Specialist Sergeant Simone Riley, leader of the elite task force known by many names, such as the Hitmen Team, the Executioners, Team Epsilon, and now Omega-191, codenamed 'The Tempest Scions'.

They had little time to rest after returning from Aquarius as their brief rest was cut short by the IDAC, who selected them to become the first task force dedicated to combating magic.

Due to their time in Aquarius, a place with more dangerous magicians than the rest of the Third Civilization Zone, had sharpened their skills far beyond those of other units. This hard-earned experience made them the prime candidates for the new initiative.

Right now, Riley checked his gear in the briefing room deep within a mountain base as his team gathered around, outfitted in modified armor and wielding a range of weapons, from mithril daggers, automatic shotguns, silenced AF-1 rifles, and the latest weapon from the Weapon Engineering Department, the AF-2 MageSpitter.

The AF-2 Magespitter was a specially designed rapid-fire assault carbine, boasted a stamped steel body and wooden grips. Its fire selector allowed for safe, single, or fully automatic fire. Weighing 3.3 kg unloaded, with a total length of one meter and a 45 cm barrel, it could hold 30 rounds of 8.5mm mithril-tipped ammunition in detachable scythe-patterned magazines. It had a muzzle velocity of 607 m/s, an effective range of 270 meters, and a rate of fire of 320 rounds per minute on full auto.

To enable the gas operated system to work properly, two gas tubes placed at the sides of the main barrel channeled the expanding gas from firing the cartridge against two wind runes were inserted at the front, the expanding gas than collides both the wind runes, creating a pocket of air, which created the much needed force for a gas blow back system. To increase the efficiency of the gas trap style mechanism, a muzzle booster comes installed at the muzzle of the rifle barrel. It provided additional energy to 'boost' the energy provided by the recoiling gasses. This 'boost' provides higher rates of fire and more reliable operation of the gas operated system.

With the combined efforts of advanced technology and magic, along with the expertise of a select group of highly skilled elves, the Science Department had crafted a remarkable piece of equipment.

This helmet, its sleek design is adorned with intricate runes that shimmer faintly when worn. The enchantment embedded within the helmet taps into the user's cognitive abilities, significantly enhancing their mental processing speed. This allows the wearer to think faster than any normal human, processing information in a fraction of a second, which makes them incredibly sharp in combat situations.

In addition to heightened cognitive speed, the enchantment also enhances the soldier's perception. Movements that would normally be too fast for the human eye to detect become easily clear and trackable, giving the wearer the ability to track fast-moving enemies, dodge projectiles, and react to threats with near-instant reflexes. This combination of enhanced thought and perception grants the soldier a distinct advantage in both tactical planning and direct combat, making the enchanted helmet a coveted piece of equipment on the battlefield. However, prolonged use of the helmet can strain the mind, requiring the wearer to rest frequently to avoid mental fatigue.

With this, the soldiers could react to something instead of getting speedblitz without a fight. But the problem is while their mind could react at incredible speeds, can their body avoid it?

That statement from one researcher made sense. Enhanced perception was one thing, but the physical limitations of the human body still posed a challenge.

Fortunately, they have a solution which lay in an extraordinary material.

Mithril.

As light as aluminum but stronger than steel, mithril was found in abundance after the Empire's arrival in this new world. This discovery enabled the mass production of mithril-based equipment.

Its lightweight properties allowed soldiers to wear armor without being weighed down, offering maximum protection without sacrificing mobility. Mithril also had the unique ability to conduct and amplify magical energy, making it an ideal choice for the military's next innovation.

The MK-I Armor.

The MK-I Armor, a new modified armor made from mithril steel, which was designed to revolutionize modern warfare. Through both mechanical and magical enhancements, the armor increased a soldier's physical capabilities. Wearing it allowed even an average human to lift heavy objects, run faster, and jump higher, all while maintaining their endurance.

Thanks to the elves' mastery of enchantments, the armor could also self-repair minor damage, using mana crystals to mend cracks or breaks in the material. Additionally, the mithril would offer superior protection against both physical and magical attacks. It could absorb or deflect significant amounts of magical damage, making it perfect for combat against magic-wielding enemies.

The armor's enhancements granted soldiers increased strength, agility, and protection, which would significantly increase a soldier's battlefield performance. They could carry heavier weapons, move quickly across difficult terrain, and face enemies that would normally outmatch them.

