general dreams of.
Hero planes are treasures.
Her mouth watered—and she ground her teeth.
If she were running this op, she'd seize that human admiral—threaten him, bargain with his life, and force the enemy carriers to trade their hero planes to ransom him.
Even if it meant letting that base slip away and "failing" the mission, the haul would be worth it.
Too bad she wasn't the one in charge.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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