Northern front.
Against the boundless clear sky, a towering steel airship broke through the clouds, revealing the bridge gondola suspended beneath its prow.
Looking down at the sunken wilderness and the overlapping mountain ranges, Commander Lioum's lips curled slightly upward as he sat inside the bridge.
He tossed his ice pop stick to the attendant standing nearby, pushed himself up from the armrests, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window of the bridge, narrowing his eyes as he looked down at Ten Peaks Mountain, now close at hand.
Eighty li of bone-strewn road?
Ridiculous.
On their turf, opponents of this caliber only needed one bombing run followed by one charge.
If that wasn't enough, they could simply repeat the process.
It might not work so well against slime molds that multiplied the more they fought, but it was more than enough against mutants.
"...Too slow. If we wait for those snails to inch their way forward, this war may drag on until next year. I say we fly straight over Ten Peaks Mountain and wipe out those cultists' nest in one go."
Hearing his superior's words, the adjutant standing behind Lioum gave a light cough and hurriedly reminded him.
"General, it would be best if we did not break away from the main force."
Lioum let out a chuckle.
"With this handful of mutants, do you think they can take down our airship?"
This was not a reckless decision born of courage without thought.
No matter what advanced technology the Torch possessed, the mutants on this mountain needed food and ammunition, and all of it had to be delivered from the Sea Cliff Province.
As long as they could cut off those bastards' logistical supplies, starvation alone would kill more than half of them.
The adjutant understood what he meant, but