By reducing physical strain, the suit allowed soldiers to fight longer and endure injuries that might otherwise incapacitate them. Its ability to absorb and dissipate magical energy also protected wearers from fatigue caused by magical attacks, especially in environments dense with magic.

Despite its overwhelming advantages, mastering the MK-I Armor required specialized training. Soldiers needed to learn how to control the armor's magical components and integrate it into their combat strategies alongside existing technology.

As Specialist Sergeant Simone Riley reflected on this technological marvel, he couldn't help but be amazed.

"If we were building this on Earth, it would take decades, maybe even a century, to create armor capable of reshaping modern warfare. But here, with magic, the elves' knowledge, and mithril's unique properties, it took the eggheads only a few months."

Then, there is Storage Magic Artifacts, such magical artifacts that even shocked the Austronesian Empire of not only for their strange magic but for their incredible incredible usefulness for the military. These tools had the potential to solve logistical issues almost immediately if they were mass-produced as these artifacts could be used to store vast amounts of ammunition, food, medical supplies, and fuel in a pocket dimension. For modern soldiers, they could access these supplies instantly on the battlefield, reducing the need for supply convoys that are vulnerable to attack by enabling soldiers to access critical resources instantly on the battlefield.

With Storage Magic Artifacts, the soldiers would no longer need to carry heavy gear, and could store multiple weapons from rifles, grenades, even heavy weapons like rocket launchers, and switch between them instantly depending on the tactical situation. This would drastically allow them to complete missions more efficiently, faster, and with higher morale without the burden of heavy equipment.

These rings also offered versatility, allowing soldiers to carry specialized equipment like breaching tools, surveillance drones, or explosives without being weighed down.

Another unique property of these storage artifacts was that any items kept within the pocket dimension were frozen in time, an invaluable feature for preserving perishable supplies like food and prevent them from expiration.

Back in the present, Riley placed his customized AF-2 rifle into the pocket dimension of his Spatial Ring, alongside dozens of loaded magazines that is enough for a whole squad. The rifle was outfitted with a 2x red dot sight, a forward grip, a laser sighting device, and a silencer which is perfect for the mission ahead.

Standing nearby was another member of Omega-191, which is suprisingly Polities, who is now officially part of their team as their mage support. The inclusion of an elf in the modern military was a groundbreaking development, yet even the most racist member of the team seemed to have no objections. Remarkably, it appeared that Polities was getting along well with the rest of the unit.

The first elf to wear modern military gear, Polities carried a massive rune-reinforced ballistic shield made of orichalcum, along with a double-barreled sawed-off shotgun stored in his Spatial Ring. His armored chest bore a crisscrossed bandolier of shotgun shells, ready for whatever the mission demanded.

"Officer on deck!" Riley barked and snapped to attention as the door swung open. Colonel Ciaphas Cahyono, Master Sergeant Pice, and a First Lieutenant with Intelligence markings on his uniform strode in. The rest of the team of six humans and one elf immediately stopped all work and stood at attention.

"At ease," Ciaphas waved them down. He surveyed the team, fully equipped in their weapons and heavy armor. "All ready?" A nod of approval followed. "Alright, gather around."

The Lieutenant stepped forward and plugged a data stick into the room's display.

"By now, you guys surely could have guessed of some of what this mission," he began. "I'm First Lieutenant Tyler from Military Intelligence, and we'll be working closely moving forward." He gestured toward two points on the digital map projected onto the screen. "Primary Objective Alpha: eliminate the Necromancer."

The map zoomed in on a dark, inky blob in the middle of a cluster of Orcs.

"A day ago, we managed to track down those green bastards and now knew where they are. But not only that, UAV reconnaissance picked up this anomaly at the same time," Tyler explained, highlighting the inky black blob. "Intel analyzed earlier footage and found similar anomalies at multiple attack sites." The screen shifted through various timestamps and locations, each showing the same dark figure surrounded by Orcs.

"We suspect that this fellow here is the boss of the Orcs," he pointed to an Orc significantly larger than the rest, without any adornments on his body and armor. "We've seen him several times at the rear of the formations, always near this dark blob." Another image appeared and shower a sharp, clear shot of the giant Orc with the humanoid-shaped shadow trailing behind.

"Odysseus' assessment indicates the blob is some sort of anti-scrying spell, designed to prevent magical detection," Tyler continued. "We tested this with an elf's similar magic, and it produces the same blurry interference on our cameras and sensors. We're 100% certain this is our target."

