High above the sprawling land of Edgellaf Kingdom, a squadron of F-12 Phoenix fighter jets streaked across the cerulean sky, their engines roaring as they cruised at Mach 2.

At the helm of the lead jet was Flight Sergeant Wegos Laver, commander of Gold Group. Glancing down at his flight instruments, he frowned and rapped the side of the fuel gauge with a gloved hand. Satisfied with the reading, he noted the fuel level and flight time on a notepad strapped to his thigh with the pencil stub scratching hurriedly against the paper.

"Gold Group, check your fuel levels and report," he said, triggering his throat mic.

One by one, the responses came through.

[Gold Two, fuel at 47%, over.]

[Gold Four, fuel down to 48%, over.] [Five here, fuel at 45%, over.]

"Roger that," Wegos replied, doing a quick mental calculation. "Keep me updated when you're down to 35%. We’ve got about an hour of air time left, make it count."

High Command had launched their squadron from a Liberation Navy carrier earlier that day, tasking them with patrolling the Empire's border. But barely into their patrol when word came in that a dragon had ambushed the rescue team. The fighter escorts sent ahead had been wiped out, leaving Gold Group to rush in as the last line of support.

When they arrived, they found that the Men of Stone had managed to heavily wound the dragon, but the beast remained a dire threat.

Using the sun as cover and the element of surprise, Wegos directed his squad into action. Two jets peeled off and initiated high-side gun runs, firing their 20mm autocannons and several mana-infused missiles, which proved very effective in injuring the dragon as it roars of agony when the attacks ripped through its armored hide.

The beast, enraged but gravely injured, flailed in anger, and so Wegos and his wingman dove in to deliver the final blows with more autocannons chattering and missiles detonating in fiery bursts, tearing the once-mighty dragon to shreds and its remains crashed into the forest below.

Just as Wegos exhaled a rare moment of relief, his comms crackled to life.

[Gold Lead, this is Gold Four! Red smoke spotted! Repeat, red smoke sighted!]

“Damn it,” Wegos muttered, craning his neck to scan the treetops below. In the middle of the emerald expanse, he could see the faint tendrils of red smoke drifting out from a patch in the sea of trees.

Red smoke was a bad omen and marked the unmistakable presence of a Transcendent, while blue meant enemy troops, but red was far worse.

“All units, vector in over to the marked location!” Wegos ordered as he yanked his flight stick to adjust course. “Stand by for close air support!”

————————————————————————

Angelo watched the plume of red smoke from the smoke grenade spiraling above the forest canopy, hoping the air support would spot it through the dense foliage. Their comms had been rendered useless under the suffocating tree cover, and to make matters worse, the Dwarf Prince had chosen the absolute worst moment and the shittiest way possible to crash into their operation like a living storm.

Barks of AF-1 Magelocks erupted all around him as the squad of Special Operative soldiers fired their magic guns at the glowing figure wreathed in electric armor. The sheer amount of firepower kept the dwarf at bay, as his magical aura burned so intensely that nearby trees and underbrush began to smoke and smolder.

Out of the corner of his eye, Angelo saw two soldiers with him were dragging a wounded soldier toward cover.

“Medic!” he shouted. “Tend to that soldier now!”

Then he turned back to the fight. “RPG teams, load thermobaric rockets! Give that son of a bitch hell!”

The rocket crews quickly swapped out HEAT (High-Explosive Anti-Tank) warheads for thermobaric rockets marked with red bands.

Meanwhile, the dwarf tossed a few bolts of lightning into their ranks, searing flesh and igniting vegetation, making the soldiers scream in pain, though the soldiers' mithril armor saved them from being charred alive.

The tracer rounds from the AFMG-1s carved through the undergrowth like red lasers, their glowing paths following the prince's frantic movements as he weaved in and out from the trees with supernatural speed, moving like lightning as he used them as cover.

Despite his agility, moments of overconfidence exposed him to punishing fire as a burst of .338 rounds struck him dead-on, sending him sprawling as the impacts hammered against his enchanted armor.

“Enough of this!”

Dwalin growled as he dodged another line of gunfire that was firing his way. He panted and ducked behind a scorched tree, examining the dents and cracks spreading across his armor.

"Kraken’s tits,” he muttered.

Peering cautiously from behind his cover, he tried to locate the soldiers firing in the undergrowth, but their weapons flashed like phantom sprites and their bodies were camouflaged perfectly among the dense greenery.

