Preemptive Strike

Hundreds of kilometers from New City, deep within an Alliance military base, a silver-haired general bearing the rank insignia of a shoulder epaulet stood surveying the amassed fleet of fighter jets. Nearly every aircraft from the entire Nordic region was gathered here—close to a hundred top-tier standard-issue Alliance fighters neatly arrayed across the sprawling airfield.

The silver-haired general puffed on a cigar, eyes fixed on the formidable force before him, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He fully grasped the enormity of the mission entrusted to him: to deliver a devastating blow to the X Legion stationed in New City hundreds of kilometers away. This cluster of fighters represented his crucial strike force. Yet, deep within, unease gnawed at him as he meticulously studied the dossiers of the X Legion's key commanders.

Legion Commander Rice: Fourth-level flame evolution, helming the X Mercenary Corps for over a decade, the core leader of the X Legion.

Deputy Commander White: Power evolution, precise level unknown, a seasoned and cunning freelance hunter.

Deputy Commander K: Eighth-level metal evolution, boss of the Kill Organization, commanding a cadre of uniquely gifted psychics, a master of meticulous strategy and assassination.

Infantry Division Commander Ivy: No psychic evolution, but an exceptionally accurate marksman.

Air Combat Division Commander Brada: A corpulent yet brilliant tactician, wielding great influence within the X Legion.

…

The general had also reviewed the dossiers of the other X Legion officers, but what troubled him most was the figure of Xiao Feng—though holding no formal rank within the Legion, his counsel wielded immense sway over its decisions.

Moreover, Xiao Feng's close-knit team—all unofficial members yet individually formidable—was a force unto itself, capable of challenging an entire division.

Rush, an eighth-level psychic evolutionist; the heavily armed and ferocious Stray Dog; Pandora, a mechanical warrior rivaling a tenth-level psychic in combat prowess; Qin Tian, a mysterious new recruit with no available records; and a towering giant for whom Xiao Feng had custom-designed a terrifyingly powerful weapon system, surpassing even Stray Dog's ferocity.

These six were the most vexing adversaries—each nearly surpassing the eighth-level threshold, their prowess having nearly eradicated members of the Temple itself. Were it not for Zeus's resurrection powers, many would have vanished from the Earth entirely.

The silver-haired general's mind churned with the endless details of these individuals. To him, this coalition was even more formidable than the Temple's Seven Gods, representing the gravest threat to the Alliance forces.

As the core leader of the Alliance, he understood one truth clearly: every one of these men must be eliminated, or they would forever haunt them.

Yet as worry crept over him, an acute sense of crisis suddenly seized him—a premonition honed by decades of military service. His gaze swept the skies, and hastily, he seized his communicator, contacting the command center: "Any suspicious aircraft detected within base airspace?"

"None. All normal."

"How can that be…" The general's voice trailed off as a sudden turbulence rippled the sky. His eyes widened in disbelief. Out of thin air, a fighter jet materialized.

A colossal black aircraft, twice the size of a standard fighter, hovered there. Rubbing his eyes, the general confirmed the reality of the enormous engine-laden craft shaped like a black dagger.

Emblazoned on its hull was the emblem of the X Legion—an 'X' forged from twin dragons.

With a roar of fury, the silver-haired general bellowed, "Shoot down that plane in the sky!"

But it was already too late.

Inside the cockpit sat the giant, helmet fully sealed, a sinister chuckle escaping his lips. "Little chicks, taste my cannons—tremble…"

He pressed a crimson button on the control stick. Beneath the dagger-shaped fuselage, twin quad-barreled rapid-fire machine guns erupted with a hailstorm of fire, each shell about twenty centimeters long, raining down like a violent storm.

Scorching rounds pierced through the fighter jets lined on the tarmac, triggering a chain reaction of explosions.

The meticulously aligned aircraft detonated like strings of firecrackers, bursting from the dagger's point of impact outward in rapid succession.

The giant's black dagger fighter was a mechanical reaper, swiftly annihilating the Alliance's air fleet.

Amidst the explosions, dozens of pilots emerged from the barracks, sprinting toward their jets, but it was futile. Within a mere minute, the giant's devastating firepower had obliterated the entire cluster.

Cheerful, the giant reported back to the X Legion command center, "Mission accomplished. Requesting extraction."

Commander Rice, watching the colossal screen, was astounded beyond belief. The black dagger fighter piloted by the giant wielded such overwhelming destructive power that it had decimated the very force he feared in barely a minute—like a surreal dream.

Swallowing hard, Rice ordered, "Return to base."

The giant smiled. "Roger." He pressed a button on the control panel, and amidst the inferno consuming the Alliance base, the aircraft suddenly vanished.

The silver-haired general, staring at the blazing ruins, crushed his cigar into fine fragments, so fierce were the sparks that they singed his palm, though he felt no pain. His face was twisted in rage as he hurled the ruined cigar to the ground. "Damn it. Damn it… damn it…"

He glanced around at the frantic air force soldiers, bellowing, "What are you waiting for? Put out the fire—now!"

…

Minutes after the giant's devastating assault on the Alliance fighter cluster, at another Alliance base, a massive transport plane soared high—over ten thousand meters above.

Its pilot connected to the X Legion command center: "Reporting to command, the 'Fat Pig' has arrived at the target. Requesting deployment…"