Tyler laid out the mission objectives, "Eliminate Target Alpha. If possible, recover any intel or artifacts linked to the Necromancer for further study by Command. Secondary Objective Beta, if after eliminating the Primary Target and the undead remain operational, search and destroy possible magical anchors in the vicinity of these two locations."

The screen shifted to a top-down map of the forest, with highlighted zones. "Blue areas indicate suspected Orc activity," Tyler said, pointing to the zones. He then gestured toward a red-highlighted area. "This area has an 80% likelihood of being the Necromancer's living quarters. It's also the location of the mass graves from the New Guinea Highland Campaign."

"The Primary Target is expected to appear at these locations during specific times of the night, likely to oversee and command the undead forces." Tyler highlighted three more points on the map. "We want a clean kill here. Cut off the head, douse the body with salt, and burn it." His gaze swept across the Tempest Scions. "This is a high-priority target. No room for mistakes. Questions?"

"What kind of support are we getting?" Tavish asked. "Why not just hit the target with a missile strike?"

"Command doesn't want to leave it to chance," Tyler explained. "The target might have a barrier spell that could negate all forms of attack. We need boots on the ground to ensure the job is done right."

"You'll have priority UAV tasking and a single missile strike for emergencies," Colonel Ciaphas added, raising a hand to silence the team's protests. "I know, I asked for more support, but this is all we've been allocated."

"The seven of us against ten thousand Orcs, an unknown number of undead and possible Transcendents, just to kill one Necromancer?" Price said sarcastically. "And all we get is one missile?"

"That's ridiculous," Belinski grumbled. "Are we a special force, a suicide squad, or a Kill Team?"

"Settle down!" Pice bellowed, glaring at the unhappy members of the team. "You are now the most elite among the elite task forces! Stop your whining!"

"I'll have a full battalion of soldiers, tanks, and armored vehicles on standby, with a Golden Eagle ready to extract you at a moment's notice," Ciaphas reassured them. "Command has their reasons for this arrangement. I am sure."

"Alright, quit complaining," Riley interrupted, cutting through the tension. "We'll find a way in and out without anyone knowing we were there. Isn't that exactly what we trained for?"

The team nodded in agreement. "If we're going in quiet, we'll need to adjust our loadouts," Riley continued. "Drop the shields, switch to silenced AF-2s, and pack extra explosives for distractions."

He turned back to the display, studying the map. "What about patrol routes and sentry locations?" he asked Tyler, who smiled.

"Ah, I was waiting for you to ask."

----------------------

The thunder of an AF-1 rifle echoed over the sheer walls of the near vertical mountain range. The twin moons appeared above as two thin crescents hovered over the tall peaks of the Mountain ranges, as a single dark shape loomed over peaks, narrowing missing the jagged rocks, kicking up loose rocks and dirt. The twin turboprop duct fans screamed as maximum power was applied to them, barely allowing the shuttle to clear the peaks barely a meter or two below its belly.

Several figures were strapped onto crash seats facing each other in the pressurized cabin of the UH-28 "Golden Eagle" helicopter.

Dozens of weight-reducing runes were carved into the main hull of the helicopter, giving a further 25% reduction in total weight, transforming the heavy, ungainly aircraft into something that flew with the agility of a sports car. Despite its lack of aerodynamic surfaces, the stubby wings welded to the middle of the hull supported three weapon stations each, providing lift and firepower. At the nose, a large blue-gray mana stone glowed faintly beneath 10 mm of armored steel. Carved with mystic runes, the stone shimmered as an electric current coursed through it, projecting a bubble of reduced wind resistance around the craft.

This enchantment allowed the copter to glide through the air as though on greased rails against all weather but a hurricane.

"This is your flight captain speaking, please put your trays up and ensure your seat belts are buckled," a cheery voice crackled over the speakers, cutting through the red-lit cabin. "If you feel the need to puke, kindly do so inside your helmets, as the Golden Eagle does not permit vomiting in the flight cabin."

Specialist Sergeant Riley rolled his eyes at the pilot's antics. He glanced out the armored glass window, seeing but the darkness beyond offered little to see. Turning his attention back to his team, he noted a few of them sleeping off in their seats, trying to catch whatever sleep they could. Across from him, Specialist Private Mason sat quietly, staring into the night beyond the glass, lost in thought.

After a short lull, the pilot's voice broke through the hum of the engines, "Alright, boys, we're approaching the LZ (Landing Zone) in five minutes. Make sure you've left no belongings behind you as you depart from the bird. And thank you for flying Air Golden Eagle, and have a pleasant day!"

