As Dirty as Possible
The operation was going to be as dirty as possible.
War was never a simple game or pastime, and it was certainly no sport with established rules.
It was… a desperate struggle for survival.
One's own life. One's family, comrades, and country. Even the lives of all humanity.
And so, within that horrific and merciless act where everything hung in the balance, any action—any means whatsoever—was permitted in the name of victory.
Actions others might point at as cowardly. Acts they might deem too cruel. Atrocities so vile that calling you a demon would not be nearly enough.
And above all, when the enemy was not human but monsters starved for slaughter, none of this needed further argument.
Creatures that had to be annihilated by every means available, without exception.
Against foes like that, mounting an operation that invited accusations of cowardice, cruelty, or underhandedness was only natural—and anyone who would criticize it deserved to be thrown straight into the midst of those Abysses.
And… from that perspective, the operation I had devised this time was so thoroughly filthy that if the Abysses marching toward us were capable of normal communication, they would surely be raining dual-barreled curses down on my head.
And of course, I had not a shred of reason to feel any guilt about it.
Fighter squadrons cut across the open sky.
These were not the hunters who had collapsed from eight days of relentless overwork. These aircraft were piloted by hunters who had been eating and resting relatively well in the meantime, their stamina kept fully topped off—and the jets moved without so much as a tremor.
Unlike the usual bomb-laden sorties, these craft carried only machine guns.
But the Abyss hordes already advancing on the defensive line had long since passed beneath them. More importantly, their target lay somewhere else entirely.
And a short while later, just as expected, those targets came into view.
The hunters piloting the fighters from the base reported at once to the adjutant in command.
"Targets acquired. Commencing the operation."
"Understood. Proceed immediately."
The moment authorization came through, the hunters' hands moved, opening the fighters' gun ports.
And then—
TADADADADADA!!!
The fighters began spitting fire toward the ground.
At the same instant, the targets reacted—and the hunters immediately moved into the next phase of the operation.
In that moment… the same thing was unfolding not only here, but everywhere else as well.
…Gulp…
The vast army of Abysses came into view.
From the crest of the ridge where the defensive line was positioned, the hunters stationed there looked down at the black tide that had flooded all the way to the base of the slope—and automatically swallowed dry.
"God, that's a disgusting number of them."
"A force this size has to be the biggest we've ever seen, right?"
"There are so many Middle-class ones you couldn't even count them, and Upper-class Abysses are everywhere."
"And unlike every other time when they just charged in blindly, they've actually formed ranks—tanks up front, damage-dealers in the rear."
"Seriously. The formation alone is bad enough, but just looking at that dizzying scale… if we'd been standing here without an operation plan, I don't think I could have held it together with a clear head."
The women who had taken the defensive role in the previous operation had, of course, already received a full overview of this one from their respective adjutants.
Even to hunters who were not particularly well-versed in strategy and tactics, the plan had sounded solid enough—and that was what allowed them to hold their ground against an Abyss army several times their own number.
But whatever the tactics ahead might be, their job in this moment was simple: stop that monstrous black wave from cresting the ridge.
The hunters fought to keep their composure, tightening their grips on their weapons.
And then the adjutants' voices came through in their ears.
"All units, prepare to fire."
Following the order, the hunters loaded their weapons and took aim at the enemy.
Most of the B-class hunters here were using KH-3 rifles—capable of single shot, burst, and full automatic fire, with each round packing the punch of a sniper rifle. The ammunition was armor-piercing, powerful enough to punch clean through an armored vehicle. And every hunter on the line had their weapon set to full auto.
"Open fire!"
TADADADADADADA!!!!!
A storm of rounds tore outward in a deafening roar.
Even that barrage did little real damage to the tank-type Abysses at the front—but honestly, that was nothing to worry about.
This was not a battle on open plains. This was a ridge, where the defending side could pour fire down from above with unilateral advantage. Even with tanks arrayed at the front, shooting past them into the ranks behind was hardly a problem.
Moreover, for all the thought the Abysses had put into their formation, it still carried one critical flaw.
The Abysses positioned at the front might have been tough—but that toughness came at the cost of relative speed.
Slow was relative, of course; they still moved about as fast as an elephant or a rhinoceros. But they were nowhere near the blistering mobility of a wolf or a cheetah.
And the hunters, briefed on this fact beforehand by their adjutants, began preparing the next attack exactly as planned.
"Group Two, ready to fire!"
At the adjutants' command, A-class hunters standing behind those already pouring fire from the front line raised their weapons and took aim.
What they held looked less like guns and more like cannons—not standard portable arms, but weapons only a defending force could afford to field: pure firepower, mobility be damned. Gripping high-caliber ordnance built around dual 28-centimeter naval guns and other heavy weapons of that class, they calmly leveled their barrels at the enemy below.
And then—
"Fire!"
KWA-GWA-GWA-GWA-GWANG!!!
Shells screamed out on an explosion of sound that made the earlier gunfire seem trivial, and slammed into the bodies of the tank-type Abysses pushing up from the front.
"KUUWOOOOAAARR!!!"
Ordinary bullets might not have scratched them—but that only applied to small arms. Against artillery with enough raw power to reshape the terrain itself, even defense-specialized Middle-class Abysses had no hope of holding out.
One volley, and the majority of the tank-types were annihilated. At the same time, their corpses and the residual blast force crashed down over the Abyss ranks pressed tight behind them, dealing a wave of secondary damage.
But even so—
For all the devastation of that single strike, it was not enough to swing the battle decisively in their favor. The Abysses still stretched on without end, and true to the reports of their intelligence, they began adapting their assault on the fly.
Apparently recognizing that leading with tanks was useless, they switched to a charge spearheaded by their fastest units.
The B-class hunters opened up with their rifles again, straining to hold the line, while the A-class hunters likewise poured high-caliber shells into the oncoming tide with everything they had.
"Western Sector A is in danger! Redirect supporting fire!"
"Weapons switch! Cease heavy artillery and switch to machine guns! Given their mobility, that'll be more efficient!"
The adjutants directed their units in a frenzy.
Less than an hour into the fighting, and the allied situation was already far from good.
The Abysses were exploiting their overwhelming numbers to the fullest, pressing the attack without pause. Their first push had failed—but every moment after that, they corrected their own weaknesses and probed for the allies', forcing the defenders to account for more and more variables by the second.
And so, despite every prior warning, the adjutants found themselves once again recognizing—just as clearly as the hunters on the field—exactly how terrifying these unusual Abysses truly were.
Yet even as the battle turned against them, not a trace of despair or defeat showed on their faces.
It was not vague hope or empty wishing. It was something that felt grounded—something with a reason behind it.
And in that moment, from the mouth of Adjutant Haeun—who had been watching the screens more desperately than anyone else present—a voice suddenly burst out.
"They're… here!"