Chapter 283: Storm In, Yidu Is Ours

On the ground, Quan Zong leaned over the map, when suddenly the roar of engines overhead grew from distant to near, sounding like thunder.

He snapped his head up; four P-38 "Lightning" fighters tore through the clouds, their silver wings flashing cold light amid the smoke as they skimmed low over Yidu!

"That can't be…" Quan Zong frowned, "The round trip to Changde takes at least two hours; it's only been a little over an hour. How did they get back?"

He thought briefly, then realized: it must be the air force arranged by the Commander, arriving at the objective ahead of schedule!

Looks like the air force is in a hurry too, rushing back to the battlefield so quickly.

But at this moment, no matter where it comes from!

If it's our own plane, it's a divine force from the heavens!

"Messenger!" Quan Zong sprang up, his voice like iron, "Aim at the South City Gate and fire red signal flares! Let the air force blow up this wall for me."

In fact, Quan Zong and a platoon of soldiers under Mi Long, once they launch a strong attack, may find that many of the Japanese Army on the wall have already disappeared.

Battalion Commander Sasaki, citing a maneuver, had already led his troops toward the Riverbank, but was blocked by Mi Long's forces.

"Yes, Battalion Commander!"

The Messenger quickly loaded the signal gun, aiming toward the ruined West City direction.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Three crimson signal flares shot upward, carving a dazzling trail through the gray‑black smoke like a bloodied banner fluttering.

In the sky, inside the lead P-38 cockpit, Squadron Leader Major William of the "Ghost" Squadron gripped the control stick tightly.

He scanned the ground through the side window and instantly caught those familiar red lights, which were marking his attack target; William understood the signal.

In fact, William's squadron went to bomb the Little Devil's Yangtze River fleet stragglers, successfully sinking two gunboats and a transport ship.

Though few bodies rose to the surface, the mission objective was achieved, so William led the remaining aircraft that hadn't dropped bombs to support the Yidu battlefield.

"Ghost Squad, attention," William pressed the radio, his voice calm and sharp, "Target: South City Gate. Deploy our 'Big Baby'. Bomb the Little Devils on the ground, leave no survivors."

A few deep voices came over the radio, "Yes, Captain!"

The next second, four P‑38s dived like hawks, their belly doors opening. Several round, blunt, snarling bombs fell straight toward the gate, trailing white smoke.

Boom!!!

The ground shook violently.

The first bomb hit the right‑side buttress of the gate with pinpoint accuracy, sending bricks and stones flying like paper; the second slammed into the doorway center, pulverizing the remaining wooden beams; the third landed on the street behind the gate, hurling the Japanese Army's makeshift sandbags and Machine Gun Position into the air.

Smoke and dust rose a hundred feet, and shattered stone fell like rain.

The entire South City Gate, together with its defensive system, turned into ruins in the explosion.

"Great!"

"Charge, rush forward!"

Company Commander Zhang Liang, seeing the wall destroyed, seized the moment to charge and deliver a killing blow to the Little Devils, leaping out of the crater at once.

"Kill!"

Soldiers in the trench surged forward to attack.

The 448th Regiment followed Quan Zong's second company in the charge; if they didn't rush now, the credit would be snatched away!

William glanced back at his masterpiece and even saw a Japanese soldier blown into the sky by the explosion, his body split in half left and right.

William was pleased, performing another 180‑degree turn in the air; he and his squad circled over Yidu so that they could provide fire support promptly when the ground needed it.

The Devils on the wall now have buzzing heads; many soldiers have their heads smashed open by stones, bleeding profusely.

The Little Devils are still searching for their weapons, not knowing where they went.

A company and platoon of warriors in the western city seized the chance, picking up weapons and launching a final attack on the remaining Japanese soldiers.

Soon, the wall was seized by the First Battalion and the 448th Regiment, and the 448th Regiment's mission shifted to pursuing the fleeing Little Devil remnants east of the city.

Mi Long wore a smug grin, saying, "Pathetic calf! Little Devil, that's all they are; what was that Little Devil called again!"

