A barrage of missiles from six Mad Cats had simultaneously launched directly from the freshly opened shuttle ramps, mutilating these descent vehicles completely. However, the clans had never prioritized material assets over potential victory. In my previous life, I had witnessed the strikes of heavy multi-rocket incendiary launchers in person. It was from this memory that I had modeled the salvoes of the Mad Cats for my comic. Now, I fully comprehended that I had made a blunder. I should have depicted something less dramatic and lethal...

"Get down!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

I took cover behind the downed Locust, which hadn't had time to cool down yet. The wave of fire and the blast were so potent that they even managed to displace the immobilized mech, weighing tens of tons, behind which I was hiding, by almost a meter. If I had been an average person, the drop in pressure would either have killed me or ruptured my eardrums and caused a severe concussion. But we were in the Break, and my Projection was indifferent to any changes in pressure.

Taking advantage of the fact that the heavy salvo had us pinned down for several tense seconds, the landing commander managed to organize a battle formation. "Medium" mechs are a much more formidable adversary than "light" machines. They weigh almost fifty tons and can carry almost twice as many lethal weapons and far more robust protection. The landing commander made the right deductions in the few minutes that our battle with the reconnaissance platoon lasted.

In the frontline of the enemies, blocking the entire attack front with their sectors of fire, were squat Novas mixed with Vipers. What these vehicles had in common was the presence of heavy flamethrower systems, far deadlier than those installed on the Locust I was familiar with. True, unlike the recon vehicles, these mechs weren't equipped with jet boosters. But they didn't particularly need them, since they were shielded from the second row by ShadowHawks and Punchers armed with heavy pulse and proton-positron guns, which are high-precision, almost sniper weapons. The rocket-bearing Mad Cats and Griffins were in the third row. This third row created a wave of explosions with their missiles in front of the leading forces. The shuttles damaged during landing morphed into stationary combat platforms in a matter of seconds, further bolstering the firepower of the landed forces.

We had already recovered from our initial shock upon encountering this new enemy. The two dozen immobilized light mechs were a clear testament to that. The deafening roar of the surrounding explosions made vocal commands nearly impossible, so I switched to hand gestures, relying on those who could see me to relay my orders to the others. The constant barrage of gunfire not only kept us grounded, but it also hindered the enemy's ability to accurately gauge the battlefield layout. Complying with my orders, two dozen Knights, spearheaded by Halley and Dobrynya, split into two groups. Hidden behind the terrain's folds, they retreated using Sliding. The rest, following my lead, began to launch swift and aggressive attacks against the advancing front line.

Naturally, our counterattacks were quickly disrupted by the jets of flame erupting from the front row. As for those of us who were exceptionally agile, like Leonidas, Maya, and myself, we had to retreat to avoid being caught in the crossfire of impulse and proton guns. It became apparent that the target wasn't Wilflaes as the enemy front was advancing in the opposite direction. It was only after a near-miss by an impulse shot that I realized the Breakthrough's target was not the city, but the monastery where the G20 leaders were meeting.

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Indeed, the mechs moved cautiously, choosing to obliterate everything in their path rather than risk close-quarters combat with the Break Knights. But even despite their caution, the monastery would fall within the range of the Mad Cat missile systems in a mere ten minutes. Given that the mechs' weaponry could affect the real world, this was absolutely unacceptable.

"Idiots!" Leonidas yelled from somewhere above. "Turn back!"

I scanned our surroundings. About a kilometer north, four black passenger helicopters were flying from the capital towards the monastery, barely a few hundred meters off the ground. Naturally, their pilots couldn't hear Leonidas's warning, and they seemed oblivious to the events unfolding in the Break nearby.

Two Shadow Hawks swiveled their hulls without stopping and fired a volley from their proton guns. The helicopter pilots likely didn't even have time to register their impending doom. In an instant, the four aircraft were transformed into molten metal debris plummeting to the ground.

"Bastards…" Sigurd muttered next to me, frozen in place as he watched the scene unfold.

I launched a Push, hitting his shoulder with a burst of prana just in time. Two bright blue spheres of proton shots whizzed through the space where the young Knight had stood immobilized just a moment ago.

"Watch out!" I yelled over the subsequent missile explosions.

Our attempts at an offensive barely slowed the systematic advancement of the mechs. They simply cut us off, preventing us from getting close. They weren't fighting us - we were merely an irritant, not their target! But even with this realization, we were limited in our response. A full-scale attack would require at least a hundred of us in order to distract and overwhelm their gun systems. However, we weren't just sitting ducks. Our attacks were not in vain.

To my relief, the commanding officer on the ground realized the situation too late. It was exactly when the third row of combat vehicles suddenly froze, and then some of them began to topple over. This was the work of Halley and Dobrynya's groups, who had managed to get behind the enemy lines in Sliding, effectively flanking them. In the next moment, having lost their long-range cover and now under attack from the rear, the enemy mechs were fragmented into smaller groups. This stripped them of their main advantage: a continuous barrage of fire! The battle essentially turned into a free-for-all combat.

I jumped up in Sliding, altering my flight path with a Push. Another Push. And like a comet, I plunged right into the center of a formation created by four mechs, who were shielding each other's vulnerable rear sections.

"Word" began its symphony. "Purity" responded with flashes of snow-white light, severing the mech's wiring. I unleashed twelve powerful strikes in a mere three seconds, and the four previously lethal machines no longer posed a threat. Leaving Kael and Thora to finish them off, I ascended once more, nimbly dodging volleys of mech fire, using my Push ability as makeshift thrusters. This kind of close-quarters combat was our element!

Indeed, the clan pilots put up a desperate resistance, demonstrating their skill in maneuvering their multi-ton machines, but it only postponed the inevitable. It was clear that we were winning, even to the inexperienced Sigurgd, judging by his triumphant exclamations.

"Air!" Dobrynya's next shout abruptly brought our spirits back down.