"R-Ray-Ray! S-stop this thing! I-I'm going to hurl!"

"You've been assigned as my partner in the air regiment, and you still can't get used to flying? The h*ll is wrong with you magicians!"

It was the skies. The battles in the First Great War was waging heavily across all fronts. The land, the sea, and notably the air. Right now, the collection of French and British Air Forces were flying in formation to launch a counter offensive against a formation of German planes.

On the Allied Power side, there were the British Sopwith Camels, the Triplane variants, and the French Nieuport 23 light fighters, and the SPAD S.13 Heavy fighters. On the Central Powers side, were a large variations of Fokker B.33 Multirole Fighters, and a heavy assortment of Hansen-Brandenburg G-1 bombers. The numbers were 1:3, but hopefully with the right Aces in place the odds will be leveled significantly. Namely a certain Canadian Pilot who was known to be the Aces among Aces.

"Ray-Ray! Ray-Ray! M-my magic is dependent on the orientation of the ground to the sky! I have to be aware of where the Cardinal directions are while I focus my spell to deflect enemy arcane attacks! I-I can already see two Kraut Magician readying their shot a-and my head still can differentiate from down to up!"

"You have to make do, Sleipnir. I'm rather busy in taking on six of these German pilots who already have a beat on me. Magic or not, I'll take care of them and you handle the rest. You focus on taking out that German magician or whatever you call them!"

"R-rest assured, my job is to protect the air fleet from enemy magic attacks. J-just whatever you do, d-don't make the plane do that thing that forces the world go 180 or--UNYAAAAAAAAH! I-I SAID DON'T DO THAT!"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"A Barrel Roll is a necessary defensive technique! Now hang on!"

A certain all black Sopwith Triplane marked 'Black Maria' screamed through the sky. A swarm of German planes and bombers split through the Allied Columns. Two seconds in, more than a dozen black smoke were seen plummeting down to the ground.

"You said they have magicians? Where are they located, I'll give you a clean shot before they take out our ground forces. Ready, Sleipnir?"

"Huuuurk! Huuuuuurkkk! Uuuuuuuurk!"

"...OH COME ON!"

Just when the triple wing Sopwith Camel had a clear run at one particular bomb with two occupants (one of them with a peculiar witch hat), the Canadian Pilot had to bank to the side to avoid a head on collision. As much as he missed his chance to shoot the plane at the core engine, there was a compensation of dropping human vomit onto the pilot's face. It ended up spiralling out of control (more common than being shot down), and ruptured into a black flower of smoke.

"...Well, guess you can't win them all with bullets."

"THE H*LL! huuurk. I-I TOLD YOU DON'T DO THAT SPINNING THING! uuurk! N-NOW LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR EMBERASSING MY--Gkh---Bleeeeeeeeegh."

"...Magicians are so bothersome."

Indeed.

"RAYMOND COLLISHAW, A-APOLO--Guuuuurrrllllllllll..."

"...What the h*ll did you eat? Spider legs and lizard tail?"

French Calamari and Brie actually.