"Wake up! Wake up!" Riley shouted over the rising whine of the engines. "Five minutes!" He held up five fingers, rousing his team from their brief rest. The squad immediately began a final check of their gear for the last time and braced themselves for the upcoming insertion.

The whine of the turboprops changed pitch, and the buckles of Riley's harness dug into his armor as he tightened his grip on the handrails in time just as the pilot gave his warning.

"Alright, boys! Hold on tight! Here we go!"

The Golden Eagle suddenly took a hard turn to the right, then dropped sharply as the pilot nosedived, bleeding off speed rapidly. The sudden maneuver slammed the team into their crash seats, and the helicopter hovered just a meter above the terrain as an old precaution against landmines, despite knowing the enemy lacked such technology. It was more about keeping the pilot's skills sharp.

At the rear of the cabin, the crew chief stood stoically like a statue by the sharp turns and dives seemingly unable to faze him at all. As the lights flicked from red to green, he punched the rear ramp open and called out.

"GO, GO, GO!"

The soldiers of Omega-191, the Tempest Scions, unbuckled their safety harnesses and rapidly hopped off the ramp and spread out into a tight circle, with their AF-2 rifles leveled at the surrounding darkness. The fat silencers attached to their barrels glistened under the faint moonlight, as they scanned the edge of the forest.

Once the helicopter lifted off and the noise of the turboprops faded into the distance, Riley whistled into his comms.

"Move out." The team immediately began their march north, straight toward their objective.

They donned their night vision gear and synchronized their comms, then formed a diamond-shaped formation, keeping a five-meter distance between each other as they advanced. The group of six humans and one elf moved through the thick forest quietly and skillfully, not leaving behind any traces of their passage as they headed northwards towards their objective.

The transport helicopter had airlifted them 15 kilometers south of their objective, skimming over the mountain tops to avoid detection. From here, they would trek through the forest and infiltrate the enemy encampment, taking out their target and, if necessary, searching for and destroying the magical anchor.

The team was mostly armed with silenced AF-2 rifles, and each member carried a pump-action shotgun loaded with experimental arcane ammunition. For long-range support, they had the AF-3 "Magekiller", ready to take out their target from a distance if possible with adamantite rounds and was designed to bypass magical protections even from a Low-Level Transcendent Tier 1.

Paired in twos, each duo carried two AF-2s, a shotgun, and an AF-3 between themselves. With the aid of their mithril-enhanced armor, the team moved quickly and efficiently, their enhanced speed and agility allowing them to cover ground fast.

In just under an hour, they reached the edge of the Orc encampment. Hidden in the dense shadows of the forest as the Tempest Scions prepared for their mission.

"I see something," Polities, the elf member of Omega-191, spoke quietly as he moved quickly to the edge of a cliff. The rest of the team followed him, crouching low and peering over the edge.

What lay before them was a scene of both devastation and chaos. Beyond the cliff was a massive field that had once been home to a sprawling human city. Now, it lay in ruin, ravaged by the demon invasion during the New Year Tragedy.

Not only that, the streets were filled with thousands of Orcs, swarming through the ruins like ants.

But it wasn't just the sheer number of Orcs that was shocking, it was the vehicles. Dozens, if not hundreds, of ramshackled war machines which appeared to be put together from salvaged car parts and scrap metal rumbled across the city with their jagged armor covered in spikes. Even from this distance, the team could hear the deep roars of Orc laughter echoing through the desolate landscape.

"Damn... It's a damn convention down there," Price muttered with his eyes wide as he took in the sight.

"Yeah." Riley responded grimly, casting a glance at Polities, who met his look and gave a silent nod.

Without a word, the elf began murmuring a spell under his breath, where a dim, bluish glow radiated from under each member of Omega-191's feet as the magical circle formed and completed its work.

Within moments, the entire squad glowed faintly slightly bluish before their body blurring and then blending seamlessly into the surrounding shadows.

"Done," Polities whispered as he finished the minor invisibility spell.

"Go," Riley ordered quietly over the team's comms. "Infra probe lights on. Keep everyone in sight, and don't get lost!" He glanced around, straining to see his teammates in the thick darkness of the forest. Reaching back, he flipped a switch on a small cylindrical device attached to his vest.

