The arrival of the men in green and the existence of their communicator devices ignited a spark of hope for salvation throughout the masses. Word of these new developments spread quickly, promising salvation to those who had long been downtrodden. But not everyone was convinced. Some remained skeptical, and it was only a matter of time before someone reported the news to the authorities.

And that day finally came as soldiers from the city marched into the villages, determined to confirm the rumors themselves.

In a dimly lit room, a group of men huddled together in a secret meeting, talking about various things.

"Here are the exits of the palace," one of them said, unfurling a map. "Though it is usually heavily guarded by guards, there is a certain time of the day when they change shifts, and that is where we have a chance to slip in."

Surprised murmurs filled the room, and one man leaned forward with eyes widened.

"Oh, I see. Our brother is truly reliable," he said, nodding in approval. "I bet those Tarxan authorities would never suspect that the very people they’ve treated as inferiors are preparing to rise against them."

The first speaker raised his hand for silence.

"Remember, let us not act too suspiciously," he urged. "We cannot afford to draw attention. Our benefactors are depending on us. The day of liberation that was foretold by the prophet has come. Let us all help them as much as possible and must do everything in our power to ensure a better future for our people and our children."

The room grew solemn, a few of the men visibly moved by his words and other people around the table had their expression turned into almost something teary eyed. One of them stepped forward and spoke in his voice thick with emotion.

"Let us live to see the day of our liberation! To the common cause!" he declared with his fist raised.

Cheers erupted around the table as all the men chatted merrily happily, seeing the one they had hoped for so long was finally coming to fruition. They knew they were placing their faith in these green-clad men and their mysterious devices, but what other choice did they have? For the first time in their lives, they felt hope, and the fires of revolution were now burning bright within them.

It was only a matter of time.

————————————————————————

Kingdom of High Tarxa, Near High Elven Ville, In A Forest, Village Of Inferiors

1st Year of God, Tuesday, 1st Week, Month Of Jacob

A man that was of tattered nature was rushing towards a location as if his entire life depended on it. His shoes were already broken and his feet bleeding profusely with each step, yet he keeps on marching towards his intended location, driven by desperation.

His face was caked in dried blood with his throat parched, and hunger was going around his head, making the very ground beneath his feet seem like food in his delirium. However, he preserved and pushed himself toward the faint outline of a village that appeared on the horizon, which made him quickened his pace and staggered faster until he collapsed at the village entrance.

Unconscious, he lay there while the villagers slowly gathered around out of curiosity. After a tense pause, someone finally stepped forward to help. They carried the man to one of their homes, cleaned his wounds, and washed the dirt from his body. All that was left was to wait for him to wake.

Hours passed in silence until the man finally showed some signs of awakening. As his eyes fluttered open, he was in a state of panic and confusion. Immediately, he shot up and shouted wildly.

"Q-Quick! All of you, you need to evacuate now!" His voice was frantic, full of terror.

The villagers, alarmed, drew closer and listened on his every word.

"The Tarxan Authorities… they got hold of information about the men in green, and the communicator devices. They destroyed my village, massacred everyone, when they found one. Now they’re sweeping through all the villages, collecting every communicator they can find. This place is one of the last still standing! You have to flee, before it’s too late!" The man was panic-stricken, crying out as he is barely catching his breath.

After hearing the situation, chaos erupted as the villagers panicked, running in all over the surroundings and tried to gather everything they could bring in a frenzied attempt to escape the wrath of the Tarxan Authorities.

People were pushed down and stumbled in the confusion as the villagers were running around, which caused the villagers to suffer some injuries and, most tragically, a fatality.

The one who suffered the fatality was none other than a child, who had been playing outside the house where the man was brought in. The poor child was stepped on non-stop his small body was crushed by the crowd until it couldn't breathe anymore.

When the rush subsided, the child lay lifeless on the ground. The boy’s mother collapsed beside him, her anguished cries filling the air as she cradled her deformed, unbreathing child.

The house that had been filled with life just moments ago now felt hollow, save for the man and the grieving family. The man rose and spoke in a softer voice now as he addressed those still in the room.

