Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

Chapter 213: The Power of the New Arsenal



The crisp morning air was charged with anticipation as Vincent stood at the center of the airfield, flanked by Brandt and the officers overseeing the preparations. The metallic hum of aircraft engines and the distant sounds of the sea provided a powerful backdrop. Vincent's gaze swept over the three formidable bombers parked on the tarmac and the colossal silhouette of the Iowa-Class Battleship anchored offshore. This was the moment to put his acquisitions through their paces.

"Begin test procedures," Vincent commanded, his voice steady.

Technicians in fatigues and mechanics clad in oil-streaked uniforms sprang into action. The B-1 Bomber was first on the checklist. Its variable-sweep wings adjusted as the engines revved to life, emitting a deep, resonant rumble. Soldiers shielded their ears as the bomber moved down the runway, gathering speed until it ascended smoothly into the clear blue sky. The sleek, angular shape of the aircraft cut through the air, its engines leaving a low, thunderous echo in its wake.

"B-1 at altitude," came the voice of the pilot over the radio.

"Proceed with target run," Vincent instructed.

The B-1 Bomber looped around the island, gaining momentum before it aligned with the mock target range set up at the far end of the island. A series of large, reinforced targets stood there, representing demon encampments. The bomber dropped its payload, a sequence of inert bombs that streaked downward with a whistling sound. A moment of silence followed before the ground quaked under a cascade of controlled explosions. Clouds of dirt and smoke billowed into the air, dissipating to reveal a devastated test range.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Direct hits on all targets," an observer confirmed, binoculars in hand.

Vincent nodded, satisfaction rippling through him. "Good. Commence the next phase." The B-2 Bomber was up next. Its dark, wing-like structure shimmered as it rolled forward, nearly silent despite its power. The gathered troops murmured in awe, many seeing such advanced technology for the first time. It took off without a hitch, its radar-evading form soon disappearing into the distance. Vincent watched the display screen, tracking the bomber's path.

"Target locked. Releasing payload," the pilot announced.

The silence that followed was eerie. The first indication of the strike was the sharp, simultaneous impacts that rocked the targets. This time, precise laser-guided munitions split the air, each one striking with pinpoint accuracy. The detonations that followed were brief but powerful, reducing the targeted zone to smoldering craters.

"Stealth capability and targeting systems are functioning flawlessly," Brandt observed, marking notes with a confident stroke.

The tension eased slightly, and the murmurs among the troops shifted to excitement. The B- 52 Stratofortress rumbled to life next. Its eight engines thundered as it lumbered down the runway. This aircraft, legendary for its ability to carry vast payloads, lifted off steadily, cutting an imposing figure against the sky.

"Prepare for long-range bombardment test," Vincent directed.

"Commencing," came the pilot's steady voice.

The B-52 circled high above, releasing an array of practice ordnance. A trail of small, gleaming bombs cascaded from its open bay, falling in tight, deliberate waves. The ground erupted in a staggered pattern, each blast sending shockwaves through the camp. Soldiers braced against the force as the explosions shattered the morning calm. Smoke rose in gray plumes, marking the power of sustained bombardment.

"Duration and spread are within expected parameters," Brandt confirmed, his eyes scanning the data on a tablet.

The airfield was filled with a blend of awe and approval, a testament to their commander's foresight and resources. But the test was far from over. Vincent turned his attention to the sea, where the mighty Iowa-Class Battleship awaited its cue.

A metallic groan echoed as the battleship's main 16-inch guns shifted and locked onto a new set of ocean-based targets. The first salvo burst forth with an ear-splitting crack, the shells streaking through the sky before they hit the water with colossal splashes that shot geysers into the air. Seconds later, a shockwave rippled through the bay, making the water heave and -churn.

"Primary cannon strike effective," reported the naval officer onboard. "Adjusting for secondary missile launch."

The sleek Tomahawk missiles mounted on the deck launched one after another, their engines igniting with bright flashes. They arced gracefully over the island before descending in a swift, deadly plunge. The impact sites exploded in synchronized flashes of orange and black, the missiles obliterating their designated targets.

