"...This is Flying Fox. We've reached the target airspace!"
"Get to work! I don't want to miss lunch today. Damn it, those chowhounds from Wandering Swamp eat like starving ghosts reborn. Have they never had meat before?!"
"Haha! Maybe they really couldn't get any back home!"
"The morning 'wontons' were pretty good, I think that's what they were called—"
"Quit screwing around. Keep your eyes on your targets."
"Roger!"
The western side of Broken Blade Mountain.
Twelve Dragonfly ornithopters beat their wings, carrying missiles loaded beneath their hardpoints as they swept menacingly around one side of the mountain.
At the same time, three mercenary infantry companies had completed their assembly and launched an offensive from the north.
It was eight in the morning.
And during the hour before that, their allied forces had already poured at least five hundred 155mm heavy shells onto the mountain, scouring every spot they could reach.
As though they had sensed the coming assault, the mutants on the mountain had long since prepared themselves. Their vicious eyes stared fixedly down the slopes as they gripped an assortment of weapons, ready to teach these humans who didn't know their place a lesson.
The mercenaries below were the same.
They had come here from the distant Cloud Province for one reason: to slaughter these green-skinned freaks.
For the qualifications to live in Utopia City, and for the generous reward!
The instant both sides caught sight of one another, visible sparks seemed to fly—
Mercenary leader: "Fire—!"
Mutant centurion: "Chop them to pieces!!"
The two roars rang out almost simultaneously, and dazzling flashes and flying tracers instantly erupted between the sheer cliffs.
Amid the storm of gunfire, a mercenary took a large-caliber slug in the chest. The blood-soaked ballistic inserts shattered across the ground, blood spilling from his