Gunmage
Chapter 57: A new toy

Chapter 57: Chapter 57: A new toy

In the dead of night, a terrifying battle raged in the northeastern sector of Drakensmar.

The sky burned with flickering embers as flames devoured shattered buildings, casting long, chaotic shadows across the war-torn streets.

A platoon of Heieg soldiers, clad in their customary sand-colored uniforms, sprinted through the broken sections of the city. Their breath came in fast and shallow, but their eyes burned with determination.

The distant roar of artillery punctuated the night, yet their advance remained unbroken.

An officer barked commands, his voice sharp and commanding.

The response was immediate. Battle cries rang out, a chorus of confidence that swept through their ranks.

Courage surged as they stormed ahead, armored cars growling alongside them like beasts eager to rip through enemy lines.

Then, the wall of a nearby building exploded.

A monstrous steel behemoth erupted through the crumbling bricks, sending chunks of stone and dust flying in all directions.

The sheer force of its emergence sent a thrill of awe rippling through the Heieg ranks. Their morale soared.

"For Glory!"

"For Heieg!!!"

But just then, the tank’s twin cannons swiveled, aiming directly at them.

"Wh—"

They weren’t able to react. The thunderous roar of a shell igniting shattered the moment. A fiery explosion tore through the heart of their formation.

The impact was catastrophic. The shockwave pulverized those closest, turning them into a rain of blood and gore, while the rest were thrown away from the pure concussive force, their internal organs rupturing.

Screams of agony and the metallic stench of blood filled the air.

Machine gun fire erupted, a relentless hail of death. The tank’s auxiliary weapons opened up, mercilessly cutting down any survivors. From the surrounding shadows, figures emerged, clad in black, their every shot sending a person to the afterlife.

With faces covered by archaic helmets, their expressions couldn’t be seen. But if they were, people would notice that they remained expressionless, their motions mechanical, their eyes dead.

The main barrels of the tank adjusted their aim again, targeting an approaching armored vehicle.

Boom!

The projectile streaked through the air, hitting its target dead center. The vehicle folded, as if having been struck by the hammer of a giant, before erupting in a fiery explosion

Shrapnel and twisted metal rained down, some pieces embedding themselves into nearby corpses, others clattering uselessly across the charred pavement.

High above, on the rooftop of a large structure, an unseen presence observed the slaughter. Xhi’s puppet perched in eerie stillness, its eyes scanning the battlefield.

The tank shifted course, responding to unseen directives, and its dark-clad infantry followed it closely. No words were exchanged, no commands were issued.

They all just operated in tandem with the tank silently, their cooperation eerily precise despite the lack of communication.

Inside the tank, the atmosphere was a suffocating mix of heat and noxious fumes. Helmets had been discarded long ago and words were unnecessary.

Xhi’s mental transmissions relayed orders directly into their minds, her presence an omnipresent force guiding their every move.

They had been hunting Heieg forces for hours now, ambushing and eradicating squads with brutal efficiency. The enemy had tanks as well, but none were operated as seamlessly as this one.

Every encounter ended the same. Heieg’s machines were reduced to burning husks, an overwhelming victory for the black powder task force. Their kill count was astronomical by now.

"Goddammit, it’s another tank!"

A voice crackled.

Xhi sharpened her focus. Through her puppet’s vantage point, she spotted the main forces of the Ashborn Corps.

Lovainne was already passing down orders.

"Into the buildings! Demolition squad, get ready to plant explosives! We’ll cut down the—"

His voice faltered when a figure stepped into view. A soldier clad in black, wearing a knight’s helmet. Upon closer inspection, they realized there were more.

The ground troops accompanying the tank, no more than four, all bore the same attire.

The soldiers recognized this strange squad of shady origins as one of their own.

Yet, Lovainne’s instincts screamed caution.

"Be careful! It might be a trap!"

The soldiers tensed, shifting into defensive formations. Weapons were raised, fingers poised over triggers.

That was when a voice rang in Lovainne’s mind.

"It’s us, you idiot."

The tank came to a halt, and the black-clad figures advanced. There was no hostility in their movements. The tension remained until the first beam of light streaked across the sky.

The night was ending.

The hatch of the tank popped open.

Lyra was the first to emerge, rifle in hand. She stepped onto the hull and inhaled deeply.

"Ah! Fresh air."

Of course, that air was thick with smoke, gunpowder, cordite, and blood. But, compared to the maddening heat and toxic fumes she had been forced to endure inside the tank, it was a blessing.

The soldiers gawked. Dressed in black with a longsword strapped to her hip, rifle in hand and unnaturally long hair framing an enchanting face, Lyra looked like a war-goddess manifested from the paintings of a lunatic.

The backdrop of the rising sun only heightened the effect, its golden light glinting off her figure in stark contrast to the battlefield’s carnage.

Under their stares, she shifted uncomfortably.

"Wh-what?"

The next instant, Xhi’s head popped up from the hatch.

"Ack!"

Startled, Lyra lost her balance and tumbled off the tank, landing in an undignified heap.

Then came Xhi herself, the Priestess. Graceful, ethereal, exuding an almost unnatural beauty. The soldiers held their breaths as they watched her descend.

She was followed by Vaelith, the elf, her exotic features captivating despite lacking the otherworldly intensity of the first two.

Then Lugh, sweat-soaked and disheveled, his flaxen hair clinging to his face.

The soldiers exchanged confused glances. Was this a battlefield or a beauty contest? Where had all these people come from?

Finally, Renshaw climbed out. The soldiers barely glanced his way before quickly losing interest.

"Oh, f*ck you"

The captain muttered, scowling.

With an irritated grunt, he tossed something onto the ground. A cluster of helmets.

"You forgot these."

There was a brief, awkward pause.

"Ah."

Realization struck them hard. Their identities were supposed to remain hidden. But in their desperation to escape the tank’s hellish interior, they had forgotten the most basic precaution.

Vaelith instinctively moved to cover her ears, but her hands halted midway. No, doing so would only make things worse.

Lugh could make out Lovainne face palming.

Xhi caught his figure too.

"Hey, Mr. Prince."

She called out while smacking her palm against the tank’s hull.

"We brought you a new toy."