First Light of a New Age

Chapter 119: Golden Eagle Down

The walls of the estate shuddered under the constant barrage of explosions and the anguished cries of war. High above, the Auto Defense Turrets perched on the battlements swiveled methodically, spitting streams of bullets and mana-charged rounds into the seething mass of mercenaries and magic beasts below. Human soldiers lined the parapets added to the cacophony with mana-infused weapons lighting up the dusk. 

Despite their stalwart defense, the tide of enemies threatened to overwhelm them whole. The human forces below the walls were being slaughtered, only saved from total annihilation by the heroic efforts of three individuals. 

The Fire Knight swung its blazing greatsword and curved through the enemy ranks with relentless ferocity, leaving trails of fire that incinerated any who dared approach. Beside it, the Water Mage conjured torrents of water, dousing flames and freezing beasts solid with arcing spears of ice. High above them, the Wind Archer danced across the battlements and rained arrows infused with slicing gales upon the enemy with deadly precision. 

Lieutenant Dallas stood on top of the walls along with his men. He clenched his fist as he watched every comrade fall one by one and tightened his jaw with suppressed frustration. Suddenly, the crackle of his earpiece jolted him from his thoughts.

[Lieutenant! This is Golden Eagle Squadron! We have a Golden Eagle down. I repeat, Shepherd 6-4 is down! Crashed a few clicks northwest of your position. Crew status unknown!]

Dallas froze. "Golden Eagle Actual, 6-2, say again?"

[This is 6-2, Shepherd 6-4 is down!]

“Damn it,” he hissed through gritted teeth. He knew exactly who was aboard that helicopter. Carmel and Gadiel, his friends. 

"Pilot!" Dallas turned sharply as he addressed the UH-28 operator waiting near him. "Get your chopper ready! I’m going out there with a squad to secure the crash site." 

The pilot blinked in surprise. "With all due respect, sir, are you sure it’s wise to leave? This battle—" 

"I don’t have time for this!" Dallas snapped, his voice sharper than intended. He paused, his voice softening under the weight of his worry. "My frie-... my men are out there. If there’s a chance they’re alive, I’m not leaving them. Prepare the chopper." 

“Understood, sir.” The pilot saluted, then sprinted off to ready the craft.

Dallas turned to his second-in-command, a stern-faced officer whose name plate read “Commander Greaves”.

"Commander, you’re in charge of the defense while I’m gone. Hold the line. Do not let those beasts breach the estate walls." 

Greaves nodded sharply. "Understood, Lieutenant. I’ll make sure these bastards don’t gain another inch." 

Within minutes, Dallas and his ten handpicked soldiers boarded the waiting UH-28. The rotors spun up, kicking up clouds of dust that swirled like restless spirits in the fading light. Standing by the open door, Dallas cast one last glance at the estate walls and clenched his fists.

“We’ll be back,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t die on me.”  

The helicopter rose into the sky as the thrum of its engines drowned out by the chaos below. Flashes of light from explosions illuminated the battlefield like a grim fireworks display. Fires raged, shadows danced, and the screams of the dying were carried on the wind. The pilot skillfully maneuvered the craft, avoiding incoming fire from both the mercenaries and the beasts.