A Men of Stone was seen moving through the streets of the destroyed city. The flames covered all while the bodies of elven guards were scattered around. Only six hours after the invasion of Aqurius had begun and only one hour ago one of the most important cities of the Third Civilization had fallen under the force of the Austronesian. With this, it was the 30th city that fell under the dominion of mankind.

One of those human warriors looked around, searching for some survivor. His lethal magic rifle was aimed at the rubble of a building destroyed long ago.

Belina could barely avoid shivering when she felt the soldier's approach the place where she was hidden. Her staff was broken, she was holding what was left of it. Being an arcanist she could still use magic without needing it. But, nevertheless, she clung to the remains of the charred wood, which had been a gift from her comrades. Now dead trying to buy her time, thinking that she, being able to use fourth level magic, could do something to defeat the enemy.

That's right, her comrades from her team of adventurers, killed by the very same weapons that these humans carried.

Her breath only calmed when the human soldier retired in search of some other place to find enemy forces. The footsteps were lost in the streets, but she did not dare leave her hiding place until that beast that spits fire went away.

Once she made sure no one was left, she left. Her body bemoaned the wounds that splinters of bone and metal fire had caused.

She remembered how Meller, their leader, had been killed by a sword that had tiny bladed teeths that could split entire bodies with ease. His body was split in two by the destructive weapon. Another of her companions was burned alive by one of the flamethrowers. She dried her tears at the thought of them, there was no time to lament for now, she must find a way to escape from here.

Worse of all, she saw how these humans captured some of her surviving members. She had seen how several were burned alive or being shot. She turned to see the entire streets, feeling her heart shrink and lament when she saw hundreds of bodies lying lifelessly on the floor. It was an apocalyptic and terrible sight, she felt nauseous, only trembling every time remembered the carnage.

Not in Aquarius, but in another city nearby where she escaped from the same people, and communication of her close friends in there.

They said that the kingdom responded to the invasion by deploying all the armies in key cities and preparing their special units to carry out direct attacks against the enemy using the flank once they were too busy trying to take the cities.

But they never understood that this strategy was useless from the beginning.

It was like fighting a hurricane, there was no way to stop one, the only option was to hide and wait until the storm passed.

The kingdom was against the armies who approached the nearest city to the border and which had been reinforced with half a thousand elven soldiers.

But neither had been enough.

Under the artillery fire those defenders had been pulverized immediately. The missiles were erasing them from the battlefield, in formations so compact that they were basically delivered on a silver platter to the enemy's artillery. By the time reinforcements had arrived, the flag of the Austronesian Empire was on the city.

This was how city after city fell into the hands of the Austronesian empire. It was in the fourth city where three of their best magic user units had met to try to stop the inexorable invaders, only to be exterminated by strange humans with metal skin.

She had seen first-hand the power of only one of those warriors. Several times they had tried to damage their armor, but it did not suffer any damage, just a few scratches and minor blows. Her hands, able to bend steel with ease and speed that went beyond even a Level 10.

Surprisingly, they would try to avoid hurting civilians. But in return, the lives of soldiers and magic casters would be taken. However, more than once she had seen the humans in black clothing kill civilians who did not abandon their faith in their gods.

She stopped in a semi collapsed house. The wounds still hurt, the last Potion she had used to heal herself. But, however, the damage was more than a simple low-level potion could do.

She thought about resting for a while. The dream tempted her and tiredness hit her still more. She had spent so much mana that she did not know if she could use even a single first tier spell.

She wondered what she would do now. This place would most likely be owned by the humans within a few hours... she knew what would happen to her... she had to escape, as far as possible from them. In her mind she thought that if she were beyond the continent and headed to the Second Civilization Zone then maybe, just maybe, would be safe.

It was then that she heard a sound, a very familiar one. Gunshots rang out in the distance, she saw through the window, there was no one. The shots continued to resonate, from time to time, they came closer and closer. They were there, they came and she knew it.

She ran as hard as he could. She had to leave this city by boat or teleportation spell. To the north, she had to go north. Belina heard footsteps, heavy. She trembled, anxious, and did not know what was chasing her right now. Her heart was hammering at her from fatigue or fear. Because she knew that whatever it was that was chasing her, she would have no chance against that,

She tries to escape through the alleys. These were narrow, but if some huge monster was following her, she could not pass by so easily. She did not know how long she ran, when she stopped she was on the outside wall, she just had to walk through the door and go to the valley where she would be safe. Even if there were monsters she trusted that she could deal with them.

Only a few steps, it was close. Just a few steps and she could be safe.

But fate was cruel.

It ripped from the walls. Breaking the rock walls like paper. A beast of metal and stone. Frantic, crazy. That was the voice that came from a powerful golem fused to a machine.

"Enemy detected." The Men of Stone muttered coldly.