His night vision goggles flashed to life, revealing a series of red pulsing infrared markers, each one representing a member of his team. The probe lights were low-intensity infrared pulses, invisible to anyone not wearing NVGs, but crystal clear to Omega-191. Satisfied that everyone's gear was functioning properly and that they had visibility on each other, Riley gave a quick hand signal, and the team silently moved forward.

The Tempest Scions crept carefully past the outskirts of the Orc encampment with their weapons at the ready. The sound of raucous Orc laughter and clanging metal grew louder as they moved, punctuated by the occasional explosion from one of the ramshackle vehicles. Drunken Orcs staggered around, unaware of the invisible soldiers slipping past them in the night.

Riley's eyes remained fixed ahead with their mission in his mind. Eliminate the Necromancer and stop the undead army from spreading further chaos, and one mistake could mean death for the entire team, but Omega-191 had trained for this. They were prepared, focused, and now, practically invisible.

As they moved deeper into enemy territory, the eerie glow of fires and the faint smell of charred remains filled the air. The objective was within reach, but so was the danger.

One of the Tempest Scion team members began mapping out locations and positions of the Orc encampment as they stealthily navigated through it, identifying guard towers, stores, barracks, and sentry positions. After an hour of covert infiltration, the team spread out across three designated locations. Area A, B, and C, each with two members overwatching the area where they suspected the Necromancer would appear except for Riley, who positioned centrally between the locations, took on the role of command and control point.

Riley carefully climbed into the canopy of an ancient everblue tree and settled on a sturdy branch three stories up. He secured his position by fastening a rope and carabiner around the branch, clipping it to his harness. Then, he unfurled a smart camo netting and draped it over himself, lying prone and keeping watch around him. The minor invisibility spell will remain active for a couple of hours before fading, more than enough time for the team to fortify their positions.

Though High Command has not given any strict deadline, the mission's critical nature weighed on Riley's mind and it must succeed. He was determined to ensure everything works out perfectly. His team had strategically planted claymore mines in each location, a simple curved plates packed with hundreds of ball bearings on one side and shaped explosives on the other.

The mines were daisy-chained together for maximum effect on a trap area, rigged to detonate remotely by a clanking device that would send an electric charge through hidden wires cleverly camouflaged along the forest floor. This was a last resort, in case the team's snipers failed to take down the target with the AF-3 Magekiller, as the Necromancer would likely be shielded by magical defensive spells. But the sheer force of the ball bearings and the Mithril properties within them will be more than enough to shred through what magical shields and defenses to pieces.

Hours passed as the special ops soldiers lay hidden in the dense forest, ignoring the bites and stings of insects on their exposed skin and waited for the Necromancer's arrival. But Lady Luck was not smiling to them as night turned to day, and it wasn't until late afternoon that something happened.

Specialist Private Polities slowly chewed a dried fruit bar in his mouth, slowly savoring the sweetness of the mixture of fruits and nuts. He and his partner, Price, mentally turned out the boredom of having nothing happening for hours, even taking turns for quick power naps. Watching the sloppily patrolling gangs of Orcs, crashing through the undergrowth, Polities shook his head. They were so loud, it was a wonder they hadn't alerted half the forest.

He used to fear these Orcs, thinking back to the childhood stories that his mother used to scare him with, warning that if you don't sleep now, or you don't listen and be a good boy, the Orcs will come and snatch you away and eat you at night. Now looking at the way the Orcs move and carry themselves, he smiled at how foolish his younger self had been.

"Pssh," Price hissed from his hide on a tree away from him. He signals Polities with hand signs, indicating some unusual movement approaching from their East. Price handled the massive AF-3 anti-magic rifle, perfectly camouflaged beneath the smart netting that blended him into the tree so seamlessly, only Polities knew where to look.

Polities turned his head slowly, very slowly, toward the direction Price had indicated. His face, painted with dark green and strips of black camo paint, cautiously peeked from beneath the netting, avoiding any sudden movements that might attract any attention and spotted a large troop of Orcs storming their way across the forest at a distance of 50 meters away.

Cursing inwardly, Polities noticed a group of robed individuals among the Orcs, but one of them clearly stood out among them, as that individual exuded an aura of pure evilness to his elven senses. He double-tapped his comms, alerting the team that the target had been spotted in Area B.

------------------------

Emperor Maximo and the other command staff stood around the tactical display table, their eyes shifting between the map spread across its surface and the various screens showing UAV footage and live helmet-cam feeds from the Tempest Scion teams.

