Above the Fog
Above the vast white blanket of fog, chaos ruled the sky.
Two hundred Ravendawn Avian warriors swarmed through the air, colliding with dozens of Dwargonian airships and their escorting fighter planes. Before this, the airships had been nearly helpless against wyverns in close combat, relying heavily on their fighters to drive the creatures away.
But now, the battlefield had changed.
The new enemies were far more numerous—and far smaller.
ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP
A Dwargonian fighter sliced through its own airship formation, energy beams firing wildly at anything winged that crossed its sights. The pilot gritted his teeth, eyes locked forward, expecting the Avians to scatter.
They didn't.
Instead of evading, the Avians held their position, hovering directly in the fighter's path. Each of them raised unfamiliar weapons—Murican firearms—aiming straight at the oncoming aircraft.
BANG BANG BANG BANG
"HAHAHAHAHA! FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!" one Avian screamed in delight, emptying his M1 Garand again and again.
THUNK
The collision came violently.
At over two hundred kilometers per hour, the Dwargonian fighter smashed into the first Avian—and then the second. The aircraft's frame simply could not endure it. Metal shrieked as one wing snapped, the other tearing halfway loose. The fighter spiraled wildly, trailing smoke, before vanishing downward into the fog below.
"YOU IDIOT! WHY WOULD YOU PASS THROUGH THEM?!" another Dwargonian pilot shouted over the comm—then froze.
There was no response.
He forgot the Ravendawn jammer was still active. Fighters and airships alike were completely cut off from one another. No coordination. No warnings. No orders.
Flying wide—circling the fog outside the jammer's radius—would have been safer. But time was a luxury they didn't have. Every minute, Dwargonian ships below were being destroyed by long-range barrages. The airships had to disrupt the Ravendawn mechanical fleet immediately.
The Dwargonians had never truly had many options.
Even without communication, the remaining fighter pilots adapted. Passing through airship formations was no longer viable—there were simply too many Avians swarming between them. Instead, the fighters pulled back, opening distance and firing from afar.
But distance brought new problems.
The Avians were small. Too small for easy targeting. Worse, the airships loomed behind them—any missed shot risked friendly fire.
And then, their old enemies returned.
From within the fog, several wyverns emerged, roaring as they climbed into the battle. They joined the Avians, harassing airships relentlessly. Fighter planes struggled to weave through the dense swarm—but wyverns had no such limitation.
Wyverns and Avians could halt midair. Fighter planes could not.
The sky became a trap.
---
RATATATATATATATATA
An Avian hovered near an airship bridge, peppering it with fire from his Thompson submachine gun. Bullets shattered windows and sparked against metal plating.
Inside the bridge, the crew fired back with simple hand cannons, panicked and unprepared. They were not equipped for this kind of fight—certainly not a gun fight.
The Avian simply flapped upward, slipping out of their view, only to circle back moments later from a different angle.
"HOW COULD THESE AVIANS JUST APPEAR FROM ABOVE?!" a Dwargonian crewman screamed.
"Tch…" the airship captain muttered. "We were so focused on ambushes from the fog that we never even imagined an attack from above."
"THEY'RE BREACHING THE PIROT!" another crewman shouted.
They watched in disbelief as Avians slipped into the neighboring airship's—its entry point—one by one. Precise. Coordinated. Efficient.
"Since when did Avians become this organized?" the captain whispered. "They usually just charge blindly, without thinking about survival."
Across Talvaris, Avians were known as a frenzied race. Commanders could give them only one kind of order: "charge". Anything more complex was believed impossible.
Avians who could follow normal plans are considered a geniuses. Quite rare.
That's the only avians who can work as a lookout on ships and battle.
What the world didn't know was that the Muricans had uncovered the real reason.
Avians weren't incapable of discipline.
They simply had short memory spans.
They couldn't remember long briefings. Couldn't follow complex plans.
In simpler terms—
They were bird-brained.
---
Dawn Military Base
General Fujin and General Hanz watched the battle unfold across the massive screens of the command center.
"Well," Fujin said thoughtfully, "they can use firearms properly. How long did it take to train them?"
"Longer than expected," Hanz replied with a sigh. "The hardest part was drilling firearm handling and parachute deployment into their muscle memory."
