This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

A large warship may not have an ice cream machine, but it must have a church.

The altar was small, housing both the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and a brass cross with an eagle emblem, representing Saint Neos. Alistair knelt on one knee, removed his flight helmet, and made the sign of the cross.

"...Almighty God, Son of Jesus," he prayed softly, "Please grant your humble servant courage and strength. Guide my course so that I can pour out the flames of vengeance on those heretics who blaspheme your name. Please also protect my battle brothers and allow them to return safely."

He paused, looked up at the eagle emblem and cross, his eyes becoming even more fiery.

"Great Saint Neos, the embodiment of reason, the protector of mankind. You perform the work of a god in a mortal body. Please bless the weapons in our hands, and let our sacred fire purify this battlefield of God..."

After all the pilots finished praying and the chaplain finished reading the prayer, he stood up and strode towards the hangar.

Inside the massive hangar, a tense yet orderly war scene unfolded. The pungent smell of fuel, engine oil, and metallic odors mingled. Ground crews were pushing carts laden with ammunition back and forth. Several sailors were surrounding a massive 18-inch aerial torpedo, furiously scribbling on its dark green hue with paint.

"One to Beelzebub's rectum!"

"Traitors receive the goods!"

Next to it, someone drew a bizarre devil's head pierced by a spear, with a line of scribbled Latin words underneath: "Neos Vult!" (What Neos wishes).

On the other hand, the 500-pound bomb mounted under the belly of the Fury bomber was inscribed with curses such as "Greetings from the Argus" and "May you sink as fast as your non-existent xylophone!"

Alistair found his own plane, the "Holy Flame Meow Meow One", a Swordfish biplane torpedo plane with a cartoon cat's head painted on its wings.

This is the ship mascot of the Argus - a ship cat named "Popcorn". This stray orange cat sneaked onto the ship while loading and unloading cargo at the port. Because he ran into the popcorn machine to steal butter and even dared to breathe on the captain, he was called Popcorn by the whole ship.

At that moment, several Mechanicus monks in crimson robes were surrounding the Holy Flame Meow Meow No. 1, performing the final consecration ceremony before takeoff. Holding incense burners, they chanted the "Startup Hymn" and carefully applied holy oil to key engine components, wing joints, and torpedo racks.

"The Machine Spirit awakens, casting aside its slumbering laziness. Hear our prayers and transform into the thunder of divine wrath."

Alistair stepped forward and respectfully placed his right palm on the engine cowling, closing his eyes and muttering the prayer of response, sensing the state of the machine spirit.

"Om-!"

The engine works well, with no abnormal noise or detonation, and the machine spirit is very loyal.

The monk nodded to him. "May the Om Messiah be with you, Captain. Go and make the heretics feel His wrath!"

All the ground crew, sailors, and even the handymen who were wiping the deck stopped what they were doing and saluted him or made the sign of the cross. "Good luck, sir!" "Beat them hard for us!" "God bless the Holy Flame Squadron!" Blessings rang out one after another.

Alistair nodded to everyone and swiftly climbed into the cockpit behind the torpedo plane. His observer and rear gunner, young Lieutenant Harry, was also in place. He expertly performed the pre-takeoff checks, flipping switches and checking every reading on the instrument panel.

"Buzz—clang—"

There was a huge vibration and the sound of metal grinding under their feet, and the elevator platform they were on began to slowly rise. Light poured in from above, and the hustle and bustle of the hangar was gradually left behind, replaced by an even stronger sea breeze on the flight deck.

"beep----"

When the elevator was level with the flight deck, a shrill whistle sounded, and a deck aircraft controller in a yellow vest immediately ran over, waving the signal in his hand.

"Spread the wings! Release the fixation!" The flag signal clearly conveyed the order.

The ground crew quickly unfastened the devices securing the aircraft, and Alistair activated the hydraulic folding mechanism of the wings.

"Engine start!" The guide gave the next flag signal.

He pushed the starter lever, and after a cough and black smoke, the radial engine on the nose of the plane burst into a steady and powerful roar, and the propeller began to rotate rapidly.