The room was thick with tension as everyone's eyes were bloodshot from a long night of waiting, sustained only by endless cups of coffee as they watched the displays and waiting for reports of the mission to come in. Yet hours had passed by without any word, and most of the staff had retired to rest when, finally, the call came in that the target had been sighted.

Now, the room was packed once more as the command staff crowded around the displays. "The Necromancer has a heavy escort this time," one politician remarked. "Should we call off the mission and wait for another opportunity?"

"Have Omega-191 hold position and keep eyes on the target," Maximo responded without hesitation. "Leave the decision to abort or proceed to them, they know the situation best."

------------------------

[-on your own tactical discretion,] The voice crackled into Specialist Sergeant Riley's comms. He muttered a curse under his breath, frustrated by the convenient absolution of responsibility.

'What a great way to deny all involvement in this shit,' he thought.

He glanced down at his tablet, which displayed the positions of his divided team. Squad One consisted of Mason and Woods, Squad Two was Tavish and Belinski, while Squad Three had Price and Polities.

Riley quickly adjusted the map, nudging Squad One and Squad Three toward Squad Two's position. Squad Three would act as a blocking force to cover any potential retreat route for the target, while Squad One was tasked with supporting Squad Two in the assault.

Peeking out from his cover, Riley tried to catch a glimpse of the Orcs in the distance, but the clustered tree trunks prevented his line of sight. "Squad Two, what's your tactical situation? Over."

[Heavy escort,] Tavish whispered back through the comms. [At least a dozen Orcs, two were armed with their handmade firearms, four mages of unknown magical capability, and the target. Over.]

"Heading?" Riley asked back, studying the digital map on his tablet and watched the icons of his team as they crept into position while being careful to avoid detection.

[Target appears to be heading to Cemetery Site B.] Tavish responded. [They will arrive within 15 minutes.]

"Squad One and Three, you heard that?" Riley comms over the all unit channel, "You got less than 15 minutes to get into position."

Acknowledgments clicked back over the comms as Squad One and Squad Three tapped their mics. Riley quickly scanned his surroundings, making sure he was still alone, then pulled the smart camo netting off, rolling it up and storing it in his Spatial Ring, before unclipping the carabiner from his harness and slid down the tree trunk.

After a quick stretch to shake off the stiffness of lying still for so long, he moved in the fastest possible speed and ghosted his way through the forest without attracting the attention of the rowdy patrolling Orcs.

Finding a nice vantage point beneath the massive roots of an ancient tree, Riley braced his AF-2 carbine against the roots and spotted movement between the trees, and luckily for them, the target was headed right toward the traps they'd set up the previous night.

[Squad One in position,] Mason's low, breathless voice came through Riley's comms. [We got movement here, eyes on the Target.]

"Squad Three, are you ready?" Riley whispered.

[Negative,] Price replied. [Too many patrols. We need more time to get into position.]

"Damn," Riley cursed under his breath. "Should I order the team to stand down or go ahead?" He weighed his options as he looked up from his hiding spot to see the first half of the Orc group had entered into the clearing. "Squad Three!" he hissed into the mic.

[Almost there!] Polities' reply came back, as the entire group of Orcs was now in the clearing, standing directly within the kill zone of the claymores.

[...We're here!] Polities finally reported.

"Price!" Riley whispered urgently into his mic. "Take the shot. Take it!" He held his breath, silently praying for success.

------------------------

Price lay comfortably on top of a wide, moss-covered tree branch, his smart camo netting his whole body up, save for the large, bulky silencer attached to his AF-3 Magekiller. The thick, matte-black silencer, measuring 40 cm in length, jutted out from the edge of his netting and blended into the shadows. If not for the bipod supporting his weapon, aiming such a heavy weapon would have been nearly impossible.

He had zeroed his scope for a distance of 100 meters, practically point-blank for a sniper of his caliber while ignoring the usual considerations of wind and trajectory. At this range, sniping was nearly a matter of knife-fighting as he opted for a 4x magnification scope instead of the standard 6x or even 10x options that would have narrowed his field of vision and compromised his ability to track other enemies in close distance without succumbing to tunnel vision.

As he listened to the background chatter of Squad Three racing against time to reach their blocking position buzzing in his earpiece, Price kept his crosshairs slightly aimed away of the hooded target.

After fighting and being chased by a literal army of superhumans, he believed that aiming directly at the target might sense or feel his presence, a risk he wasn't willing to take.

Finally, as the entire group stepped into the clearing, Squad Three reported they were in position, and Polities heard Specialist Sergeant Riley whisper his name.