"Um, if it’s alright for you," he said cautiously, "Can you show me where the communicator device is? We should destroy it before the authorities get here."

The father, shaken by his child’s death, nodded. He led the man to a small room where the communicator device was hidden.

The man gazed at the device and, to the villagers’ surprise, a smirk crept across his face. He turned to them and offered his thanks.

"W-Wait," the father stammered in confusion, "Aren’t we going to destroy it?"

The man’s expression softened and his eyes filled with a strange mixture of pity and sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "But this is the only way I can save my family… and my village."

He pulled a crystal from his tattered clothes and crushed it in his hand. Instantly, a massive magical circle appeared beneath the village, glowing ominously as it began to hum with power.

Realizing the man's betrayal, the husband of the household flew into a rage. He charged at the man and delivered a hard punch, but it was too late as the magic formation had already completed, and dozens of armed magicians materialized within the village.

Upon seeing the armed magicians, the villagers became even more panic-stricken as they scattered in all directions, desperate to escape. The traitorous man, however, fell to his knees before the magicians.

"My lord, this village indeed has a communicator device. I’ve seen it myself. It’s hidden in the house behind me."

The lord smirked and cast a glance at the traitor, then proceeded toward the house without a word, but the man called out behind him.

"And… about my family and village, my lord?"

The lord stopped, his smirk widening into something more sinister.

"Yes, yes. You’ll be able to see them soon."

Relief washed over the man’s face. But the lord’s next words pierced through his heart.

"Oh, and I must say," the lord added maliciously, "Your wife was quite delicious. Her screams of agony were music to my ears. And your daughter, even more so, such youth, such beauty… It was a pleasure and really contributed to my entertainment!" He chuckled darkly. "But don't worry, you'll join them soon enough… in the afterlife, if such a thing even exists. HAHAHAHA!!"

The lord laughed, and the other armed magicians laughed too.

The man froze, his blood boiling as the truth sank in. His family had been murdered, and now he was the final piece of their cruel game.

Rage built up inside him as he cursed them inwardly. However, he wasn't able to keep all his rage inside and so he let it out.

"You basta-"

But before he could even voice his fury, the lord smiled and casually gave him a backhand slap, which blew the man’s head away, leaving behind a headless body, spurting blood like a fountain and painting the area with blood.

"Hmph, an inferior dares speak back to me?"

The lord turned toward his men and stood before them with cold authority.

"Everyone!" he commanded, "Kill the men and capture the women! We could use them as sex slaves and sell them into the market later on. Today, we revel!"

The magicians grinned and their eyes gleamed with savage anticipation. Without hesitation, they charged into the village, storming houses and searching the surrounding woods. The men were cut down where they stood, while the women were dragged away and their screams echoed through the once-peaceful village.

The lord, basking in the chaos, turned his gaze toward the scene behind him, where a woman knelt by the body of her lifeless child with a fisheye, broken.

The lord smirked and strode toward her, grabbed her by the arm, and forced her onto the nearest table. Her screams filled the air, but to the lord, they were only the soundtrack of his conquest.

All around the village, similar horrors unfolded, women, powerless to resist, were brutalized while the magicians laughed and cheered, caught up in their monstrous spree.

——————————————————————

Kingdom of High Tarxa, New Tarxa, Near High Elven Ville, In A Forest, In A Austronesian Military Encampment.

1st Year of God, Tuesday, 1st Week, Month Of Jacob

"Take cover! Get down! Get down!" a man furiously shouted.

Hearing their commanding officer’s urgent orders, the nearby soldiers immediately dropped to the ground and pressed themselves flat against the dirt. However, the man who exposed their location felt unfamiliar with the language and bewildered by their actions as he stood there frozen. Confusion clouded his mind as he watched the soldiers, unsure if they were surrendering before the battle even began.

‘Are these really our benefactors?’ he wondered as his thoughts were racing.

He glanced ahead, where the battlefield was soon to erupt. The lights from the magical formations intensified, and the air crackled with energy. Humanoid forms began to take shape within the glow, and despite the tension, the man couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sight. But he reminded himself, he had to act carefully. He couldn’t afford to offend the magicians, not while his family and fellow villagers were still in their grasp.