"Forward! Turn left! Follow me!" The pilot's flag signals kept changing, directing Alistair to taxi to the ready position on the takeoff line. The entire deck was filled with the roar of more than a dozen Swordfish and their furious engines.

"Woo——!!"

The Argus blew its whistle again and began to turn slightly, pointing its bow into the wind. Simultaneously, its engines revved to the maximum speed, providing the maximum lift for the incoming aircraft.

Alistair's "Holy Flame Meow Meow One" was guided to the take-off position. He could see the flight commander standing not far from the front of the deck, holding a green flag high.

"Flaps up!" Alistair shouted, pulling the lever.

"Flaps normal, trim normal, throttles ready!" Harry shouted back from the back seat.

He gave the flight commander a thumbs-up, indicating that everything was ready.

The flight commander stared ahead, judging the wind speed and the rise and fall of the ship, waiting for the perfect moment for takeoff. Then, he suddenly waved the flag in his hand downward!

It's now!

Alistair pushed the throttle to the floor, and the roar of the engine instantly reached a peak. He released the brakes, and the Swordfish torpedo plane, like a kick from the Om Messiah, began to accelerate across the short deck. For someone accustomed to the long runways of land, this was a suicidal charge. The end of the deck was rapidly approaching, and the waves seemed to be right in front of him.

"Pull up! Pull up!" Everyone on the deck watched their first attack plane take off.

Just as the nose of the plane was about to break through the deck, Alistair pulled back on the joystick.

The front wheel detached from the deck, and the entire aircraft plummeted in mid-air. Alistair's heart skipped a beat. But the next second, a strong headwind lifted the wings, and the machine spirit awakened. The engines unleashed their full potential, fiercely pulling "Holy Flame Meow Meow No. 1" back from the pull of gravity and beginning a tenacious climb.

He succeeded.

He circled over the port side of the Argus, awaiting his crew. Swordfish and Furies repeated his process one after another, breaking free from the deck and gravity, taking to the skies. Soon, an aerial formation of over a dozen fighters, laden with the fury of revenge, was assembled.

Alistair gave a brief order via radio: "'Holy Flame' calling all units, formation complete, heading to Zero-Four-Five, target - the heretic fleet. Humanity will win!"

"Humanity will win!" The team members' firm and uniform response came over the radio.

------

Visibility was so poor amidst the swirling clouds that Alistair could barely see the wingtip of his wingman. The entire formation could only sense each other's presence through the dim lights on the instrument panels and the static-filled navigation instructions in their headsets.

"Leader of the Holy Flame, this is the Portland navigation station. The Plymouth navigation station has been destroyed by the heretics. We are now in command."

The ground commander's voice came through the headset: "Your course is correct. According to the reconnaissance aircraft, the clouds are beginning to break up ten nautical miles ahead. You are about to reach your target airspace. Christ is with you."

"Flame Leader, copy, Portland," Alistair replied, his voice slightly distorted. "Thanks for the guidance. Call over."

He switched to the squadron communication channel: "Attention all units, I'm the leader. Prepare to break through the cloud and tighten the formation! Fury Squadron, stay above us and prepare to climb to seize the attack altitude. Holy Flame Squadron, follow me and prepare to descend and find an attack entry point."

"Fury received!"

"Holy Flame No. 2 received!"

A brief but forceful response came over the radio.

Alistair's eyes scanned the instrument panel: 9000 feet, 120 knots. For a Swordfish, this was a good cruising state. He gently pushed the control stick, the fuselage tilted slightly, and began to lead the formation in the final position adjustment.

Suddenly, a blinding light appeared ahead, and the plane burst through a gray curtain, suddenly plunging into the open, clear sky.

At that moment, everyone was shocked by the scene before them.

Thousands of feet below, a scene unfolded like a purgatory. Five heretic battleships continuously spewed deadly flames at each other. Facing them lay the familiar, tenacious figures of the Warspite, Renown, and Repulse, wounded and battered, yet fighting tooth and nail. Destroyers and cruisers tangled among the capital ships, leaving the sea littered with towering columns of water, flaming wreckage, and spreading oil.