[Take the shot! Take it!]

Without hesitation nor pause, Price swung his scope to center on the target and squeezed the trigger.

BANG!!

The muffled boom of the heavy weapon echoed in the air, and the fire was followed by a cloud of gun smoke that momentarily obscured his view. He quickly cycled the bolt, sending a massive .50 caliber Adamantite round spiraling down toward the forest floor.

Now, he had to rely on his elf partner Polities to relay the results of his shot and confirm the kill.

----------------------

Polities slowly rose to a crouch, balancing properly on the tree branch and readied his AF-2 Magespitter in response to Riley's command to take the shot. Less than a second later, a thump echoed, followed by a cloud of acrid smoke erupted from the upper branches where Price lay hidden, and Polities quickly focused on the target, watching it propelled backward by the force of the high caliber anti-magic round.

"Good hit!" Polities whispered with excitement over the team comms. "Target down!"

"Wait and hold position," Riley commanded as he quickly unfastened his binoculars to survey the crowd gathering around the fallen Necromancer. "Ensure the target is dead. We need to behead it!"

"No movement from the target on my side," Tavish from Squad Two reported. "But the Orcs are getting restless."

"Take them all out! Make sure no one escapes!" Riley ordered again, keeping a close watch on the anxious Orcs' movements as they shifted around the clearing.

"Roger!" came the responses, and several muffled pops echoed through the air as smoke clouds erupted around the clearing, signaling that Squad One and Squad Two had engaged the Orcs. In less than ten minutes, the area was littered with dead bodies.

"Squad One, move in! Make sure none are alive!" Riley directed, urging his men forward.

Squad Two emerged silently from the undergrowth, their boots barely making a sound on the forest floor thanks to Polities' minor spell [Silent Movement].

The two Special Operatives advanced in tactical formation, side by side, each covering their designated firing arcs and sector. They headed straight for the target, purposefully ignoring everything else in their singular focus.

Specialist Lance Corporal Mason approached the target's body cautiously. He exchanged a quick glance with his partner, Woods, who nodded and kept watch, ready to cover him from his side. Mason took a step closer and delivered a double tap to the head of the hooded figure, just to be sure.

As the bullets smacked into the hooded figure's head, Mason suddenly felt an unsettling chill ran down his spine.

"It's not dead yet!" he exclaimed, firing three more rounds into the figure's skull.

Suddenly, the hooded figure twisted and rose its feet in an unnatural way as it stared at Mason from the shadows of its hood.

Reacting quickly, Mason and Woods immediately fired into the center mass of the target, seeing their bullets hammered into the figure, pushing it back and jerking backward from the force of the bullets.

Thanks to their Mithril armor, which enhanced their physical abilities, they remained unfazed by the painful and violent recoil of their Automatic Magic Rifles without issue, weapons that would have surely shattered a normal human's shoulder.

"Die! You son of a bitch!" Woods shouted, his voice filled with rage as he and Mason emptied an entire magazine of 30 magic rounds directly into the Necromancer's body.

"Fall back!" Riley yelled at Squad One. They quickly obeyed the command and retreated while firing as they went. A muffled thump echoed through the trees as another .50 caliber round slammed into the target's head, sending it flopping backward. "Hit it with everything you've got!"

In the next instant, both Riley, Mason, Woods, Tavish, and Belinski opened fire and unleashed a barrage of gunfire as their silenced weapons popped and thumped in the clearing. Riley watched as the Necromancer jerked and danced under the impacts of their bullets.

Suddenly, the fallen Orcs stood up and formed a meat shield around the Necromancer, sending chunks of flesh and dark red blood splattering across the clearing.

"His magical defenses must be weakening!" Belinski shouted over the team channel. "It's using the dead to recover!"

"Fuck!" Riley cursed again. By now the racket made by their silenced weapons and the rising gun smoke should have alerted even the dumbest Orcs. "Go loud!"

Hearing the order, Belinski quickly dropped his AF-2 on its sling and reached into his Spatial Ring. In an instant, he pulled forth his pump-action shotgun as the weapon materialized from the small pocket dimension into his hand, filled with a five-round magazine tube that was loaded with experimental explosive shells. Each shell contained a hollow slug packed with as much black powder as could be compressed and surrounded by dozens of ball bearings. Tapered at the nose of each slug were a pair of wafer-thin disks carved with fire-igniting runes.