Like a hungry and maddened beast, the Men of Stone rushed forward, making any obstacle to the side. The narrow walls were demolished by its magic-enhnaced stone and orichulcum steel plating armor.

Belina screamed, her body almost paralyzed as she desperately raised her hands to cast [Lightning], one, two, three times. She was terrified, her body trembled so much that her precision was erratic. [fireball] she summoned, but the fire crashed into its metal arms without any damage.

Seeing that it was useless, she turned around and ran, the thing following close behind, its huge steps giving speed to her form. Belina ran with everything she had, she no longer cared about keeping magic, she had to escape, to escape from this thing that was looking for her.

One of its hands extended, trapping her by the waist. She tried to break free, hitting, biting, even scratching. Three of her nails came off in her desperation to escape.

Suddenly she heard a visceral, brutal sound. When she turned around she froze, paralyzed at the sight of the huge saw going for her. It came closer and closer, she lost control of her bladder, her clothes wet and ruined. But she kept kicking and struggling,

"Please ..." she said, her prayers ignored by the golem-machine hybrid.

The teeth of the saw touched the soft flesh, Belina screamed, her screams tore at her throat and at the same time it filled with blood once the blade began to reach her internal organs. Then she reached her spine, that's where only babble was reached, their screams continued to echo in an empty street where no one would help. And even if there was someone, what could they do against this monster?

Her body split in two was thrown on the sidewalk. Her torso was still spasming. She was conscious, leaving pain and shock, unable to cry.

She looked at her severed legs on the other side of the sidewalk.

The fire enveloped her, the burning flame of the heavy flamethrower of the machine. In seconds her body calcined into a charred shell. A heavy leg crushed what was left of the body scattering the ashes through the air.

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

"Die, alien scum!" Trese shouted as she lowered a giant sword, which is literally the same size as a helicopter rotor blade, with strength by splitting the alien witch in half who had tried to use magic against her.

The heavy gunfire spread along the streets while the cries and howls of the defenders mingled with the cries of faith and devotion of the Templar Knights of the 19th Black Armored Division.

Suddenly, some enemy's sorcerers had been using white creatures that were blasphemed as angels. Beings of silver armor and wings of fire with swords of light.

Vile lie and heresy, there was no way God could allow such beings to exist. Just cheap copies from this fantasy world.

Trese charged directly to a soldier in heavy armor who wore a morning star with a shield. The knight turned the morning star in a wide arc, pointed at the head of the Division, discovered. Even if her Hercules-class exosuit armor protected her from everything thrown at her thanks to it being made out of adamantite, she could not protect her from higher level magic spells.

But Trese raised a giant pistol and with a mass-reactive projectile sprayed the ball full of spikes that had banally tried to threaten her life. She moved the blade of her sword in a wide arc, the disruption field shattering the molecular bonds of the material from which the armor was made and the knight himself. As if cut through warm grease with a red-hot knife. She closed the alien by setting aside his split body.

More knights went for her, armed with long spears. She did not worry about facing them seriously. Before their army would advance into the battlefield, Major General Francisco had ordered them to defeat the enemy not only physically, they had to show them that all their efforts were useless. Three blades of each lance went to her belly connecting with the adamantite that covered it.

And the three of them broke like dry sticks.

Perplexed, the city guards of Aquarius released their weapons and ran. They tried to get away from the armored woman as far as they could. But they did not advance more than a few meters, for the tongues of fire from a flamethrower enveloped them. They cooked inside their armor, it even melted the metal in the immense heat of the imperial flamer.

An MTF-16 Mobile Tank Fortress pointed its barrel towards the end of the street and fired a massive load. Dozens of elven guards died when, not only them, but also the surrounding buildings had fallen completely.

40,000 troops of the 19th Black Armored Division had been deployed and were moving with unreal speed in search of destroying the enemy that had hidden within the buildings.

Actually, the 19th Black Armored Division was no longer just a division. Its recruitment numbers had risen far beyond what they were in January, expanding at an unprecedented rate.

This explosive growth was largely due to the government's Propaganda Campaign, which exposed the "Crimes Against Humanity" to the public. While the campaign successfully drove military enlistment to staggering levels, it also fueled a wave of hatred and xenophobia across the nation.

As a result, many were successfully recruited in the 19th Black Armored Division. At first, many recruits were turned away, especially non-Filipinos and white people. However, military leaders in that military faction soon noticed the number of applicants from these very groups kept rising, along with their increasingly fervent hatred and bigoted behaviors for the same enemy.

Amused by this unexpected turn of events, the leaders of the 19th reconsidered their stance. If these recruits shared the same hostility, why turn them away?

With this shift, the 19th Black Armored Division grew so large in both influence and manpower that it was officially restructured into an entirely new military corps.

