Very Wrong Reincarnation: Isekai with Game Nation

Vol. 3 Chapter 8

It was the second day of the offensive, and the situation for Yugoslavia in Dalvat had become worse. Rocket fire, missile strikes, and glide bombs continued to rain down from the sky. The Cignus forces had not even placed a single foot on the ground where they were attacking. They didn’t need to. The land was still poisoned with sarin, and they had no need to rush. Their units were equipped with CBRN gear, but they held position, choosing instead to continue the bombardment.

Artillery batteries from Cignus were being moved deeper into the combat zone, set up with long-range and accurate targeting systems. They were guided by drones and satellites that gave them updated enemy positions every few minutes. The Yugoslav forces on the front were struggling. Their defensive lines were losing communication, and their air defense assets were destroyed one by one.

They could barely return fire.

In just 48 hours, the number of dead had reached nearly 3,000. Most died from air and artillery strikes.

Cignus aircrafts flew freely. There was no meaningful opposition in the sky. A dozen planes had been lost—half due to accidents or technical issues, only three confirmed shot down by enemy fire. They knew air superiority and artillery alone wouldn't win the war, but it was enough to soften enemy resistance and break down their strength before any real ground fighting began.

Every hour, new targets were marked and destroyed. Artillery platforms, tank columns, command posts, and air defense sites were bombed continuously. The goal was to reduce Yugoslavia’s strength until their forward units were incapable of organized defense.
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But while Dalvat burned, far away—about 2,000 kilometers from the frontline and 500 kilometers north of the Yugoslav heartland—a very different situation was unfolding.

In the quiet skies, a pair of UTVA 75 aircraft flew a patrol route. Originally meant for training, these small planes had become part of Yugoslavia’s desperate reconnaissance efforts. Their performance was poor by combat standards. They were slow, lightly built, and lacked weaponry. Technically, they could carry small dumb bombs, but they had no forward guns. Even old biplanes from Sanctium could shoot them down

Still, they were being used for patrol.

As Yugoslavia had no better options. Many of their MiG-21s and other frontline fighters were hidden in jungle airstrips or inside hardened bunkers. Fearing the increasing number of unknown air attacks and rumors of American aircrafts, the high command had grounded most of their jets unless absolutely necessary even the ongoing offensive in Dalvat, their fighter wings didn't dare to fly overhead. Patrol and reconnaissance were now done using slower, vulnerable planes like the UTVA 75.

Inside one of them sat Stefan, a cadet.

One of the pilots, a cadet named Stefan, flew with steady hands. He was young, part of the newer batches of recruits rushed through training as the war escalated. His plane carried two dumb bombs under the wings. They weren’t expecting to fight enemy fighters—more likely, they’d be asked to track ships or spot any hostile elements, thus, they're in dangerous situation. It wasn’t meant to be here, as it should flew in relatively peaceful airspace.

He spoke casually on the radio with his wingman.

“They say they’re sending some of our batch to Dalvat,” the other pilot said.

Stefan replied, “Let’s drink before they leave, just in case.”

“Maybe we’ll be next.”

“Maybe.”

“The Americans believed to be joining these fascist,” paused by his wingman. “Are we getting taste of American freedom?”

They joked about Americans, wondering if they’d ever join the war.