“Cursed long-legs,” Dwalin hissed in frustration. His ever-present smile hardened into an expression of pure seriousness “You think your weapons and technology can best me? Let me show you the difference between our technological power and the true might of the mountain!”

As he gathered power for an ultimate spell, a shout rang out from the enemy line.

“There! One hundred meters behind the tree!”

An RPG team crouched down, while the assistant pointed at where the Dwarf Prince was hiding.

"Clear!"

"ONE ROUND AWAY!" The gunner called as the assistant adjusted the angle and fired, sending a smoking dart flaming its way over to the tree where the dwarf was behind and seconds later, a thunderous crack split the air as the tree exploded in a shower of smoke and splinters.

Dwalin barely had time to react before the blast wave slammed into him. His magic shield fluctuated and absorbed the brunt of the explosion, but the force rattled him to his core and felt his insides were like a troll had hammered him.

He rolled away and slammed against the twisted root of a massive tree before a bitter taste filled his mouth and a raw sweetness in his throat. When he coughed, a dark stream of blood splattered his hand.

“What…?” His eyes widened incredulously as he stared at the blood in his hands. “Injured? By primitives?”

His electric aura flickered, then surged as his anger boiled over. Ignoring the impacts of bullets ricocheting off the tree root and glancing against his armor, he rose slowly and his hands trembled, not from weakness, but from rage.

“I am the Son of Hammerfall,” Dwalin spoke, his voice echoing like a thunderclap. “I am the storm and the hammer that will crush my enemies!”

Almost immediately, his aura glowed violently and lit the forest in blinding arcs of electricity. The pain in his body evaporated, replaced by a searing fury. Examining his arms, he watched as cracks in his armor sealed themselves, and the glow of his power knitted the damage back together.

“I see now,” he said coldly. “These creatures wield weapons far beyond what I expected. But their strength pales in comparison to mine.”

As Dwalin clenched his fists, arcs of electricity danced between his fingers as the forest seemed to tremble under his growing power.

“Enough games,” he growled. “It’s time to stop playing around.”

————————————————————————

Angelo and the rest of his team executed their textbook flanking maneuver, moving quickly under the cover fire provided by the other Special Operative soldiers. They crouched low beside the gnarled roots of a massive tree, just a few trunks away from the Dwarf Prince’s position. Angelo turned to his squad, catching their eyes one by one, and wordlessly mimicked pulling a grenade pin and throwing it.

The team responded with sharp nods, each soldier dug out an egg-shaped black powder grenade from their belts and gripped the weapons tightly, ready for the signal.

Angelo raised his hand, fingers counting down from three.

Three.

Two.

One.

At the final count, pins were yanked in unison, and ten grenades were thrown through the air, their matte surfaces glinting faintly as they sailed toward the Dwarf Prince’s hiding spot. As they flew, the safety spoons spun away from the fuse and the protective covering for the fire runes was removed and the twin rune waffles touched each other and flared up, sending a large spark out which ignited the measured fuse, setting it burning down the thin tube.

The grenades hit the soft forest floor with dull thuds, bouncing and rolling erratically, but most landed close to the prince, who remained hunched in concentration, oblivious to the imminent danger as he gathered his power.

The fuses hissed and crackled, the seconds ticking away in agonizing silence. At precisely 4.7 seconds, the explosives exploded.

The cast-iron casings fractured into hundreds of jagged shards, unleashing a wave of lethal shrapnel in a devastating spherical blast. The explosion ripped through the undergrowth, sending dirt, leaves, and splinters flying in every direction. The concussive force shook the trees, scattering nearby birds into the sky.

Dwalin had just finished his incantation when he heard the faint thuds of objects hitting the ground around him. His eyes snapped open, and his expression froze as he recognized the olive-green grenades scattered at his feet.

“BASTARDS!”

And the world exploded.

————————————————————————

“GO, GO, GO!” Angelo yelled and charged forward the instant the grenades exploded. His team moved from cover in two tight groups of three with their weapons raised and moved toward the blast site.

Stepping over a massive tree root, Angelo swung his rifle toward where he expected to see the Dwarf Prince. Instead, he was greeted by smoldering craters and a dark wet stain splattered across the dirt that looked suspiciously like blood.

“Check your sectors!” he ordered and dropped into a crouch near the stain. The rest of the team fanned out, scanning the area with their weapons trained on the shadows. Angelo dipped a finger into the dark liquid, feeling its warmth. He brought the substance to his nose and sniffed.