The sky was covered in black smoke clouds left by the explosion of countless anti-aircraft shells, as if it were covered with patches of deadly black mold.

"Oh my God..." Lieutenant Harry, the observer in the back seat, gasped.

"This is God's battlefield, Harry." Alistair's voice was terrifyingly calm. "Connect to the front-line fighter channel."

"Captain Pigeon, this is Captain Holy Flame. We have arrived east of the target airspace, at an altitude of nine thousand. Please inform us of the enemy situation."

"Nice to meet you, Holy Flame!" A breathless voice with a thick Oxford accent came from the headset.

"The rocket engines are so hot they could roast my balls! The heretic bombers are numerous, and we've driven them off. But our endurance isn't enough—your attack window won't last long. Their anti-aircraft firepower is incredibly formidable, especially those battleships. They're like hedgehogs!"

We will try our best to help you clean up the anti-aircraft gun positions with our machine guns, but you have to be careful too! May God bless you!

"Roger that, Pigeon Leader. Thank you for your cover." Alistair switched back to the attack formation channel:

"Captain Fury, it's time to start dancing. You're responsible for suppressing the anti-aircraft firepower of the two battleships at the forefront of the enemy fleet—the second heretic battleship seems to have been damaged and fallen behind. Find a way to destroy it!

We, the Holy Flame Squadron, will focus on the largest ship in the middle! After you begin your dive, we will immediately follow up and launch a torpedo attack from low altitude. Action!

"Fury received! Happy hunting, men! Tea in Paris later!"

The order was given, and the two squadrons immediately split up. The Fury dive bombers rapidly climbed, their engines emitting a sharp roar as they climbed to an altitude of ten thousand feet, preparing to take the optimal altitude for a fatal attack. Alistair, leading his Sacred Flame Squadron, began to slowly descend, searching for the optimal angle of attack.

He saw that the Furious Group had arrived at the designated position. Then, one after another, the monoplane bombers began to dive!

"They've started!" Harry shouted.

Alistair clearly saw the speed brakes extended from under the wings of the diving Fury bombers, and then the heretic fleet below finally reacted and exploded instantly like a hornet's nest that had been poked!

In an instant, dozens of anti-aircraft guns opened fire simultaneously. Deadly smoke clouds exploded continuously in the dive path of the furious aircraft group, and countless bright tracer bullets formed a blockade line.

"Holy Flame Squadron! It's our turn! Follow me! Start attacking!!"

Alistair thrust the control stick forward, and the Swordfish's nose dropped heavily into its signature attack glide, the tension lines between the wings whirring in the intense wind pressure.

He focused all his attention on his plane and the target in the distance. The altimeter needle reversed rapidly: 6,000 feet, 4,000 feet, 2,000 feet...

The airspeed indicator needle trembled on the edge of a dangerous red line. He had to concentrate completely, ignoring everything around him. He saw a bomber take a direct hit from anti-aircraft fire, disintegrating into a brilliant fireball in the air. He also saw another Fury, after successfully dropping its bomb, pull up at an astonishing angle. Behind it, a huge eruption of flames and smoke erupted from the forecastle of a heretic battleship.

The attention of the heretic fleet was successfully attracted!

Now, it was their turn. The anti-aircraft fire network began to extend downward, covering these low-altitude intruders. Alistair could even see the smaller caliber rapid-fire artillery shells flying towards him like a rainstorm.

"Bang! Boom!"

The dull thud of shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and several ugly gashes tore through the canvas covering of the left lower wing. He didn't dare make a large evasive maneuver, as that would throw his aim off. He could only rely on subtle, almost imperceptible sideslips, trying to prevent the enemy gunner from accurately predicting his trajectory.

"Altitude five hundred feet! Three hundred!" Harry shouted the data behind him, his voice a little hoarse due to nervousness.

"Hold on...Hold on...Christ....Please bless me"

Alistair muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the crude sight in the cockpit, trained on the massive heretic flagship in the distance. He could see the enemy ship's massive funnels and towering bridge, even the heretic soldiers on the deck, scurrying like ants, manning the anti-aircraft guns. Death had never been so close.

