"Pray! For our enemies! Just as Karjus was saying the word prayer, Hartmann was speaking it in a secret camp on the outskirts of Poland.

Before his eyes, a brand-new Raven Jet was warming up its engines and preparing it for takeoff on a leveled asphalt runway.

It is a secret military base and a fairly well-established military airfield: there are the best runways, specially tailored for jets.

As the freshest and most fashionable weapon and equipment in 1941, the requirements of the jet fighter for the take-off and landing runway can be described as harsh.

Of course, this is also an important reason why the new weapons are so constrained: even the squeamish TA-152 fighter does not have as high runway requirements as the Raven Jet.

However, then again, the air combat performance of jet fighters, especially single-engine jet fighters, is definitely not comparable to piston fighters.

Germany's Raven fighter technology is very mature, relying on the performance index of flight speed alone, it can crush all piston fighters and dominate the sky.

As long as it is given enough height to climb to the airspace it is good at, the prey it is targeting will have only one path to death.

"If it's really that good." Standing beside Hartman was a thin young man with a smile on his face and a sunny look.

"Boom!" The test pilot accelerated the engine, roared, and then the Raven fighter began to taxi, leaving the ground at the end of the runway and rushing into the distant sky.

"Marseillo! The glide distance of this thing is estimated to be twice that of the TA-152 fighter. Seeing the crow soaring into the sky, Hartman said to the people around him.

"Yes! This shows that it's fast! Very fast! Marseilleu crossed his arms and stared intently at the plane in the distance.

The two young men were both ace pilots, and both of them shot down hundreds of fighters, and they were both well-regarded air combat stars in the Air Force.

The difference is not without it, Marseilleu served in North Africa and then was transferred to the Eastern Front, and his current record is a little higher than Hartman's.

Hartmann is probably the fastest young pilot to soar in record, and everyone thinks he will surpass Marseilleu to become the pilot with more records.

In a way, they're the kind of people who like airplanes more than good wine and cigarettes. So after the two of them lifted the canvas from the Raven fighter, they never took their eyes off this new fighter with black paint.

Again, their attention was still on the fighter in the distance. The roar of jet engines could still be heard in the sky, and the fighter had climbed into the sky to a height of several thousand meters.

"This climb speed can definitely exceed the TA-152 fighter! It can gain an advantage in the process and then reflexively teach the guy chasing it a lesson. Hartman exclaimed.

"There won't be a fool chasing after it, it's too fast, if it were me, I'd pull away immediately to avoid pursuit." Marseyu didn't take his eyes off the Raven Fighter, and subconsciously reminded him.

While the two were talking, the display Raven fighter had climbed to a very high place. Standing on the ground, it's a small black dot in the sky.

Then, right there, the crow swooped down, accompanied by the roar of its engines, at an unprecedented speed, towards the F-190 fighter that was playing the prey in the distance.

When it was too late, the Raven showed good speed performance, rubbing shoulders with the prey F-190 fighter at close range.

As the saying goes, the layman looks at the liveliness, and the insiders look at the doorway. All the pilots who came to see the new plane, including Marseilleu and Hartmann, knew what that moment meant.

On the real battlefield, that brief moment of passing by is a very fatal opportunity to open fire.

The pursued F-190 would have been shattered to pieces in a split second, and it wouldn't even have time to make a dodge move.

"I bet that the Raven fighter had a speed of at least 800 kilometers per hour in the dive just now!" A pilot, who was also looking up at the sky, exclaimed in surprise.

Hartman, who was very sensitive to speed, looked at the Raven fighter that was climbing again, shook his head and said softly: "At least 820 kilometers!" That's faster than the TA-152 fighter......"

"yes, I guess it's about 820 kilometers, maybe 830, who knows. But as long as it exceeds 800 kilometers, it is the fastest guy in the sky. Marseilleu agreed.

In this era, the opponents of German pilots were generally equipped with fighters that flew at a measly fast speed of only about 500 kilometers. Even the most advanced experimental aircraft in the United States can only fly at a speed of about 650 kilometers.

Therefore, the flight speed of the TA-152 fighter is enough for the vast majority of aerial dogfights.

And the Raven, this era-spanning fighter, brought the Luftwaffe pilots the thrill of crushing.

They just need to fly to a high enough altitude and dive towards the target. They can shake off all enemies without worrying about their backs......

With the roar of the engine, the Raven fighter once again returned to its most familiar altitude, at an altitude of about 8,000 meters, it was an invincible existence.

Even at an altitude of more than 10,000 meters, this fighter has good handling and can calmly intercept enemy high-altitude bombers, such as the B-17 or the subsequent B-29 strategic bomber.

Then, in the shocked eyes of everyone, the plane began a series of flight displays. Sometimes it rolls, sometimes it hovers, like an eagle patrolling its territory.

"We're here to fly these planes, right?" One of the pilots looked enviously at the Raven fighter overhead and muttered a question.

"That's right! That's where we learned to fly this fighter...... That's good. Marseilleu also tilted his head and replied subconsciously.

Hartman, who was standing beside him, was equally fascinated, looking forward to the future of flying the Raven fighter in the sky.

He was so eager for this that he said, "Once we fly this kind of fighter, the fun of air combat is gone." ”

"Yes, you don't need any skills, it's enough to just rely on the crushing of the weapon's performance." Marseilleu, who came back to his senses, agreed with some loneliness.