“Blood,” he confirmed. “He’s hit. We got him.”

“If he’s bleeding, he’s pissed,” Marco muttered grimly as he tightened his grip on his weapon.

“Then be on alert,” Paulo snapped.

Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps broke the tense silence.

“Soldiers, watch it!” Angelo roared. “He’s wounded, but he’s still dangerous! Keep your eyes open!”

“CONTACT!” a soldier shouted and fired, followed by the rest as they fired toward a fleeting figure moving through the trees.

“Up in the trees! He’s running!” another called out.

“After him! Go!” Angelo commanded and sprinted after the shadow. “Kill that motherfucker!”

High above, Dwalin leapt from branch to branch while hugging his side. His electric aura had flickered out, drained after tanking all that damage from their weapons. Something from those weapons had hurt his side, and as he hopped from tree to tree, he felt warm wetness forming at his side. Looking down, he saw he was bleeding and he cursed again.

“Damn primitives,” he growled through gritted teeth, wincing as another burst of gunfire tore through the foliage around him and explosions of bark and leaves shadowed his path. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense!”

He pulled a high-grade mana potion from his Spatial Ring, biting off the stopper and downing its contents in a single gulp. Instantly, the liquid coursed through his veins and restored his strength.

“No more games,” he snarled as his eyes burned with fury and invoked his most powerful abilities.

“[Electro World]!”

But he isn't done yet as he began to use his second trump card, a power that had gifted him from his ancient bloodline.

“[Eye of Thunder]!!”

Suddenly as Angelo and the team of Special Operative Soldiers were chasing the dwarf prince, the entire forest erupted in a blinding storm of electricity. Bolts of lightning crackled across the battlefield, forcing Angelo and his team to halt as a surge of raw power filled the air. The soldiers’ enchanted armor absorbed the worst of the assault as their elemental resistance kept them from being reduced to ash.

Before they could recover, a second pulse of energy swept through, a concussive shockwave coupled with another electric surge that sent the team flying backward.

The troops yelled and cursed as they painfully rolled and tumbled across the forest floor in a chaotic spray of dirt and debris.

When Angelo pushed himself upright, his heart sank at the sight before him. The once-dense forest had been obliterated, leaving a massive circular clearing of scorched earth.

"Shit! Sarge! Check your men!" Angelo yelled at a sergeant as he pushed to the edge of the newly formed clearing, feeling waves of superheated air coming from the ground.

From the cloud, a single, glowing blue eye stared down at the battlefield, emanating an overwhelming sense of divine fury.

And under that giant eye was a figure hovered in the center of the clearing, bathed in a pillar of crackling blue lightning that the eye struck him, and instead of being harmed, it gives him an unbelievable amount of power. His eyes burned with an unnatural blue glow, tinged with a trace of divinity.



“YOU INSIGNIFICANT WORMS!” Dwalin thundered, his voice shaking the ground. “YOU DARE WOUND THE DESCENDANT OF THE GOD OF THUNDE—” His declaration was cut short when several buzzing roars suddenly thundered from above.

The sky erupted with the sound of jet engines, and streaks of yellow-red tracers rained down from the heavens, hammering into him in rapid succession.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Dwalin’s form was engulfed in explosions as his divine wrath was met by a barrage of mana-infused 20mm rounds and missiles from the skies.

————————————————————————

“GUNS, GUNS, GUNS!”

Wegos yelled into his mic as he squeezed the gun trigger, and his whole F-12 Phoenix shuddered wildly from the heavy thumping of its twin 20 mm gun pods as they were spitting mithril-tipped rounds in blazing streaks from its barrels. Streams of mana-infused missiles spiraled away, trailing smoke as they sought their mark.

Twin streaks of tracers roared out and intersected directly at the floating figure silhouetted by a huge ass eye in the sky. Both 20mm mithril-tipped rounds and 100mm missiles caused smoke and sparks on the figure as he broke off his engagement and retreated just as the second Phoenix swooped into position for its firing run.

Meanwhile, the other two Phoenix jets strafed the battlefield below, raking their firepower through the ranks of enemy troops engaged with the other teams. The air was filled with the shriek of missiles and the thunderous roar of autocannons, turning the tide of the skirmish below.

————————————————————————

Angelo yelled out in excitement as he saw the Phoenixes swooped in from above, each jet diving in perfect succession and unleashed a long burst of 20mm fire that streaked through the air before breaking off to make way for the next in line. A barrage of mana-infused missiles followed, slamming into the Dwarf Prince and sending him spiraling uncontrollably through the sky.

"KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH!"

————————————————————————

Wegos pulled his fighter into a wide loop, his sharp eyes tracking the coordinated assault of his wing. One by one, the Phoenixes dove in to engage the Dwarf Prince. But as the last jet banked away from its strike, the air seemed to crackle with energy.

The Dwarf Prince’s form flared with a blinding pulse, and an intense beam of eye-searing light erupted from him. It lanced through the final Phoenix in the formation and sliced the aircraft cleanly in two. Flames and debris spewed from the shattered fuselage as the jet spiraled out of control and fell toward the ground.

“Mayday, mayday!” Wegos called into his comms. “We’ve got a Phoenix down, repeat, Phoenix down!”

————————————————————————

The radio squawked with yells of "Phoenix down! Gold Five is down!"

The sergeant that was locked in combat with enemy troops cursed under his breath as he instinctively stretched his head up, trying to catch a glimpse of the aerial battle in the skies, but the small opening in the canopy barely allowed him to see anything. Meanwhile, the firefight on the ground raged on with bullets and magic tearing through the undergrowth.

“Damn it! They’re getting hammered up there!” a soldier muttered as he glanced up from the radio set with a grim expression. “What do we do now?”

The sergeant hesitated, tightening his jaw as he reloaded his weapon.

Finally, he whispered, “Pray. Pray to God they make it through this…”

————————————————————————

"Light him up!" Angelo yelled as he crouched behind a blackened piece of wood log for cover.

He had commanded Team 1 to engage the enemy infantry, while Team 2 concentrated their firepower on the dwarf prince, who floated above the battlefield, radiating a divine, almost blinding light.

The long RAATATATATATATATA burst of machine-gun fire roared out from the sides and the gunners braced their AFMG-1s against fallen trees and fired in long controlled bursts. Bright tracer rounds arced toward the prince, who raised a glowing hand. In an instant, a crackling lightning shield materialized and absorbed the bullets. Sparks danced and fizzled on its surface as molten mithril dripped down like liquid fire.

A loud WHOOOOSH screamed out from somewhere and the rocket of the Arcane Storm Launcher slammed into the back of the dwarf prince with devastating force.

The thin wafers of fire runes at the nose of the rocket propelled grenade collapsed and sent a flaming spark into the explosive filler and ignited, throwing out a small cloud of hydrogen, fine aluminum and mana powder mixing into the air.

In a split second, the second stage fuse ignited, the fuel air mix detonated, raising the immediate temperature to over 1.400 Degree Celsius, flash cooking the air. The sudden detonation caused a small vacuum in the atmosphere, and air rushed in to fill the void, causing a thunder crack and blast wave which radiated out in a small sphere.

The Demigod screamed as the blastwave hammered him, arched his back up, blood gushed out from his nose and ears, the bright red a startling contrast against his blue glow over his body.

"I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOU ALL!"

His thunderous roar slammed into his surroundings, even over hundreds of meters away. The force of his shout struck like a physical blow, and the men on the ground screamed and yelled as the shock wave from his roar hammered into them, making their internal organs wobble violently.

Angelo barely managed to defend against most of the magical shockwave made by the dwarf prince due to the magic defenses on his Mithril armor, but he saw a couple of soldiers around him rolling and moaning on the ash coated floor as they suffered some inner injuries.

"How do we fucking kill that thing!" he shouted as he yanked a healing potion from his belt and poured it into the mouth of a wounded soldier. "Nathan! Wake the fuck up and grab that ASL-1!"

He yelled at Nathan who sat on the floor with a silly look on his face. "Wake the fuck up!"

Nathan, dazed and bloodied, coughed up some specks of blood and climbed to his feet unsteadily. His shaking hands fumbled as he searched the fallen body of a soldier, finding the ASL-1 rocket launcher strapped to the corpse’s back.

Giving the lifeless body of the soldier a pat on his part, he unstrapped the weapon, flipped open the sights, and inserted the fire rune at the rear of the launcher.

Steadying himself as best as he could, Nathan raised the magic bazooka and aimed it unsteadily at the rampaging dwarf prince who was throwing bolts of lightning left and right that crackled and exploded in blinding flashes. Gritting his teeth, Nathan aimed and squeezed the trigger, igniting the simple rocket motors, flinging the rocket out on its way to meet the dwarf.

