This Game Is Too Realistic

"In the name of the Gods"

"For His Majesty!"

"For the kingdom! At all costs, hold the line!"

Smoke covered the riverbank, and boiling flames burned over blood and corpses.

Covered in blood, the commander let out a hoarse cry, waving his military saber to urge the soldiers forward to fill the bloody frontline.

Even though his legs had been blown off, he did not stop shouting.

Because the fortress beneath him was known as the City of Abundance.

It was not only the granary of the Lion Kingdom, a blessing given by the gods to the kingdom, but also the last barrier on the Falcon Kingdom's road to the Lion Kingdom's capital!

...

Several hours earlier...

The Falcon Kingdom's 20,000-strong army finally completed the fortification and, to everyone's surprise, immediately launched a fierce attack on the City of Abundance from both the west and north.

The Lion Kingdom would not surrender without a fight.

Under the leadership of Prince Wint, the stationed Scarab Corps of 10,000 and the militia immediately mounted a tenacious resistance.

Whether it was cast iron cannons, old mortars, or makeshift howitzers... All were pulled to the front line to stop the enemy's advance.

Even if it only delayed them for two seconds, it didn't matter!

The propellers of aerial warplanes roared, raining down death upon the riverbank, but they couldn't stop the artillery from pouring fierce firepower into their enemies.

Thousands of fortress defenders were sent in unit by unit, as were the besieging troops outside the fortress.

Even with absolute air superiority.

Even as the artillery at the rear bombarded ceaselessly.

Even as the riverbank defenders were annihilated round after round, they could not breach the Levee. The battle quickly became a stalemate.

Both sides, blinded by rage, discarded humanity and faith, fighting in the most primitive and brutal ways, just to send more scorching metal shrapnel into the brains and chests of their former brethren.

The impregnable riverbank had become a rolling meat grinder.

Shards and shockwaves from explosions spread in rings, rolling bloody waves over the golden wheat fields. Sitting in the cockpit of his plane, Akant couldn't help but be amazed.

Not by the gruesome battle, but by the golden expanses.

At his home, near a nearly dried-up riverbank, he had never seen such vast and magnificent wheat fields.

If they could take the City of Abundance, his parents, siblings, and future descendants... Surely wouldn't have to endure hunger anymore.

Though that meant the occupied residents would struggle to live in poverty and suffering, and though it meant they would become slaves, he didn't think there was anything wrong with it.

The world was a jungle where the strong preyed on the weak. Survival of the fittest was the natural order.

The prince once said that the Falcon Kingdom's oasis was declining. They bore the curse from the great desert for the desert kings, yet the desert kings turned a blind eye to their suffering, preferring to dump milk and bread rather than share a bit of divine grace with them.

The kings who have given up their vows and faith do not deserve the grace of the Spirit of the Desert.

The Falcon Kingdom had to fight to survive in this world. They would keep fighting until the end of their life!

Akant gripped the stick before him, ready to pull up the plane for another dive with the 10mm machine guns at the artillery shelters by the riverbank.

But just then, from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a string of black dots from the sun to his side.

That direction... Is that the east?!

Looking into the light made it hard to see exactly what those black dots were, making him even suspect he was seeing things.

However, instincts honed in numerous battles immediately made him judge to abort the next dive, continuing to climb toward the clouds.

It turned out his judgment was correct, which allowed him to dodge the first round of bullets.

Unfortunately, his teammates weren't so lucky.

In just a few breaths, those strings of black dots had flown up close, revealing their shark, tiger, and devil-painted noses under the sunlight, spitting long tongues of fire.

There were no enemy airfields nearby. The Falcon Kingdom's pilots hadn't expected an aerial assault, thus were caught completely off-guard.

Unprepared, three Falcon propeller planes were instantly turned into sieves, their wings riddled with bullet holes, billowing black smoke as they plummeted to the ground.

22 other planes still suffered serious damage even though they evaded they best they could. Three more planes were quickly lost again.

Seeing his teammates perish, Akant's face turned pale, and he immediately yelled into his communication channel, "Enemy planes!"

"Stop ground attacks, prepare to engage!"