"They look coordinated now," Fujin observed. "Breaching procedures, positioning—everything."
Hanz nodded slowly. "That's because they don't need to do the thinking."
Fujin frowned. "Excuse me?"
---
Inside another building at Dawn Base, Murican paratroopers sat at rows of computers, shouting into headsets.
Each monitor displayed a live feed from an Avian's body camera—thousands of kilometers away.
"Okay, stick the bomb to the door—yes, that one—now move back a little!"
"No, it's not firing because you're out of ammo! Spare magazine, right waist!"
"NO NO NO! DON'T FLY INTO THE PROPELLER!"
Every Avian in the operation was assigned a single Murican handler. Each handler issued simple, step-by-step instructions in real time—thinking for them, deciding for them.
It was the only way to make Avians capable of semi-complex missions.
The result was absurd.
Dawn Base looked less like a military command center and more like a Korean internet café during peak hours.
---
Murica First Fleet, HMS Bahamut
"LOOK AT THOSE DWARF'S FACES! NYAAAHAHAHAHA!"
Rusalka laughed loudly as she leaned back in her chair, eyes glued to one of the many screens lining the bridge. The display showed live body-cam footage from an Avian breacher—gunfire flashing wildly as Dwargonian crew scrambled in panic.
"To the next player! Switch to the next one!" she waved her hand excitedly.
"Yes, ma'am," the operator replied, quickly changing feeds.
On another screen, Captain Cetus observed the tactical overview, far calmer than his commander.
"The Avians and wyverns have effectively prevented the airships from interfering with the Ravendawn barrage," he said. "Their mechanical fleet has been able to fire without disruption."
"Yep!" Rusalka grinned. "And it's pushing the Dwarfs into desperation. Their fleet are forced to enter the fog now."
An officer stepped forward. "Ma'am, sir. The Ravendawn reports that the mine-laying operation is complete."
"AAAHAHAHA! GREAT!" Rusalka clapped her hands together. "And our jets?"
"Already in firing range. Standing by for orders."
"Sweet. Inform the Ravendawn as well."
Rusalka turned her attention to another screen showing a wide aerial view of the battlefield. Slowly, steadily, the Dwargonian fleet was advancing—ship after ship edging closer to the fog.
"Fufufufu…" she hummed softly.
"Come on, come on, little dwarfy~
Come inside the white and fluffy dream world."
---
Dwargonia Main Fleet, Super-Dreadnought Wavebreaker
"Sir… I don't think our airships can get past the fog…"
The captain's voice trembled as he spoke.
"I don't think they can either," Admiral Durnick replied quietly. "Ambush after ambush…"
An officer approached. "Sir, the Black Coast Fleet is about to enter the fog."
Durnick nodded slowly. "Before their transmission is cut by the enemy jammer, order the Black Coast to pass through the fog at full speed. No stops. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Their objective is the enemy mechanical fleet."
"Aye, sir!"
"I just hope whatever trap the Ravendawn laid in that fog…" the captain swallowed, "…the Black Coast still has enough ships left when they pass through."
"Twenty-five cruisers," Durnick whispered.
"Seventeen destroyers. Four dreadnoughts. One super-dreadnought."
His voice grew faint.
"If that's not enough… I don't know what would be."
---
Ravendawn Main Fleet, HMS Luxtor
On the Ravendawn side, the ships were still dancing—turning, weaving, firing volleys into the Dwargonian formation.
Inside the bridge, Admiral Lorenzo watched the aerial battle above the fog.
"Sir!" an officer reported. "Our gunship squadrons and frigates are retreating from the fog!"
Lorenzo turned his gaze toward the fog, watching wooden ships and a steel minelayer emerge from the white veil one by one.
"What about the Dwargonians?" he asked.
"Murican reports their fleet will enter the fog in three minutes."
"Very well," Lorenzo nodded. "Ensure no Ravendawn vessels are left behind inside the fog."
"Aye, sir!"
Lorenzo turned toward Captain Rhines.
"Well, Captain… are you ready for the finale?"
"Aye, Admiral," Rhines replied loudly.
"ALL SHIPS! SWITCH TO SMOKE SHELLS! PROVIDE COVER FOR OUR RETREAT!"
"AYE!"
