Important Announcement:
SUMMONING AMERICA WILL BE DISCONTINUED after the end of the GVE arc, sometime in November.
With priorities shifting in life and new opportunities popping up, I've made the heavy decision to place Summoning America on permanent hiatus once the GVE arc has concluded. I apologize for the disappointment this may cause, but I believe that you deserve high-quality content. Knowing that I can't spend much time on SA anymore, I don't want to force rushed chapters out just for the sake of uploading. I may come back to this story in the future one day or rewrite it, but this is not a likely possibility for the foreseeable future.
Thank you to the readers and fans who made this journey possible. Your support is greatly appreciated, and I couldn't have established my path in writing without you. I'll leave the story up as an archive, but I won't be conducting any maintenance or updates once it's been discontinued.
If you're craving some more military isekai, I will still be writing Manifest Fantasy (which may get published in the near future), alongside my next project, Arcane Exfil (which is currently available for early access on Patreon).
– –
Lorneau, Mu
Baker had seen worse airbases, but this one wasn't exactly going to win any awards. The buildings looked like they'd been thrown together, and the aircraft shelters seemed to be held together with wire and hope.
The airbase was a mess of mismatched structures, like they'd been built by different people at different times. There were old-fashioned biplane fighters parked on the apron, their canvas wings looking fragile and outdated. A few battered trucks and motorcycles were scattered around, but it was clear the Muans were struggling to keep their gear in working order. The whole place was covered in a patchwork of netting and branches, like they'd tried to blend it into the surrounding trees.
A handful of sandbagged emplacements dotted the perimeter, with what looked like old Maxim guns poking out. Baker's eyes narrowed – those things were ancient. The whole place felt like it was held together with twine and prayers, like the Muans were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Honestly, it was a miracle that the Gra Valkans hadn't bombed this place yet. Maybe they were too busy pounding the Muan cities to bother with a backwater airbase like this one. Or maybe they just hadn't found it yet, hidden away as it was in the trees.
Nakamoto pointed to the group of Muans waiting by the gate. "Looks like our hosts are ready for us." They were a rough-looking bunch, dressed in a mix of modern American gear – Baker spotted a few sets of advanced body armor, some M4s, and what looked like a pair of night vision goggles on one guy's helmet – and Muan uniforms. Some of the less fortunate ones had to stick with bolt-action rifles and the toys they'd produced themselves.
Baker eyed them for a second. No obvious signs of trouble, but you never know. "Alright, let's get this over with," he said, opening his door.
The lead Muan truck stopped at the gate, and their driver followed suit. Baker hopped out, stretching his legs and taking a look around.
Baker got out of the Humvee and looked around. Nakamoto nodded towards the gate. "Our hosts are waiting."
Baker and Nakamoto walked over to the gate, where a young Muan officer was waiting. He saluted. "Captain Baker, Ah'm assumin'? Ah'm Lieutenant Vex. Ah'll tak' ye tae Commander Joral fer debriefin'. Colonel Brayton's already there."
Baker returned the salute. "Lieutenant. What's the plan for our convoy?"
Vex nodded. "We've got a team ready tae gie's a hand wi' unloadin' the supplies, sir. They'll get stuck intae it right away."