In an instant, the magical forms solidified, revealing the magicians.

"Here they come!" the commanding officer barked.

As soon as he said that, fifteen magicians now stood on the area.

"Fire!" the officer shouted.

The night lit up with flashing gunfire as dozens of flashing lights came before the eyes of the magicians as they had just arrived.

“Ugh!”

“Gargh!!”

Cries of pain echoed as two magicians fell before they could react as their bodies hit the ground just as they were about to move.

If they were normal humans, none of them would survive and be shredded to pieces, but most of them were not ordinary humans as they were protected by their passive magical barriers and managed to survive the initial onslaught. Many were able to find an excellent cover, some diving behind sacks of flour and used anything in sight to shield themselves from the assault.

The roar of gunfire shook the battlefield and filled the magicians with an unfamiliar dread. Never before had they encountered such a relentless barrage of attacks. Desperate to regain control, they began casting their spells. But each time they tried, another volley of bullets cut through the air and forced them to abort their incantations before they could unleash their magic.

The magicians were caught off guard. They hadn’t expected their adversaries to wield such powerful forces. In their minds, the soldiers' weapons had to be magic of some kind, no ordinary tools could create such a devastating display of light and sound. The magicians struggled to comprehend the rapid-fire explosions and whistling wind they faced, convinced their enemies were using advanced combinations of light, explosive, and wind magic.

Yet, it wasn’t magic at all, it was something far more terrifying, something they couldn’t yet understand.

Meanwhile, the special operations soldiers unleashed a barrage of suppressive fire with their heavy machine guns and assault rifles, their weapons set to full automatic. The goal was simple, which is to keep the enemy magicians pinned down and prevent them from casting their spells. The soldiers knew that unlike firearms, which could be fired blindly, magic required precision and visual contact with a target, and they couldn’t afford to let the magicians have that chance.

"Frag out!" one of the soldiers shouted as he hurled a grenade toward the enemy.

The explosion of foreign words confused the magicians. It was clear now that these enemies spoke an unfamiliar language, meaning they could be part of a foreign kingdom. The magicians, loyal to their nation, saw this as an unforgivable act of war, and a potential coup or revolution being orchestrated by outsiders.

But before they could think about it further, a grenade landed directly in front of one of the magicians. At first, the magician reached for it, his first thought was try to grab it, but a sudden sense of danger made him leap back. However, he was too late as a thunderous explosion rocked the battlefield, tearing him apart.

Nearby magicians were thrown to the ground, severely injured by the blast. The others watched in horror as their comrades fell, knowing it would take vast amounts of mana to heal such devastating wounds.

Meanwhile, the man who had summoned the magicians was cowering, paralyzed by fear. He had never imagined that the mysterious foreign soldiers could stand toe-to-toe with the magicians, let alone kill a few of them. From time to time, he peeked out from his hiding place, and his disbelief grew as more magicians collapsed, lifeless on the battlefield.

Wanting to observe more, he crawled to a better vantage point and stayed low to the ground. He began to understand that the strange weapons his benefactors wielded were like muskets, but faster, far more deadly.

The magicians, realizing they were overwhelmed, pulled out their Communication Magic Artifacts to call for reinforcements.

"First reconnaissance squad, reporting! The enemy is using repeating muskets! I repeat, we need immediate reinforcements! The enemy may be from another nation, though we are still not certain, but the likelihood is high!" one of the magicians spoke into the artifact.

In desperation, they crushed magic crystals, and within moments, dozens of magic circles appeared on the ground, forming intricate formations. The special operations soldiers, sensing the incoming danger, began to retreat in an orderly fashion.

"Commander, what about our temporary base?" one of the soldiers asked in a tense voice.

The commander, feeling calm under pressure, replied, "We are compromised. Fall back to the beachhead and return to the submarine with utmost speed. Destroy anything we can’t carry. We can't let them get their hands on the intelligence we have possessed, even if they don’t understand our language. Make sure the base is obliterated!" He replied with a strong demeanor.

The soldiers ceased fire momentarily to ready their grenades. The magicians, sensing an opportunity, raised their heads from cover, but what they saw next was unexpected when several objects were flying toward them.

