In the midst of crisis, Abyssal Yamato's thoughts had never been clearer.
What should she do? Should she move in to finish off those shipgirls?
A shiver ran down her spine. Impossible—she herself was already heavily damaged, with no strength left to spare.
Surely Abyssal Musashi and the others would be entering the battlefield any moment now. All she needed to do was hold out for a little longer.
At that instant, she remembered the honor of being an Abyssal flagship. Resolutely, she surfaced from the stormy sea to command the other Abyssals in finishing off the four-girl squad.
The humiliation of fleeing—never again would she endure it! Besides, if she tried to run toward Abyssal Musashi, there was a real chance that Musashi, in her fury, would sink her on the spot.
Breaking through the gale and rain, Abyssal Yamato lifted her gaze—and saw the horizon blanketed by tens of thousands of Abyssal aircraft carpeting the skies, rushing to intercept the hundred-plus hero planes.
More Abyssal aircraft poured in from the rear.
For the moment, she was safe from airstrikes.
Yamato exhaled in relief, straightening as she turned to glance back. Most of the Abyssal flagships remained intact—only one appeared to have sunk.
Even one was terrifying enough. That had been a level 100 Abyssal flagship, destroyed in a single air raid!
Yamato was certain: even a level 100 Abyssal carrier flagship, or even an Abyssal Airfield Princess, couldn't match the bombardment power of the shipgirls from that base.
It wasn't just the difference in aircraft quality. Even with the same planes, Yamato was convinced the enemy carriers would still hold absolute superiority.
Their planes struck with inconceivable power, their control flawless, their coordination seamless. All one could do was gape in awe.
Monsters!
Yamato cursed inwardly, then noticed Abyssal Zumwalt's anxious expression. She quickly barked out:
"Sink those pests!"
But Zumwalt was already shouting:
"Missiles! Watch the missiles!"
—
Back at the base, Lexington opened her eyes, staring toward the raging battle in the northwest.
The storm had been blasted away by the bombing runs.
"Abyssal Yamato has exposed a massive weak point. She's the Commander's target. I wonder if Bismarck's squad can seize the chance."
Hearing Lexington's murmur, Prince of Wales swirled her glass of red wine and spoke coolly:
"They will complete the Commander's vision no matter the cost. Besides, that Abyssal Yamato is a disgrace among the Abyssals. The sooner she dies, the better."
"Let's hope so." Lexington shook her head, then issued her orders:
"Do not recall the planes. We'll replenish directly here. But from now on, no more piecemeal sorties. Prepare for squadron-based support bombing runs."
Such was the carriers' shameless advantage.
They could strike targets hundreds, even thousands, of nautical miles away. And as long as aluminum supplies held out, their aircraft could be replenished endlessly.
That was why defeating carriers required eliminating the shipgirls themselves at the source. Shooting down their planes was always inefficient.
Here, over 200 nautical miles from the battlefield, reconnaissance showed no signs of an enemy strike force moving against the base. That gave Lexington the confidence to order such a strategy.
If enemy forces had gathered in sufficient strength to threaten the base directly, then no matter what, Lexington would have had to keep a large mobile reserve for defense—just as she had done earlier, leaving half her planes for protection.
Now, Ranger and Saratoga received the command. Opening their eyes, they simultaneously directed their squadrons of dozens of planes while placing their hands on the nearby mountains of aluminum, absorbing the material to replenish their wings.
In terms of combat experience, they ranked among the highest.
For battleships, once they reached max level, they rarely left port—except during Abyssal operations or level 110 tactical drills.
Carriers were different. Reaching max level was only the beginning. Besides training in level 110 tactics, they were the fixed "grinding and salvage squad" of the base, since carriers were the most efficient for farming and looting. For any salvage runs, expeditions, or weekly operations, Hikaru always sent the carrier group.
One simple figure told the story: Lexington had sortieed 13,000 times. Bismarck only 2,500. Prince of Wales, a pitiful 800 or less.
Battleships consumed far too many resources; Hikaru usually leveled them up only in daily drills.
Yet the shipgirls with the richest battle experience weren't the carriers.
They were the submarines.
[End of Chapter]
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