Afternoons are often good, both for the attackers and the defenders of the war.

It's not a rare sight to see hundreds of wild demonic bats circling and foraging in the demons' skies - these demons are not real bats, they are more accustomed to coming out during the day, and do not like to sneakily rely on ultrasound at night to act.

So, they're called demon bats only because they look like large bats.

Of course, because of this, when the aborigines of the Demon Realm saw countless black dots flying above their heads in the sky, the calmness they showed was actually far beyond the imagination of the Irlanhill Air Force.

Even this old industrial city does not even have a single thing like an air defense siren. The bell for the defense was not ringed either, because the defenders here knew that the nearest enemy was hundreds of kilometers away.

It's just that what these demons don't know is that these overwhelming black dots flying above their heads are actually carrying hundreds of tons of bombshells that symbolize death.

Inside the B-17 bomber, which was bumped in the air flow, the navigator saw the data displayed on his navigation equipment, he pressed the intercom and reported their position to the pilot: "We should already be over the target!" ”

"Yes! I see it! "The pilot looked through the glass window of the plane and saw the city emitting black smoke on the ground in the distance.

The chimneys, which are taller than the magic towers, look spectacular. Because buildings are generally tall, these chimneys had to be built higher to allow the smoke to move higher into the air.

It looks a little more advanced than the frontier of Irlanhill. At least there are dense smelters here to calcine all kinds of steel and build all kinds of huge war machines.

"Open the bomb bay!" The front-line commander, who was in charge of directing the bombardment, gave the prelude order to begin the assault. All the pilots turned on the bomb bay switches at their hands.

As a result, the entire bomber group began to descend in altitude, and one B-17 bomber after another began to open the bomb bays in their abdomen, exposing themselves to the chaotic air flow one after another.

Sunlight shone through the cracks in the opening of the bomb bay, making the graffiti on each bomb clear. These bombs are full of expletives greeting demonic relatives, and they are shameless and shameless.

However, when these postmodern art are densely concentrated to a certain extent, they do not emit a different kind of beauty. These bombs swaying in the wind and mounted in the bomb bay are witnessing the alternative cynicism of this cruel war with a kind of cynicism.

"Send them back to hell!" The bombardier saw the reticle of his crosshair pressed against a huge chimney and immediately pressed the button to drop the bomb.

It was one of the more comfortable air raids he had ever experienced, and the enemy did not have dense anti-aircraft artillery fire or annoying interceptor fighters.

Everything was peaceful, as if their enemies were not ready for war at all. But in fact, everyone knows that they have been fighting a war for thousands of years, and they still have no intention of ending this war.

Dense bombs scattered across the sky and rained down on the demonic city. At this time, finally the city's defense system began to work.

Several scattered fireballs flew into the sky, seemingly uninvited guests of some high-level demon using magic to attack these humans above their heads. At the same time, a huge magical defensive barrier slowly rose over the city.

Some of the bombs slammed into the rising magical defense barrier, like stones hitting the surface of the water, causing ripples. Then the bombs exploded, leaving the massive magical defense barrier so shattered that there was no way to close it.

The remaining bombs fell through the cracks into the interior of the city, and then played their role in the streets. The earth trembled in the explosion, and the building collapsed under the shock wave. There were screams and cries everywhere, flames and smoke everywhere.

Half of the massive war machine that was as large as a hill disintegrated in the explosion, and the huge wheels crushed the demonic workers who were nearby.

Before they could save their companions, the demons were crushed under the walls of the factory that had also fallen, and the rest of them fled in all directions, as if they had seen a shining cockroach.

It was as if it had been struck by a giant's hammer, and the entire city's defensive magic trembled and collapsed little by little. The tall walls could not prevent the catastrophe from falling from the sky, and the hundred-meter-high magic tower could easily break off at the waist, as fragile as a corn stalk.

One by one, the storage rooms full of various parts were engulfed in flames, and the various swords and axes that had been mass-produced were buried in the dust.

The shacks inhabited by the humble civilians became hotbeds of fire. Demons who have no awareness of firefighting and no complete firefighting and disaster prevention system cannot even do basic self-rescue in the face of man-made disasters.

Such a city can produce tens of thousands of weapons such as long swords and axes every day, and can also produce hundreds of various magical war machines, and the scale cannot be said to be insignificant.

But in just ten minutes, all production here was destroyed, and this is the terrible thing about strategic bombing.

It will take at least a few months for the demons who don't have much of a foundation to resume production here. But after a few months, it is unknown whether this place belongs to the demon or not.

The bell of defense is finally ringing, and the demonic civilians finally realize that war is close at hand for them. Because of the lack of information, most people here don't know that humans have entered the Demon Realm, and they can't guess that the enemy's airfield is less than 1,000 kilometers away from them.

"They don't even have a fighter, where did they get the courage to go to war with us?" A bombardier asked in a muttered mutter, removing his eyes from his sight.

"The devil knows what they think, maybe they don't have brains." In the intercom, a bored machine gunner answers the bombardier's self-talk.

"The reason why they dare to declare war on us is because a thousand years ago, we had nothing like them." The captain gently adjusted his joystick to keep his plane on the same trajectory as the other planes.