They instinctively fired their magic at the incoming projectiles, but to their dismay, many of these were incendiary and explosive grenades. The moment the magic made contact, a series of fiery detonations erupted across the battlefield. Flames engulfed the area, and several magicians were caught in the blaze.

As the magicians struggled to recover, the dozen magic formations they'd activated finally completed.

Reinforcements, around a hundred magicians, appeared in the middle ot the chaos. But instead of joining the battle immediately, they found themselves surrounded by fire, forcing them to summon water magic to extinguish the flames before they could engage the retreating soldiers.

The special operations unit, however, was already pulling back and moved swiftly toward the exit of their base, knowing they had bought themselves precious time.

After the fire was extinguished, the magicians summoned a large mana barrier. A newly arrived magician, who appeared more experienced than the rest, sneered at her comrades.

"Idiots! You dare call yourselves magicians? You should’ve just summoned a mana barrier from the start to stop those bullets!" the captain magician shouted.

She had a point. Her mana barrier, which she formed effortlessly, withstood the barrage of gunfire from the 7.62mm rounds to the heavier .50 caliber shots. Even the grenades, which had caused so much devastation earlier, barely made an impact.

The captain, a Level 8 magician with enough mana to rival a battle tank, led the other magicians forward, confident that they now had the upper hand.

“Sir, our rounds aren’t doing anything! We can’t even retrieve the anti-tank weapons as they’re stuck behind enemy lines! The new Magic Rifles haven’t been delivered yet either,” a soldier reported in frustration.

"Do we still have that one AF-3 we borrowed from the other team?" the commander asked.

The soldier’s eyes widened. Nodding quickly, he retrieved the AF-3 “Magekiller” Magic Sniper Rifle from his Spatial Ring and prepared to fire.

“Take out that barrier!” the commander ordered.

The soldier, without hesitation, set up the massive sniper rifle and aimed at the advancing magicians, feeling their confidence swelling as they moved closer. The captain magician, smug behind her mana barrier, believed they had the advantage. But reality would be crueler than any spell.

With a deafening crack, the AF-3 fired and launched a 30mm Adamantite round at the barrier. At the same time, the sheer force of the shot knocked the soldier off his feet, likely breaking his shoulder from the recoil.

The captain magician barely had time to react as her supposedly impenetrable mana barrier shattered under the impact of the Adamantite round. Her eyes widened in shock, but before she could comprehend what had happened, the round tore through her abdomen, bypassing her protective magic and leaving a “fourth hole” in her body.

To the horror of the magicians, the bullet isn't finished yet as it continued on its deadly path, tearing through several other magicians, shredding their mana barriers and flesh alike as through they were mere paper.

In an instant, over half the magicians were cut down by a single shot.

Miraculously, the captain survived, though gravely wounded. She quickly cast a healing spell on herself as her body trembled from the shock and pain. But her relief was short-lived.

Determined to avenge their fallen comrades, those capable of double-casting magic were daredevil enough to charge toward the retreating special operations soldiers and erect mana barriers as they sprinted forward. At the same time, they cast earth and ice magic to strike the soldiers down.

But their mana barriers, though strong, were no match for the focused firepower of the special operations team. Many magicians fell before they could complete their spells as their barriers crumbled under the gunfire barrage. Those who made it through managed to land a few spells, one ice spike found its mark, impaling a soldier and leaving him profusely bleeding.

The commander, assessing the dire situation, searched for a solution. His eyes scanned the battlefield, landing on several unexploded bombs near the remaining magicians. Without wasting a second, he aimed his assault rifle and pulled the trigger.

A massive explosion ripped through the air and sent shockwaves across the battlefield. Dozens of magicians were vaporized in the blast, forcing the survivors to regroup and help their wounded. Despite their superiority in magic, the loss of so many trained magicians was a devastating blow, and they knew it would take years to recover.

The special operations soldiers, seeing the surviving magicians starting to retreat, took the opportunity to disengage. One soldier grabbed their injured comrade and huddled him over his shoulder as the others laid down suppressive fire. They slowly retreated and stayed focused on keeping their exit clear. Once they reached a safe distance, they moved deeper into the forest.