From the airfield, soldiers exchanged glances, their eyes wide with the realization of what they were witnessing. This was not just a test; it was the declaration of a new era in warfare.

The final test was a coordinated maneuver. Vincent spoke into the radio, "Begin formation and integrated strike test. B-1, B-2, and B-52, engage in a simulated joint operation."

"Yes, Commander," came the confident reply from the pilots.

The three bombers converged in the sky, flying in formation. The B-1 took point, flanked by the B-2 on its left and the B-52 on its right. They lined up for a unified strike over a large designated area of the sea, marked with buoys and dummy installations. The signal was given, and they released their ordnance simultaneously. The sky seemed to erupt as streams of payloads fell, creating a symphony of power that resonated across the island.

The sea boiled with the force of the impact, waves surging outward in towering crests. The smoke and fire dissipated slowly, leaving behind shattered buoys and debris. Even from the airfield, the scale of destruction was evident.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the soldiers. For the first time in weeks, they felt a tangible shift in their morale. Vincent turned to Brandt, who was beaming.

"We're ready," Vincent said, his voice carrying a note of finality. "This war will no longer be fought on our soil alone."

Brandt nodded, his eyes glinting with the same determination that drove his commander. "Let's take the fight to them."

The test had proven what Vincent had hoped for: their offensive power was no longer a promise but a reality. The island, once a defensive stronghold, was now the launching point for a new campaign, one that would bring the fight to the demons and end their reign of

terror.

As the soldiers dispersed to prepare for the next phase, Vincent took a long, steady breath. The battle had changed. And with it, so had their fate.

***

The airfield was buzzing with activity after the successful tests of their new arsenal. Soldiers moved with purpose, exchanging excited glances and nods. For weeks, they had been defending Akarios Island with everything they had. Now, with the new bombers and the battleship, the mood had shifted. They were no longer just defending-they were getting ready to attack.

Vincent watched the soldiers with a sense of pride. The B-1, B-2, and B-52 bombers, now parked on the airfield, looked imposing. Their tests had gone well, and everyone knew what that meant. The Iowa-Class Battleship out on the water was a sight to behold. Its massive guns and missile launchers promised power that would make any enemy think twice. Brandt, one of Vincent's trusted officers, walked up to him. "Commander, the tests were better than expected. The men are ready for what's next."

Vincent nodded. "Good. We need to keep this momentum. Get the flight crews ready for training runs. I want everyone familiar with these aircraft. The battleship crew needs to run drills too. We need to be prepared to launch coordinated strikes as soon as possible." "Understood, sir," Brandt said, turning to relay the orders to the nearby officers.

Mechanics and engineers were already at work, checking the planes and ensuring everything was in top shape. Tools clanked, and the air smelled of oil and metal. The soldiers nearby watched, some still amazed at the sight of the bombers that had just performed their test

runs.

"Those bombers are going to change everything," one soldier said to another, awe clear in his

voice.

Vincent overheard and felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew the demons wouldn't sit back

and let them build up without a response. They needed to act fast. The enemy's supply lines and key positions were going to be their first targets. Taking those out would shift the

balance.

The sound of the B-1 Bomber returning from its final loop caught Vincent's attention. The aircraft descended smoothly, landing with a deep rumble. The B-2 and B-52 followed, each greeted by cheers as they touched down. Soldiers clapped each other on the back, smiles breaking the tension that had been their constant companion. Brandt returned to Vincent's side. "Commander, what's our next step?"

Vincent didn't hesitate. "We start planning the first strikes. Bring in the intelligence officers and strategists. We need maps, current enemy positions, and details on their strongholds."

"Yes, sir," Brandt said and headed off to gather the team.

Vincent took another look at the powerful machines they now had. The B-1 with its speed, the stealthy B-2, the heavy-hitting B-52, and the battleship out on the water-they were more than just machines. They were their ticket to taking control of this war.