Mi Long kicked Sasaki's corpse—already dead beyond death—its face riddled by a bullet, half the mouth blown away, a brutally gruesome death!

"Company Commander, what about Sasaki!"

Mi Long toyed with Sasaki's war sword, muttering, "What a pity, that brat in Tonggu killed the Little Devil's regiment commander and got a Colonel's sword; Sasaki is only a Battalion Commander, how pitiful! Small! Small!"

"Company Commander, if you don't want it, give it to me!" shouted Xiahou Ping, a Third Platoon Leader under Mi Long.

"Get lost!" Mi Long kicked Xiahou Ping away.

He treasures this thing dearly, including the pistol he seized from a Little Devil pilot in Chanda, which he has carefully collected.

The captured spoils, especially Little Devil items, are Mi Long's battle record and material for his future bragging!

Not only Mi Long loves Little Devil stuff; in fact, all soldiers, including the 150th Division, enjoy confiscating Devil items.

Especially the Little Devil's swords, which are hot commodities—Jiang Anguo even has a sword belonging to the old Devil Watanabe Masao, hanging in Lashu's own command post.

He treasures it dearly and is reluctant to let anyone touch the sword.

Sporadic gunfire continued within the city; the Little Devils were making a final stand, which would not significantly affect Yidu's battle situation.

The warriors have begun cleanup, confiscating Little Devil weapons and clearing the streets.

The smoke has not yet cleared.

Quan Zong and Xie Boluan entered Yidu city under the protection of the soldiers.

The Little Devils inside the city were not fully cleared, but with the urgent war, their next step is to seize Xiaoting opposite Yidu.

Squads of soldiers marched orderly over broken bricks and shell casings, entering Yidu city.

Quan Zong neither went to the county office nor inspected the Little Devil situation; his first order was shouted by the Messenger across the city:

"Post a public safety notice! All Huaxia citizens, do not be frightened or fearful. Our Huaxia Army will not harm a hair; shops may open as usual, and grain stores will immediately open warehouses for relief!"

He then personally recited the second decree: "Anyone who reports Pseudo Army or traitor hideouts, once verified, will be rewarded fifty silver dollars and guaranteed safety for their whole family! If any Pseudo personnel voluntarily surrender and hand over weapon rosters, they will be pardoned!"

The notices were posted on the broken wall, and the news spread through the streets like wind.

The soldiers also shouted loudly, urging the city's civilians to come out.

The early‑morning fierce battle forced the city's common folk to curl up in cellars, bed Bottom, and firewood rooms, holding even their breath. At this moment, finally someone timidly pushed open a half‑door, and from the crack a face smeared with gray dust peered out.

"Is… is that our soldier?" a white‑haired old woman asked in a trembling voice.

"Mother, look at the Blue Sky White Sun Emblem on that hat!" his son said, eyes reddening, "It's our unit! Have they returned!"

Before the words finished, at the Corner a woman was already kneeling, crying bitterly; a child wriggled out of its mother's arms, ran to a passing soldier, clutched his leg and shouted "Uncle".

At once it left the 448th Regiment's warriors a little at a loss.

Fortunately, a warrior of an independent 448th Regiment First Battalion standing aside took candy from his pocket and handed it to the child.

An old scholar, leaning on a cane, shakily took down the dust‑covered "Loyalty and Righteousness Family Plaque", wiped it furiously with his sleeve, and choked out, "Three years… a full three years!"

"Officer, this time will you leave again?" the townsfolk still feared in their hearts; if the soldiers left, they would once more be under the Japanese occupiers' iron hooves, living worse than death.

The whole group stood at the crossroads, looking at these faces, battered yet still tearful and smiling, their hearts swelling with the unspeakable.

He took off his military cap and bowed deeply.

"Fellow villagers," his voice was low yet firm, "we have returned. This time, we will not leave again."

In the distance, a tattered yet clean Blue Sky White Sun and Red Flag was hoisted by a young soldier who climbed the county yamen flagpole, rising slowly.

Where the wind passed, it rustled and whistled, sounding like sobbing, like a lament, and also like an oath.