The magicians, though enraged, gave chase. Just as they neared the entrance to the underground area, the commander of the special ops team, positioned at a safe distance and pulled out a detonator for the numerous C4s that his men had already set up.

"Go to hell," he muttered before pressing the trigger.

Click!

BOOOOOOOMMMM—!

The ground erupted in a deafening explosion, shaking the forest as the underground base was obliterated in a fiery blaze. Dirt and debris shot into the air as the earth seemed to cave in on itself. The explosion consumed everything in its radius as the remnants of their temporary base, their equipment, and many of the magicians who had been caught underground.

Even as the team retreated into the forest, they didn’t allow themselves to relax, knowing that the magicians could potentially survive the blast, so they disappeared into the trees and moved quickly but cautiously.

Back in the smoking remains of the underground base, a shimmering mana barrier stood in the middle of the destruction. The captain magician, severely drained, had managed to summon it just in time to save herself and a handful of other magicians. As the magical dome faded, revealing the charred landscape around them, the captain stood with clenched fists and fury radiated from her.

Of 100 magicians initially summoned, only 15 remained.

"Ten of you, find them!" the captain bellowed. "Bring them to me alive! I will torture them myself!"

Without hesitation, ten of the magicians cast their physical enhancement spells and boosted their speed and strength before sprinting into the forest, moving with inhuman agility. One of them leaped from tree to tree, while the others darted through the dense undergrowth with unnatural grace.

"George, use your tracking magic!" one magician called out.

The magician, skilled in the art of tracking, muttered a quick incantation. His magic allowed him to detect any movement within a kilometer, and he quickly picked up the faint traces of the retreating soldiers.

"I found them! They're just a few hundred meters ahead!"

Hearing his words, the magicians increased their speed and moved skillfully through the forest like shadows as they felt their prey was within reach.

Meanwhile, back at the ruined base, the captain magician took her frustration out on the man who had led them to the soldiers. The man’s desperate plea for mercy fell on deaf ears as the magicians believed he had betrayed them and used the artifact they'd given him to ambush them. The captain, savoring the man's pain, tortured him relentlessly before ending his life.

To vent her rage further, the captain issued a cruel order.

"Kill the rest of his village, except for the women. They'll be useful later. We'll sell them in the market after you boys were done having your fun while I'll finish mine."

Her voice was cold and merciless, with no trace of the regret she felt for the fallen magicians, only a deep, burning desire for revenge.

————————————————————————

From the darkest depths of the ocean, a massive machine thundered along the seafloor. It was an Austronesian Nuclear Submarine, pushing its engines to the limit as it sped toward its new mission.

Just earlier, urgent orders had just come in that the special operations squad had been compromised and needed immediate extraction. Abandoning its ongoing task of mapping the topography of the ocean, the submarine, being the closest in range, shifted course.

Above, the situation was growing more dire by the minute as the firefight between the special forces and their enemies became more intense as the magicians had begun to adapt to the soldiers’ tactics, making the fight increasingly problematic. To make matters worse, one of the squad members was injured, further complicating their retreat.

Ammunition was running dangerously low, which means if they ran out of ammunition, they are basically dead meat out in the wild. What little they had left had to be rationed carefully, as the bulk of their supplies had been left behind at their camp, now obliterated in an earlier assault.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Balls of explosions reverberate throughout the entire surroundings, scattering debris and shrapnel over the squad. Bark, soil, and splinters rained down as the soldiers returned fire with their dwindling supply of semi-automatic and automatic weapons. Unable to provide suppressive fire, they shot only when sure they could hit, conserving every last bullet.

When a rare shot hit its mark, it wasn’t enough to kill the enemy outright, but it did slow the magicians down, sometimes, that was all they needed.

"There's one in the trees!" a soldier exclaimed as he fired a stream of bullets from his machine gun at an elf standing in the branches above.

On the far side of the squad, a special operations soldier knelt and applied first aid to the injured comrade, who, despite his condition, was still returning fire with a pistol. The heavier weapon he normally carried was out of the question as his injuries made it impossible to maintain balance, so he relied on the lighter, more manageable pistol.

