So that’s what it sounds like when treads meet bone. It wasn’t a clean snap like a dry branch; it was a dull, wet explosion of structural failure. The Land Crawler Mk.I didn't just drive—it functioned as a twenty-ton battering ram, charging headlong into the swarm of Aerial-beasts surrounding the cave mouth. This beast of high-strength alloy steel didn't even need to fire its main guns. Its Mass was the weapon. Its Velocity was the intent.
“Get back!” I roared from the bucking turret.
The predators that usually shredded leather armor with ease looked pathetic against industrial-grade plating. Their talons scraped against the hull, leaving nothing but screeching sparks and shallow grooves before they were sucked into the churning treads and pulverized into a black-red slurry of organic lubricant.
Thud!
The chassis jerked. A massive Alpha-Ray attempted to board the roof, but before it could find its footing, I slammed the turret traverse. The red-hot barrels functioned as a searing iron club, catching the creature squarely across the skull. There was a sickening, wet crunch, and the beast was sent spinning into the dirt with its cranium collapsed.
“Brad! Stop the car! Right at the entrance!”
“Copy that! Brace for impact!”
Screeeeeeech—!
With the scream of hydraulic brakes and the violent shuddering of the earth, the Land Crawler Mk.I performed a brutal power-slide. It slammed into position, the hull acting as a steel barricade across the cave mouth. It blocked the swarm out, and shielded the half-buried survivors within.
“Rear hatch open! Brad, get them out of there!”
“On it!”
The cockpit door was kicked open. Brad dropped down, a wall of metal in his modified alloy armor. He held a half-ton tower shield in his left hand and a heavy trench shovel in his right—he claimed it was more practical than a sword for close-quarters work.
“Hey! Over here, you featherless bastards!” Brad roared, acting like a human bulldozer as he smashed through the remaining beasts.
I didn't watch the ground. My objective was the sky. The Thunderbird formation was broken, but the real threat was still hovering. The Silver-Robed Mage. He hadn't fled. After the initial shock, the Storm Clan commander had regrouped, ascending to eight hundred meters—the absolute blind spot for my 30mm cannons’ elevation limiters and the edge of their effective accuracy.
“Vermin of the earth...”
Even at that distance, I felt the atmospheric pressure change. The air grew heavy with static. He was chanting. A big one. The dark clouds above began to swirl into a violet-black vortex, lightning snaking through the gloom and converging on his staff.
[Tier 4 Forbidden Spell: Thunder Prison]
“Dammit! Sarak! Crank the barrels up! Higher!” I fought the hand-wheels, my muscles screaming against the resistance.
“I can’t! Those are mechanical limiters! If you push further, you’ll shear the turret ring!” Sarak shrieked from inside the cabin, his voice cracking with panic. “Builder! That’s Tier 4 magic! If that hits us, the boiler will suffer a Sympathetic Detonation!”
I stared at the violet orb of energy growing in the sky. My palms were slick with sweat. In a game, I’d have an interrupt skill. In reality, the laws of ballistics told me my slugs couldn't reach him with enough kinetic energy to matter.
Wait. Reach him?
I remembered the ugly, erratic projectile we’d tested at the range yesterday.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Kaelas!” I barked into the mic. “Deploy the ‘Big Firework.’ Now!”
“What? But Boss, the guidance beacons aren't installed! It hasn't even passed a wind tunnel test!” the fox’s panicked voice crackled in my ear.
“I don’t need precision! I just need it to go bang! Make it loud!”
I kicked open the weapon-mount cover at the rear of the roof. “Ignition! Launch it!”
“Alright... alright! Sending it!”
There was a flurry of motion at the back, followed by the sound of a magnesium striker. Hiss-fzzzt— A thick plume of black smoke erupted, momentarily swallowing the turret.
SHHHHHHHH-BOOM!!!