Nathan grinned weakly as he watched a small black explosive cloud blanketed the Dwarf before his strength failed him, and dropped the spent rocket tube down as it slipped from his hands.

He collapsed to the ground, slipping into unconsciousness as the battlefield raged on around him.

————————————————————————

Flight Sergeant Wegos twisted his fighter into a low swooping loop, low-altitude loop, easing back on the throttle to reduce speed. His eyes locked on the targeting reticle as he aligned his gun sights for a strafing pass.

"GUNS! GUNS! GUNS!" He roared and his whole jet shuddered violently as the dual 20mm autocannon gun pods mounted under each wing blasted away, firing a hail of spent armor-piercing cartridges almost twice the length of his forefinger and got recycled into an ammunition hopper.

The fiery tracers chased the dwarf below, who raised an electrical shield to block. Sparks erupted as the bullets impacted the crackling barrier, scattering harmlessly into the air

Wegos gritted his teeth and wrenched the stick upward, banking sharply to the side as he shoved the throttle forward. His fighter roared out of the attack run and climbed away from the fray. He cast a quick glance at his rearview mirror, feeling his heart pounding as he caught sight of the enraged demigod, glowing brighter by the second.

“Oh, shit!”

Wegos yanked the stick hard to the left, throwing the nimble jet into a spiraling barrel roll just as the dwarf prince unleashed a massive bolt of lightning. The blinding arc of energy sizzled past, missing the fighter by a hair’s breadth. G-forces slammed into him, and he clenched his teeth and leg muscles to keep blood flowing to his brain.

“That was way too close,” Wegos muttered through ragged breaths, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His jet leveled out, widening the gap between him and the prince. His fingers tightened on the controls as he muttered under his breath, “How tough is this asshole?”

[Gold Two to Gold Lead! Fuel is at 34% and dropping fast!]

Wegos quickly glanced at his own fuel gauge. His stomach sank as the needle hovered just above 36%. He grimaced. They were cutting it too close, if they didn’t break off soon, they wouldn’t have enough to make it back to base.

“Gold Group! All birds, prepare for one final attack run. Regroup at sector four, niner, three, three. Confirm coordinates?” He rattled off the numbers and read out the coordinates from the map strapped to his thigh.

[Roger, Gold Lead!]

[Lining up for the last pass!]

Wegos pivoted his fighter back toward the battlefield, seeing the sunlight reflecting off his other two wingmates’ jets as they dived down in formation with their cannons blazing, unleashing one last barrage of firepower at the indomitable dwarf prince below.

————————————————————————

Angelo cursed under his breath as the radioman relayed the update. "Damn it! The flyboys are running on fumes. One last attack run, and then they’re heading back to base."

He glanced toward the medics frantically working on the wounded, all huddled behind the sparse cover of the sloping terrain with blood and ash painted on the ground.

“Sarge, what’s our status? How many are still combat capable?” he asked in desperation.

The platoon sergeant wiped a streak of blood from his nose and spat out a gobble of blood onto the ground before replying. “Three, sir. That’s it, not counting you, me, and the two medics. But even those three are pretty bad.”

“Shit!” Angelo muttered, feeling his chest tightened. His first command, and here he was, staring down the barrel of annihilation with half his platoon incapacitated. “Stay and fight? Or try to run?”

“Sorry, sir,” the sergeant said, shaking his head grimly. “Most of the wounded aren’t going anywhere. And even if they could, we’d never outrun that bastard.” He jerked his head toward the battlefield, where the dwarf prince was, his divine fury cutting down the remnants of their forces.

“Radioman!” Angelo called out and snatched the ‘C’-shaped receiver from the soldier’s trembling hands. “Eagle One to Thunderchief, come in. Over!”

With the destruction of the forest, several openings in the canopy had opened up, thus allowing some radio signals to get out and not long, HQ replied. [-derchief, send.]

“Eagle One here! Taking heavy casualties! Request immediate support! Over!”

[-und- chie- st- -by.]

The static-laden response fizzled out, leaving Angelo holding the useless receiver.

“Shit!”

With a growl, he tossed it back to the radioman and turned to look at the carnage.

The maddened demigod rampaged just beyond their cover, his glowing form an unstoppable force of destruction.

“What does it take to kill that son of a bitch?!”

