What happened on the ground west of the Wei River was nothing less than a massacre.
The air cavalrymen who had received their orders circled above the Wei River, monitoring the movements of the Winged Devils within the Devil Race army. Xuanyuan Fortress and the several battle forts above their heads remained utterly unmoved, as if they had never noticed what was happening on the ground.
Before Zhang Tie's eyes, more than ten million Hua Clan civilians died on the land below.
The deaths of those ten million people had cleared a "safe corridor" over a thousand kilometers long and more than forty kilometers wide for the Devil Race army. Every land mine along that corridor had been cleared by the Hua Clan civilians...
Apart from Zhang Tie, none of the other air cavalrymen knew what was happening on the ground.
Zhang Tie did not know how he had flown back to the 46th Air Cavalry Regiment. Though he was in the sky, his mind was filled with the miserable scenes below—the despairing tears, the land where mud and flesh had become indistinguishable, the tragic wails and cries of countless people. Like razor-sharp knives, they shredded Zhang Tie's soul, nearly suffocating him beneath that tide of despair surging up from the earth...
That was a living hell.
This was the true cruelty of the Holy War.
Like a conditioned reflex, like instinct itself, Zhang Tie numbly operated the aircraft, bringing it back down onto First Battalion's runway. He parked it in its berth, shut down the engine, opened the canopy, and climbed out like a walking corpse...
A crowd had already gathered before Zhang Tie's parking berth. The air cavalrymen from First Battalion who had landed earlier had all rushed over, wanting to see whether something had happened to their