---
Murica First Fleet, HMS Bahamut
Rusalka's grin widened as she watched more Dwargonian ships disappear into the fog.
"That's it… keep coming inside fufufu"
"Ma'am, ready to fire," an officer said.
"Wait… wait… just a little more…"
She leaned forward.
"Waaait…"
Her grin stretched almost unnaturally wide.
"AND NOW!"
"FIRE! FIRE! EVERYONE FIRE!"
"NYAAAHAHAHAHAHA!"
---
150 Kilometers from the Battlefield
Four Murican Super Hornets flew in tight formation.
Inside one cockpit, a pilot's radar screen lit up with targets.
"Acquiring target," he said calmly.
"Target locked."
He squeezed the trigger.
"Ripple, ripple, ripple."
Four missiles detached from each aircraft, streaking toward the battlefield. The jets banked sharply and turned away, already heading back to their carrier.
They did not look back.
They didn't need to.
That was BVR—Beyond Visual Range warfare.
The missiles won't miss.
---
700 Meters Below the Battlefield
The two Murican Ohio-class submarines lurked patiently and silently beneath the waves.
"Captain," the weapons officer reported, "tubes one through four are flooded. Awaiting orders."
The captain grinned.
"HAHAHAHA! FIRE ALL TUBES!"
"FIRING ALL TUBES!"
FWOOOOSH
Eight torpedoes surged forward, vanishing into the darkness.
---
Dwargonia Main Fleet, Super-Dreadnought Wavecrusher
"SIR!" an officer shouted.
"Our scouts report the enemy mechanical fleet has stopped firing at us and is launching smoke shells again!"
"What are they planning now…" the captain muttered.
Admiral Durnick said nothing.
He watched as the last ship of the Black Coast Fleet entered the fog and vanished.
He had sent them in knowing traps awaited.
But he had no other choice.
Then—
KABOOM
KABOOM
KABOOM
KABOOM
KABOOM
KABOOM
Explosions erupted from inside the fog.
Then more.
KABOOM
KABOOM
KABOOM
KABOOM
They didn't stop.
The detonations continued relentlessly for minutes.
No one could see what was happening.
No one could guess.
---
Above the Fog
The Ravendawn wyvern captain watched as the explosions finally ceased after several minutes.
"All units," he spoke into his comm, "the barrages are over. Mission accomplished. Retreat into the fog."
"YEAAAHHH!!"
"WOOHOOOOO!"
"I miss Bremen…"
Cheers and cries echoed across the channel as Avians and wyverns descended into the fog, vanishing from sight.
For the second time, the remaining Dwargonian air force could only watch—stunned and helpless.
---
Dwargonia Main Fleet, Super-Dreadnought Wavecrusher
Minutes passed.
Then silence.
No cannon fire.
No explosions.
No screams.
Fear crept across every face on the bridge.
"S-SIR!" an officer shouted. "Communications are back! We can reach our airships again!"
"Did the Black Coast destroy the jammer?" the captain asked.
"What about the Black Coast?" Durnick demanded. "Any report?"
"…No, sir," the officer replied weakly. "No ships responding."
The bridge froze.
Durnick's face darkened.
He already knew.
Another officer burst in.
"SIR! UPDATE FROM SCOUTS! The Ravendawn fleet is retreating!"
No one cheered.
"Should we pursue them?" the captain asked.
"…No," Durnick said quietly.
"Establish a defensive perimeter."
"And… what next, sir?"
"Nothing," Durnick replied.
"Search and rescue for survivors. Then we retreat."
He lowered his head.
"We've been defeated… by the Ravendawn."
---
Later, when the fog finally dispersed, the truth became clear.
The Black Coast Fleet was gone.
No ships survived, only drifting sailors holding on to debris.
Only during the search and rescue mission did the Dwargonian discover anti-ship mines layered throughout the fog. Many Dwargonian sailors appreciated that their admiral didn't push them to chase the Ravendawn.
Officially, they concluded the Black Coast Fleet had been completely annihilated by mines alone.
Only Admiral Durnick felt something else had defeated him.
Forty percent of the Dwargonian Grand Fleet was lost in what would be remembered as "The Battle of the Fog".
More than 9,000 dwarfs perished.
Ravendawn losses were minimal.
And Murica officially claimed—
They had not participated in this battle.