The remaining 19 planes immediately dispersed, pulling up while turning to the sides, trying to evade the pursuers tightly on their tails. However, the opponents' flying skills were equally exquisite. They were well-coordinated and well-trained.

Watching a target performing evasive maneuvers within his crosshair, Unprofessional Retort snorted through his snout and stuck close to his enemy's rear. "Trying to run?"

Fuck... If I let you get away now... This grandaddy will write his name backwards!

Pressing the switch on the his VM, he yelled loudly, "Spread out and pursue! Take one per person, hit them hard!"

The communication channel quickly echoed, "Got it, Brother Retard!"

"Received, Retard"

Unprofessional Retort nearly veered off course from all the yelling. "Damn! How many times have I said, call me Unprofessional or Retort! I'm not called a Retard!"

25 propeller fighter planes of an unknown model tenaciously clung on, with five splitting off to encircle them from the other side. The aerial battle quickly escalated into intense action.

Although initially caught off-guard, the Falcon Kingdom's pilots quickly recovered, using the Falcon propeller planes' excellent maneuverability to engage the suddenly intruding enemy planes in horizontal dogfights.

Without air-to-air missiles, aerial combat turned entirely into a close-quarters melee. Both sides performed scissor rolls, competing for fleeting shooting opportunities.

The sky was sprinkled with orange-yellow bullet rain, like sparks striking on an anvil, forging every soul caught in it.

Sweat seeped from Akant's forehead as his hands grabbed the stick before him. His clenched teeth nearly bleeding his gums.

He could feel that the enemy planes were not very strong, but their tactics were extremely vicious, and their combat will was unbelievably high.

Some extremely dangerous maneuvers made him wonder whether the opponents didn't know they could die, or simply didn't care about their lives.

Were these the Lion Kingdom's pilots? Or were they from the New Alliance hundreds of kilometers away?

As the outcome of the air battle remained undecided, the ground situation had subtly shifted with the arrival of the New Alliance's air force.

Originally, the balance of victory had gradually tilted towards the attackers, but with the loss of air superiority, the tilted scales were forcibly bent back.

The Falcon Kingdom's 20,000-strong vanguard quickly found itself in a tough battle.

Conversely, seeing support from allied planes, the defenders' morale soared. Many loud cries could be heard.

"It's the reinforcements!"

"The New Alliance's reinforcements! It's the people of the New Alliance! Oh, oh, oh!"

"Spirit of the Desert above... We are saved!"

Not only did the soldiers see hope of victory, but even the officers in the command post showed joyful expressions, clearing the gloomy faces from minutes ago.

The Alliance's reinforcements had finally arrived!

Although only the air force came, they proved to be of great help!

The only thing the officers couldn't understand was where those planes had come from.

...

On the frontlines.

Behind the anti-cannon shelters, Prince Wint held binoculars, peering through an observation window in the sandbag wall at the distant, smoke-engulfed battlefield. His brows furrowed together.

Although the unexpected arrival of New Alliance's planes had turned their situation around, it was still grim for them.

With the Army's help, the Falcon Kingdom had been preparing for the battle for over a decade. Their equipment and soldier quality far exceeded the Lion Kingdom.

The continuous sound of distant artillery was proof enough.

The loss of air support didn't make those people retreat. Instead, their assault became even more fierce.

His Scarab Corps of 10,000 had already lost 20% of their numbers, and the local garrisoned militia and drafted soldiers had suffered even heavier casualties. Blood nearly dyed the riverbank red, flowing into the irrigation channels below...

"If this keeps up, even if we successfully hold this fortress, we're likely to be severely weakened," said a noble serving as an advisor, standing next to Prince Wint. He maintained a grave expression on his face.

Another officer clenched his fists and cursed, "These beasts... It's like they can't be killed!

"We must hold this place at all costs. We are the kingdom's last wall and we have no other choice." Holding the binoculars, Prince Wint paused, his face expressionless as he continued, "If they're so determined to take this fortress, let them bleed dry on the riverbank!"

Just then, a billowing cloud of dust suddenly arose on the northwest side of the fortress, and accompanying the dust came an unstoppable torrent of steel!

About 50 Conqueror 10 heavy tanks suddenly entered the battlefield.