————————————————————————

Aboard an Aircraft Carrier near the Austronesian Empire’s borders, the captain stood on the bridge turned darker and darker as he watched and listened to every report coming in from the battle. He looked up at the live streaming UAV video on the monitor, seeing the eye-catching Eye in the sky, brightly glaring at everyone beneath it and cast an oppressive light over the chaos below with a blinding glare.

"Captain! The troops are requesting immediate support!" the communication officer called out urgently from his station. "They're reporting heavy casualties. Orders?"

The captain’s jaw tightened. "Tell them to fall back if they can," he replied calmly but firmly. He turned toward the tactical plot table. "What's the ETA on the Phoenixes?"

"About 30 minutes out, sir, escorting the 2nd Battalion," another officer reported. "Gold Group is disengaging from the dwarf prince and returning to base."

“Thirty minutes…” The captain’s brow furrowed in frustration. “That’s too damn long.” After a brief pause, his eyes narrowed toward one ship beside the carrier. “Tell the ALN Arjuna to prepare to deploy Project Mjolnir.”

The room went still for a moment until one officer turned toward him with disbelief on his face. “Sir, Project Mjolnir is an advanced prototype, our most valuable technological weapon. Shouldn’t we consider launching a cruise missile instead?”

The captain’s gaze snapped to the officer. “You’ve seen what 20mm autocannons and RPGs do to… that thing, absolutely nothing.” His tone was sharp, cutting through the hesitation. “Now status?”

The officer hesitated, then pulled up the latest records. “Engineering and Armament cleared it for active duty as of the last maintenance check. It’s operational, but deployment is… not advisable.”

The captain’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Tell the captain in the ALN Arjuna to bring it online,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

————————————————————————

On the bridge of the Austronesian Empire's battleship, ALN “Arjuna”, the captain stood at the center of the bridge with his hands clasped behind his back.

Recently, he got a call from the Aircraft carrier captain and nodded.

“Status report, Lieutenant. Are the launch systems online?”

At the tactical console, an officer named Lieutenant Kora nodded as her fingers moved deftly across the touchpads. “Yes, sir. The Typhoon-Class Hypersonic Missile, Project Mjolnir, is prepped and armed. Targeting coordinates are locked on the target.”

Nearby, Weapons Officer Davrin double-checked the final readouts and said. “Launch authorization received from High Command. The payload is live, and all systems are green.”

The captain nodded firmly. “Good. This strike will blow that bastard off once and for all.”

Before anyone could respond, Radar Specialist Ivena interrupted the tension. “Sir, we’ve got friendlies within the blast radius. Are we really going to fire with them in range?”

The captain’s gaze sharpened, but his tone remained measured. “The MK-I armor will hold. They’re built for this. Lieutenant Kora, adjust targeting to account for predicted vectors. I want precision. Give me a launch window.”

Kora’s brow furrowed in concentration as she recalculated rapidly. “Done. New trajectory uploaded. Launch window in thirty seconds.”

A low hum builds throughout the ship as the missile launch tube pressurizes, its mechanical components intertwining to handle the immense power of the weapon’s deployment.

"All hands, brace for launch,” the captain commanded to the crew, “This isn't just any missile, it's a hypersonic spear like the Apollo's Arrow."

"Ten seconds. Nine... eight... seven..."

The bright fell silent, feeling the tension thick enough to cut through with a knife. Outside, the waves crashed harder against the battleship “Arjuna”, and the faint glow of the missile tube illuminated the deck in an eerie, otherworldly light, like the birth of a second sun.

"...Three... two... one. Launch!"

The hypersonic missile roars to life with a thunderous blast, leaving the launch tube in a fiery streak of light. The shockwave shakes the entire battleship, causing the crew to momentarily grab onto consoles and rails for support.

“Missile away!” the Weapons Officer reported with a wide grin. “Flight trajectory nominal. Mach 15 and climbing.”

The captain’s eyes remained fixed on the digital display, where a crimson arc traced the missile’s path toward its target.

“Impact in sixty seconds,” he said coldly. “Keep me updated.”

————————————————————————

Angelo screamed at the men to take cover, "Danger close! DANGER CLOSE!"

"Get to cover!" His men yelled at each other, shouting to those still locked in a losing battle with the dwarf prince.

Dwalin hovered in place, smiling at the panicking and dying soldiers. His body was constantly recovering from the effects of the [Eye of Thunder]. He forcefully held onto his link to the divine powers in the ancient bloodline he possessed, protecting the link from the humans' pitiful weapons.

He gloated at the creatures stumbling away from him in urgency, feeling the terror in their eyes and feeding on their fear of him, and he drank it greedily, letting the heady rush wash over him.