"One hundred feet! We're about to hit the waves, sir!"

"Speed, angle, lead - perfect!" He slammed his thumb down on the torpedo release button at the top of the joystick!

"Boom!"

He felt a distinct vibration from the belly of the aircraft; the 1,600-pound Avenger had already fallen off the rack.

"Torpedoes leave the plane!"

"Disengage! Sharp left!" Alistair, without hesitation, jerked the control stick to the left and simultaneously pressed the rudder hard. Driven by the machine spirit's will to survive, the Swordfish pitched and rolled to the left at an almost impossible angle, the lower edge of the wing barely scraping the crest of the waves.

He stepped on the accelerator to the maximum, the engine groaned in pain, and he tried his best to take them away from this death zone.

A straight white tail was cutting across the sea at an astonishing speed, like a spear thrown by God himself, shooting towards the waist of the enemy ship.

At the same time, in the sky, the other surviving Swordfish in his squadron also dropped their torpedoes and began to break away. Several white streaks, from different angles, shot towards the heretic flagship.

"boom!!"

PS: 260 votes, next update 4.5k...

Red Tide: 1921: Chapter 88: Our Fate Is Already Decided

On the bridge of the heretic flagship, the Fallen Harbinger, an officer was the first to spot the trail of death. His pupils suddenly contracted, his face contorted with fear:

"Torpedo! Starboard attack! Anti-aircraft guns! Fire down! Shoot it!"

In an instant, all the still-active anti-aircraft weapons on the starboard side of the Sinking Herald, from the large-caliber rapid-fire anti-aircraft guns to the small-caliber machine guns, quickly turned their muzzles and unleashed a devastating hail of fire towards the rapidly approaching white line on the sea. Countless tracer bullets and shells slammed into the sea, stirring up a seething wall of spray, steam, and gun smoke around the torpedo.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The sailors watched helplessly as the white line appeared and disappeared in the barrage of bullets, but it passed through the fire network unscathed as if it was blessed by God!

Time seemed to be stretched out at this moment.

The next second, the magnetic induction fuse and impact fuse at the front end of the torpedo completed its final mission the moment it touched the hull of the sinking Pioneer.

The firing pin fired.

“Snap!”

The hundreds of kilograms of Topex explosives inside the torpedo transformed from a solid to an ultra-high-pressure gas in a thousandth of a second. A pure, concentrated, destructive force suddenly erupted underwater!

"boom--!!!"

A dull thud was heard by everyone through the sea water and steel.

The torpedo exploded directly into the sunken Herald's torpedo shield. This meticulously designed, liquid-filled hollow armor served as the battleship's last barrier against underwater attack. The immense energy of the explosion first shredded the thin outer steel plates of the shield, then sent a violent shockwave and high-temperature gases surging into the internal liquid tanks. The fuel and seawater within the tanks instantly vaporized, expanding violently and absorbing a significant portion of the blast's energy.

The steel was wailing, the rivets were breaking, and the structure of the lightning protection belt was destroyed and disintegrated layer by layer.

Finally, the weakened underwater shock wave hit the last main armored bulkhead protecting the core of the ship.

The massive ship, displacing over 45,000 tons, jerked to the port side and then began to list to starboard. Those on the bridge were thrown hither and thither by the sudden jolt. The torpedo seemed to have been blessed by Christ and Neos, instantly rendering countless devices inoperable.

A column of water mixed with fuel, seawater and billowing smoke shot up from the middle of the hull, reaching a height of more than ten meters.

The pride of this heretic fleet was wounded.

A single aerial torpedo hitting the torpedo belt couldn't possibly sink this heretic's pride. Her sturdy armor and the forging technology of Hell allowed her to withstand the blow. However, in order to intercept the torpedo dropped by Alistair, her starboard anti-aircraft firepower II Ying 焐奇q肿（a三）〒尔 experienced a fatal stagnation and chaos for more than ten seconds.

The gunners were either knocked down or injured or killed in the impact, and a brief vacuum appeared in the entire air defense command system.

This flaw was like an open door to heaven for the second batch of aircraft taking off.