When the explosive slug impacted any hard surface, the twin rune wafers would collapse together and ignite the compressed black powder into a flame like an impact fuse. The resulting explosion would scatter the ball bearings in a deadly hemisphere effect, capable of killing or maiming any creature within a five-meter radius.

Belinski aimed at the wall of corpses and fired just as Tavish drew out his own shotgun and squeezed the trigger a second later. The resulting explosion obliterated through the Orc bodies, transforming them into a mass of unidentified meat chunks and offal. A second explosive slug detonated moments later, ripping through the remains and collapsing the corpse wall inward.

An unearthly cry erupted from the small mound of bodies as the Necromancer emerged, its robes tattered and riddled with bullet holes, while its hood was torn away.

To everyone's surprise, beneath the frayed fabric was a feminine elvish face, with lifeless eyes staring back at them, and the skin adorned with sanity-defying tattoos that writhed like living shadows.



"Holy shit, that isn't an Orc!"

But the shotgunners didn't stop shooting as they continued emptying their magazine tubes into the Necromancer and showering the female elf in a storm of hundreds of ball bearings, enveloping her in clouds of smoke and explosive debris.

[We got an incoming enemy from the Orc Camp!] Price yelled in the comms. [Engaging!]

"Squad Three, keep them off our backs while we kill the Necromancer!" Riley ordered, slapping a fresh magazine into his weapon. "Switch to elemental magic rounds!"

Hearing his command, the rest of the team switched ammunition to elemental magic rounds and fired a stream of bullets upon the Necromancer. The air filled with fiery explosions, crackling lightning, and freezing shards of ice as they bombarded the figure from all sides.

Meanwhile from a distance, Polities extended his left hand and formed a seal-like gesture with his fingers as two small blue-white magical circles materialized before his hand. He began to chant, weaving a spell circle and channeling energy into a bolt of lightning that struck the smoke-shrouded figure, provoking another unearthly scream.

"Why won't this thing die?" Tavish shouted in frustration as he reloaded his shotgun with more explosive shells.

Suddenly, the Necromancer leaped out of the smoke and charged directly at him, but Tavish dove out of the way and quickly rose on one knee.

At the same time, he dropped his empty shotgun, drawing his AF-2 from his Spatial Ring in a quick switch similar to FPS games and fired at the side of the Necromancer, causing it to flinch.

"DIE, YOU WITCH! DIE!" Tavish screamed at the creature, whose feminine elvish face and lifeless eyes showed no emotion, only a mouth that opened wide.

But the moment he caught a glimpse of the chaotic tattoos swirling across her skin, Tavish felt an unsettling itch in his mind and strange chaotic whispers clawing in his ears.

"What in the he-... AHHHHH!!"

"Don't look at it!" Riley shouted as he charged into the clearing and fired his AF-2 at the back of the Necromancer. Dark splatters of ichor burst out, and wisps of black smoke erupted from the blood splats on the ground as it corroded what it touched.

"WARGHHHHH!!!!"



The Necromancer released a terrifying scream that felt like it could rupture eardrums, enveloping its body in a black mist and dark tendrils growing from its back, reaching out like claws.

"FOR DE HOOORRRRDE!!"

Like a ghost, the Necromancer vanished, and Mason sensed something wrong and immediately sprinted toward Tavish to tackle him just in time to avoid a deadly swipe from the Necromancer's sword-like claws as it appeared behind him instantly out of thin air.

Tavish, who was transfixed by the rune tattoos on the Necromancer's face, was barely aware as his mouth started to drool.

The Necromancer opened its mouth and let out another ear-piercing scream as its intended victim snatched from its grasp. But just as it was about to charge at Tavish again, it suddenly toppled backward again as a .50 caliber Adamantite round blew its left shoulder, sending a massive spray of smoking ichor across half the clearing.

"Back!" Riley shouted, reaching Tavish and Mason's side and helped drag Tavish away from the danger as the latter slowly regained his senses.

"Hit the explosives!" Tavish shouted at Belinski, who quickly pulled out the detonator, cranking it to create an electric current before squeezing the trigger.

The daisy-chained black powder claymore mines, positioned to face the center of the clearing, detonated as one. Eight mines exploded, each unleashing 700 steel balls at a staggering velocity of 1,018 m/s.

The Necromancer struggled to its feet and cursed just as 5,600 steel balls ripped through the clearing and shredded everything in their path apart.

"SOFT SKINS! ELDA WILL BE BACK!! AN' YE WILL BE PART UV MA SLAV-"

Spurt!