‘Is this what it feels like to be a god?’ The thought burned brightly in his mind. He could feel the raw ecstasy coursing through his veins, an intoxicating blend of adrenaline and power. Dominance over man and beast had never felt so sweet.

"HHAhaHAHAHAHaahahaahAHAHAHAHhahahaa...!" Dwalin laughed joyfully, "FEAR ME! BOW BEFORE ME! WORSHIP ME! FOR I AM A GOD!!”

As his laughter faded into a low rumble, he raised his arms and summoned the full extent of his destructive power. The air vibrated as he began to unleash [Electro World], the potent spell now amplified tenfold by the [Eye of Thunder].

Its range would expand from 100 meters to a devastating kilometer, its power enough to obliterate anything, even low-level 2nd Tier Transcendents.

“[Electro Wor—]”

BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!

Just as he was about to unleash that skill, the sky above tore open and the clouds ripped apart in an instant as something pierced the heavens like a burning comet of unstoppable force.

The object descended with a shriek that defied comprehension, trailing fire and light as it zeroed in on the unsuspecting demigod.

A thunderclap unlike any other erupted as the projectile struck, a deafening roar magnitudes louder than a rifle’s crack. The impact was catastrophic, slamming directly into Dwalin before he could finish his spell.

The shockwave tore through the battlefield like a hurricane. Soldiers braced under magical and physical cover, screaming as the sheer force overloaded their bodies, battering and tossing them like leaves in a storm, and their cries were drowned out by the cacophony of destruction.

Weakened trees splintered and were uprooted, crashing to the ground as the earth itself trembled under the projectile.

Traveling at Mach 29, it left a trail of devastation in its wake, superheating the air and vibrating with residual energy.

————————————————————————

Gold Leader, Sergeant Wegos, gritted his teeth as his fighter jolted violently when the sudden turbulence buffeted him like a leaf in a storm. Around him, the other jets in his squadron twisted and dived, struggling to maintain control in the chaos.

“Damn it!” Wegos growled, feeling his heart sinking as he caught sight of a wingman’s jet spiraling out of control. The doomed aircraft clipped the treetops and flipped over end before vanishing into the dense canopy in an explosion of splintered wood and smoke.

“Phoenix down!” Wegos barked into the comms. “We’ve lost another one!”

———————————————————————

"STATUS?" The captain of the Aircraft carrier roared out, as the UAV feed suddenly flickered and was replaced by a glaring error message popped up. "Get that back online!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" The frantic crew quickly jumped into action, trying ways to bring back the lost connection of the UAV.

“Sir, no response from the teams on the ground!” the communications officer shouted.

“Gold Squadron reports they’ve lost two Phoenixes! One fighter went down due to the target while the other was due to the shockwave!” she added moments later as reports flooded in from various departments. “They’re requesting a SAR (Search and Rescue) team!”

“Damn it,” the captain muttered under his breath, clenching his fist behind his back.

“Sir! UAV is back online!” the operator suddenly called out from his station with a note of relief in his voice. “Bringing it up on the main screen now!”

The massive display flickered to life, revealing a slow pan of the battlefield. The camera traced a devastating trail carved through the forest canopy, a line of shattered trees and splintered wood where the hypersonic missile had roared through moments earlier.

The view shifted to a massive clearing, now shrouded in a drifting dust cloud that partially obscured the base of a mountainside. Switching to infrared, the screen revealed a glowing heat signature at the epicenter of the destruction, a single, bright mass beneath the swirling debris.

“Think we got him?” a crew member whispered, breaking the uneasy silence.

The captain ignored the question as his eyes locked on the screen. “What’s the radiation sensor reading?”

The UAV operator quickly checked the data. “Minimal background radiation detected, sir. Magicule levels have dropped drastically, from over 100,000 to less than 2000. If he was a Tier 2 Transcendent before, he’s not anymore.”

The captain sighed sharply. “Deploy multiple platoons to aid the survivors. I want boots on the ground immediately.”

“Yes, sir!” the communications officer acknowledged and quickly relayed the orders. “ETA for reinforcements is thirty-one minutes!”

The captain nodded grimly, his gaze still fixed on the screen. “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

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The sharp angular silhouettes of the V-45 Peacemakers roared into the clearing and banked sharply as their tilt rotors swiveled forward to slow the heavy crafts. The powerful downdraft from the dual rotors scattered the green smoke and whipped up clouds of ash from the scorched forest below. With a mechanical whir, the undercarriage bays swung open and deployed four sturdy landing gears.