With a shriek like nails on a chalkboard, the improvised rocket—the Hellfire Custom—tore into the sky. It left a wobbly, corkscrewing trail of smoke, flying like a drunkard through the clouds. It had no aerodynamic grace. It veered left, then right, even performing a sickening mid-air tumble.
High above, the Mage watched the wobbling iron tube with open contempt. “Pathetic toy. Did you think this garbage could touch the majesty of the heavens?”
He didn't even bother to dodge. According to the projectile's current trajectory, it would miss him by at least fifty meters. He continued his chant, the lightning orb ready to deliver total annihilation.
However, he didn't understand Chemical Engineering. He didn't know what happens when a goblin and a fox kin decide to disregard safety regulations. As the rocket reached his altitude, the Barometric Fuse triggered.
Click.
KRA-BOOM!!!!
It wasn't a conventional fragmentation blast. For a split second, a second sun rose in the sky. Kaelas had packed five kilograms of high-purity magnesium, three kilograms of concentrated capsicum powder, and a dash of Shadow-kin blinding dust into the warhead.
Intense Light.
A multi-million candela flash stripped the vision from every living thing within a kilometer. The Mage, whose eyes had been wide open to maintain magical focus, was the primary victim. His retinas were scorched. The pain shattered his concentration instantly, causing a Mana Backlash. Then, the red, stinging smoke swallowed him.
“Cough—! What is this?! Poison?! Trickery!"”
The lightning orb, deprived of its master’s will, collapsed. Zap-CRACK! The resulting shockwave sent the noble mage and his mount into a violent tumble. He looked like a kite with its string cut, coughing blood and spice, clutching his blinded eyes in a pathetic display of terror.
“Lunatics! All of you!” The Mage’s arrogance was replaced by the primal fear of the unknown. He didn't know what other horrors were in that iron box. He wouldn't stay to find out. “Retreat!! Get me out of here! Now!!”
The remaining griffins grabbed their blinded master and fled into the distance, not once looking back. The sky was clear.
Exhale.
I slumped in the gunner’s seat, feeling the strength drain from my limbs. The battle on the ground was over too. Deprived of air support, the remaining beasts were just stray dogs before Brad and the recovered Shadow Blades. I removed my fogged-up goggles and wiped the cold sweat and grease from my forehead.
Through the dissipating red haze, the rear hatch of the truck opened. Brad was hauling survivors in like sacks of grain. Finally, he helped someone out. Zayla. She was covered in blood, limping, her armor reduced to tattered strips. But she didn't board immediately. She pushed Brad aside and looked up at the roof.
Our gazes met. I sat atop that steaming, iron machine, the "shredded" sky at my back. Her expression was a complex map of shame, shock, and a newfound, absolute Trust.
I didn't speak. I simply reached down with a hand stained in black oil and gunpowder residue. It was an invitation. A call to leave behind the world of cold steel and join the ark of the new age. Zayla bit her lip, tears tracing tracks through the soot on her face. She reached out, her hand trembling.
“...Take me home.”
I smiled. It was a tired, painful grin, but it was honest. “Brad! Close the hatch! We’re leaving!”
The Land Crawler Mk.I roared one last time, turning its nose toward the rising sun. Behind us, we left nothing but scorched brass casings and a deep, heavy tread-mark that had crushed the old order into the dirt.
Question of the Day: Zayla is now fully committed to the Industrial Age. What is the first thing Alex should do to upgrade her "Combat Efficiency"?
?? A) The Exo-Suit Skeleton.
Boost her strength and speed further. Turn the assassin into a heavy-duty cyborg predator.
?? B) High-Frequency Vibration Blade.
Upgrade her broken sword with a thermal-vibration core. Cut through magic shields like they're warm butter.
?? C) Precision Sniper Training.
The Engineer's Choice. Give her a high-velocity rifle. If she can kill at 800 meters, she won't ever have to rely on "Shadow Step" again.
Follow and Rate for more industrial madness!