Meanwhile, on another flank, a soldier reloaded his assault rifle, glancing over at the injured man and the one tending to him.

"How much longer?" he called out.

The soldier administering first aid shouted back under the noise of battle, "Just a little longer, Captain!"

The captain nodded, finished reloading, and resumed firing. Moments later, the medic completed his work.

"Captain, he's ready! We can move at your command!" the medic called.

The captain looked back and gave the signal for everybody to move. Without hesitation, the medic helped the injured soldier to his feet and retreated with him while the rest of the squad covered their movement and fired as they fell back.

The ranks of the magicians were quickly increasing as more reinforcements were entering the fray. However, most of them huddled behind trees for cover, wary of the squad’s return fire. They relied on a deadly combination of explosive, light, and wind magic to support their musket fire. Occasionally, a magician would peek out to cast a spell while others tried to draw the soldiers' attention, hoping to create an opening for a clean shot.

But the special forces were immensely quick witted, adapting to the battle with sharp reflexes and avoided many of the incoming attacks.

Time was running out, and the magicians were taking heavy casualties. So far, the newly arrived reinforcements were skilled only in fire magic, and were of little help to those already entrenched.

The lack of variety in their elemental attacks frustrated the more experienced magicians, who had relied on a broader arsenal. Their inability to wield other elements put them at a stark disadvantage against the enemy, who had shown proficiency in blending multiple magical elements.

There was something else troubling the magicians. They couldn't sense the slightest trace of magic or mana from their enemies. It was as though they were facing non-magical beings, similar to the inferiors. But the enemy’s ability to use advanced, multi-element magic defied that assumption. It was perplexing, to say the least.

To make matters stranger, the enemy wielded repeating muskets, an unheard-of innovation, previously thought to be a mere hypothetical idea.

Traditionally, muskets could only be operated by those with a minimum amount of mana, which fueled the shots.

The magicians assumed their enemy was running low on both mana and ammunition, as their firing had become increasingly conservative. Convinced the opposing forces would soon need to rest and recover, the magicians intensified their assault, believing they had the upper hand.

Meanwhile, the special operations soldiers were retreating at a very rapid pace, as they had received word that the Austronesian nuclear submarine was nearing their location, and reinforcements were on the way.

Relief washed over them. This was really good, as they no longer had to resort to inflating the landing craft they had carried, which was a cumbersome task requiring valuable manpower. Using it would have left them vulnerable and risked being annihilated during the critical moments of set-up. But now, with the submarine closing in, they felt a renewed sense of hope.

As the special operations soldiers dashed toward their extraction point, disaster struck as one soldier tripped and sprained his foot, rendering him unable to move. They were close to the rendezvous point, but stopping to rescue him meant everyone would be running and no one would be able to provide cover fire. The captain faced a grim dilemma. The injured soldier, in agony, pleaded for the squad to leave him behind, fearing he would become a burden.

But the captain refused to abandon him. He ordered the medic, still carrying the previously wounded soldier, to continue the retreat, while he stayed back to rescue the newly injured. With the magicians closing in fast, they were in a tragic situation.

Suddenly, the captain had an idea. He grabbed all the grenades he had and handed a few to the injured soldier, who immediately caught on to the plan. The captain primed two smoke grenades, throwing one near them and the other in a different direction to confuse the enemy about their true location.

Within the billowing clouds of smoke, the captain picked up the injured soldier onto his back and ordered him to pull the pins on the flashbang grenades, throwing them into the thick of the approaching magicians. As the enemies stumbled through the smoke, they were blinded by successive bursts of light, disoriented and momentarily immobilized, just the opportunity the captain and the soldier needed.

With the magicians confused, the two made their escape and slipped through the forest before the enemy could recover. Soon, they emerged from the treeline and were met by the rest of the squad, along with reinforcements, who stood at the ready to pounce on them with enough bullets for the living.

But it was only a joke, as they were too alert. But nevertheless, they were relieved it was them, not the enemy.

The rescued soldiers were quickly boarded into an inflatable boat that ferried them to the waiting nuclear submarine. Finally aboard, they were able to catch their breath as medics treated their wounds.

Safe at last, they knew they had narrowly escaped what could have been their final stand.