As the Peacemakers even touched down, their rear ramps dropped open and disgorged squads of soldiers in MK-I Mithril Armor and armed with AF-1 Magic Rifles.

Moving with practiced precision, they charged down the ramps and formed up a short distance away. Standing apart were two figures, one was a baton-wielding officer wearing a beret, the other was a wounded man dressed in leather armor and a tactical vest.

"Sir! Sergeant Arven of 2nd Battalion, Eagle Company, Platoon 2, reporting with two sections at your command, sir!" A slightly pale soldier with three stripes on his sleeve yelled over the slowing power down of the rotors' winding engines.

"Lieutenant Angelo," came the reply as Angelo stepped forward. He gestured to the man beside him. "And this is Specialist Sergeant Nathan." Angelo’s brow furrowed as he caught a faint sour odor drifting on the wind. "Are you all right, son?"

"Yes, sir!" Arven replied, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Just... air turbulence," he muttered, looking embarrassed.

“Ahh,” Angelo chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Rough down here too, Sergeant. First time stepping onto another world? Don’t worry, we’ve already cleared out the dangerous Magic Beasts in this area."

“Yes, sir!” Arven grinned back, visibly relaxing. “We’ve got medics and medical supplies onboard, ready to assist.”

“Good. We’ll need every medic you’ve got.” Angelo’s expression turned grim. "There are a lot of wounded. Follow me."

"Medics, on me!" Arven turned and yelled at his men, snapping them out of their dazed gawking. "The rest of you, unload the supplies!"

Angelo led the group into a small defile where rows of injured soldiers lay, darkened with dried blood in their uniforms. Many groaned softly in their l battered and broken bodies.

"Team 2 took the brunt of the fight,” Angelo explained. “Most of them have internal injuries and broken bones. We need to medivac the critical cases immediately."

His voice faltered for a moment. “We also lost four men. One of them was a pilot whose jet was torn apart by that damned dwarf.”

“What about the other teams?” Arven asked, watching his medics rush to aid the wounded.

“They held the line against the enemy troops,” Angelo replied. “Several casualties, but thankfully no deaths. Most injuries were burst eardrums or broken bones from the blast wave. They fought well.”

“And the enemy troops?”

“Completely wiped out. Team 1 fought like demons. The Men of Stone alone annihilated an entire army, and even managed to wound the dragon that caused so many casualties among the rescue team.”

Arven nodded, impressed. "And the dwarf prince? Is he dead?"

Angelo glanced toward the settling dust cloud in the distance. "I hope so. But if he survived that..."

Nathan snorted and shook his head. “If that bastard’s still breathing, he’s tougher than any goddamn cockroach I’ve ever seen. We threw everything at him, and he just wouldn’t go down.”

The three soldiers fell silent and looked at the dust cloud that still lingered ominously over the battlefield. The distant cawing of vultures, circling over the dwarf’s last known position, seemed to mock their uncertainty.

Angelo’s thoughts darkened. He did not know much of a pain it might have been if they engaged the dwarf with only conventional weapons.

Even if their advanced magical guns hadn’t been enough, what chance would they have had without the hypersonic strike?

The encounter had taught him one harrowing truth…

Transcendents were not just powerful, they were catastrophic threats to humanity.

Shaking off the grim thought, Angelo looked upward and his expression softened as his gaze caught the sight of twin moons glowing in the night sky. One cast a crimson hue, the other a serene blue, bathing the world in an otherworldly light.

"It never ceases to amaze me," Angelo murmured in awe. "Two full moons, every night.”

“It’s strange,” Nathan added as he stepped up beside him. “No matter the day or position of the planet, the moons are always full. This world doesn’t follow any rules of astronomy we know.”

"Yeah..."

Then, the three soldiers turned and watched the dust cloud hovering over the distance, each in their minds wondering how many more powerful beings like the dwarf prince were out there in the world? Creatures capable of wiping out entire armies, or worse, surviving the wrath of weapons designed to level cities like nuclear weapons?

One example is the Demon Lord, and he is far worse.

For now, they could only imagine. But in the back of Angelo’s mind, one thought lingered…

‘We need to be ready.’

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A/n: And that's it for the Deep Rock Stranded arc. Thanks for reading!

And also, what are your thoughts on this story arc? Let me hear your thoughts!