But the changes didn't stop there. The division's racial diversity led to an ideological transformation within the faction, one that spread rapidly and ignited a controversial new movement.

The Rise of Human Supremacy.

What shocked many within the Empire wasn't just the ideology's sudden popularity, but its reach. It wasn't confined to far-right groups, even left-wing individuals who had once despised racism and xenophobia began embracing human supremacy.

No matter their race, gender, ethnicity, or culture, millions of humans across the nation were beginning to adopt this ideology, stirring deep concern among many, including the Austronesian Government.

Moreover, there are many jokes about this on Social Media as they quickly latched onto the phenomenon, especially with the now-infamous quote spreading in popularity like wildfire:

"Divided by nation and culture, united by racism and xenophobia."

Despite this ideological shift, the 19th Black Armored Division remained selective in its recruitment. Only Christians and Catholics were permitted to join, excluding those of other faiths.

Still, the division's numbers continued to grow at an alarming pace, so much so that even the Austronesian Government, which had once encouraged its expansion, began to worry. In response, they took steps to limit its recruitment, though whether this would be enough to curb its influence remained uncertain.

Panning back to the 19th Black Armored Division, or renamed as the "Black Armored Legion", they suddenly were received by hundreds of arrows that flew over them, but only a banal hope was once bounced off their armor. The archers were cut as the sickle harvests the wheat thanks to the gunfire and flamethrower.

Suddenly, figures emerged from the smoke formed by fire and death. They were golems made of rock. Twelve of them in formation with a golem made of steel. Each of them is armed with a hammer and a shield.

Behind them there were two figures walking, this was a girl with brown hair and strange clothes and a somewhat shorter boy with his blonde hair and a small hat. The girl was carrying a scholar suitcase, it seemed to writhe, as if something was contained inside. The boy was wearing a rapier, he was monochromatic in a spiral design as his only weapon.

"Wow ..." the boy spoke. "They dare to attack our city so indiscriminately. Only death will make them get my forgiveness." He said with bravado.

"I will not forgive them for what they did to this beautiful place." the girl said with clear anger on her face that there was just a pathetic grimace on her face.

"Adventurers..." Trese hissed as she recognized the metal badges on their chest. "Go back to your mommy from a men's battlefield, youngsters," she added as she judged the pair, only for them to be protected by the thirteen golems that advanced. She raised her pistol and fired a reactive round of .75 impact at supersonic speed against the chest of one of the golems. However, this did not knock it down, but destroyed a good piece of the rock that formed its torso. The other golems raised their shields automatically upon seeing they were being attacked.

"It's useless." The young boy spoke. "These golems were made by the best alchemists. You will not be able to destroy them so easily even with those weapons you possess."

Then another front opened as magic beasts appeared from the smoke. Giant wolves, man-eating lizards and two-headed reptiles moving from one side to the other. But there were three beasts that rose above all the others, three giant Basilisks moved their necks from one side to another, where their saliva fell and the corrosive material melted whatever it touched.

And behind all these beasts was a man, with red hair and dressed like a nobleman.

"It is not time for introductions, Tempestuousness Space, we must finish with these invaders before they take the city. We will not allow your boots to stain the sacred ground of this place ever again."

As a shadow appeared from the corner of Trese's eye, she stepped aside before something fell on her, when she turned to see what had fallen she found a man, made of pure muscle, in her hand he was carrying an enormous ax as big as the one with great ease.

If she hadn't worn her Hercules-class Exosuit, she knew that this brute would have killed her successfully with an attack like that.

The man turned the huge ax towards her, moving slowly, for her eyes, trained since she was a child, she could discern he was not a serious threat. However, she knew that if that ax could hit her it would be a problem.

Trese moved her motor blade-like sword and a gash split the heavy ax blade, even so, the metal hit her with a roar and the man threw her several meters impacting with a building.

"Ara, I think you hit her too hard, I doubt she'll get up from that. Even though your axe split a bit." said Tempestuousness Space, who was approaching moving away from the wall of golems.

"Even so, we should make sure." said a man with many tattoos all over his face, who had approached from the flank avoiding everyone's eyes.

"Well, it would not be fun if she dies so easily. If the others are as tough as this, it will not be difficult for us." The girl with a scholar suitcase claimed with pride again.

"No..." This time the barbarian-like warrior spoke. "It was not enough," he said as he clung to his ax.

"But what do you mean? It was a blow with all your strength, she should be dead now..."

He did not finish speaking when something went flying, an enormous piece of rock impacted against the tattoo man and threw him to the ground, unconscious.

They all turned to the one who threw the rock to see Trese got up, her armor covered in dust, she had pieces of concrete in her hair. But she was unharmed.

She pointed at them with her sword. Her gaze filled with anger, her eyes like the fire of fury. Something in her had changed, something was different, her blood-colored armor was now becoming more crimson.

"BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF THE TEMPLAR KNIGHTS!" She shouted. "CARRY GOD'S DIVINE WRATH ON THESE ALIENS! LET THE HOLY FLAMES BURN HIS JUSTICE ON TO THE DAMNED! NO PITY, NO MERCY, NO PRISONERS!"

"What's that about?" The female alchemist said mockingly.

The young boy named Tempestuousness Space shrugged, "One last attempt of courage?"

It was then that a deafening sound was heard. When he turned he was able to see an enormous sword with whirling teeths into a hellish sound descended on him. He tried to block with his rapier, the teeth of the giant terrifying looking chainsword scratched the monochromatic metal but it did not split it. However, the force behind the impact was too much to block and so Tempestuousness Space was thrown to the ground, narrowly avoiding the huge sword that had tried to kill him.

When he looked up, he could see that armored human woman was already upon them.

With ease she carried that enormous sword bigger than a human's body. Its appearance is more like an obscenely oversized chainsword, that is so abnormally large that it can only ever be wielded in combat effectively with both hands, and it seemed it could even break walls or split a car in two.

This is Trese's new sword she built, a weapon she named the Eviscerator.

Her eyes were full of anger and roared like an uncontrollable animal. She lifted her huge sword again, however, this time it went for someone else, his companion, the Barbarian-like warrior.

He reacted accordingly, years of combat toned by past dangers. He moved his ax from side to side, using every martial technique, magic skills, and pushing aside each attack from the Eviscerator approached him as the female General of the Black Armored Legion struck again and again, meeting the heavy ax of her enemy which had been holding until now.

However, the ax began to break. Enormous teeth of adamantite and impossible edges sliced the metal and created cracks with each blow, it was a matter of time for the user to fall.

Tempestuous Space joined the battle as an arrow ran in one thrust towards Trese. Immediately, he thrust his rapier into his enemy who had been too entertained against his companion.

However, his dagger shattered upon impact, and the woman attacked him. The pain ignored by her fanaticism and the injuries forgotten by her anger. She held the rapier with her hand while raising the other to drop the eviscerator on the young boy.

Him, at seeing what was going for him, took his hand to his back, releasing a dagger he raised it as quickly as he could and aimed at the throat of the armored woman, but Trese unintentionally moved his own rapier in its way, causing his own hand to he stabbed instead.

"AHHHHH!!"

He screamed and released his rapier, leaving behind the blood that had been stained.

"Damn crazy bitch!" he whispered. "What kind of hole have you come from...?"

But he could not say more as he felt a blow to the back that passed through his chest. When he looked, he saw how a huge hole the size of his open hand occupied his chest. Turning, he saw more human warriors in black clothing, all of them pointing at him with their weapons.

How stupid he had been. Get away from the protection of the golems, trying to gain glory.

More shots were heard, pulverizing his body in a shower of death.

Soon, more of his party members were being gunned down by more soldiers in black clothing.

For the barbarian-like warrior, he was now being cornered by an entire platoon who had come together to make him fall.

His ax, full of cracks, now felt so heavy in his hands.

It was then that he felt something on his wrist. When he saw a trickle of blood forming, he felt a sharp pain invade his arm and watched in horror as his hand fell to the ground. Bigger was his horror when a huge Eviscerator went after him, destroying his body and turning him into a tug of flesh and blood.

After killing the brute, Trese was advancing on the spot. With a shot of her giant pistol silenced the alien who was unconscious on the ground.

More and more soldiers of the Black Armored Corps arrived in the streets with her. The city guards of Aquarius feel like simple insects. Destroyed by mass-reactive rounds, incinerated by flamethrowers and reduced to dust by explosions from missiles, rockets, and shells.

A squad of Black Armor soldiers formed, their heavy magic rifles aiming at the golems, ready to unleash hell.

In a row they fired, dropping a storm of gunfire on the golems. These were not able to withstand the damage. The enchanted rock they were made of was bursting into pieces, their shields were vaporized by the intense heat they released. In the end the girl behind them shouted, unable to bear the weight of the damage that was going for her. A mass-reactive round hit her, destroying the top of her body in a thousand pieces.

The Beast Tamer could not believe what he saw. All of his party members were defeated and killed in such a way. He was afraid, of course, but his training had allowed him to control him. He then called the beasts at his command and ordered his Basilisks to attack. Claws and teeth went for the Black armored soldiers, lethal beasts went for what they believed were their prey.

Flamethrowers surrounded them, torrents of intense flames capable of melting the steel itself in seconds. it bathed the creatures together with the wrath of God's wrathful warriors that, with disgust, looked at these unclean beings.

One of the Basilisks had managed to capture one of them. Between its jaws it chewed, but the mithril did nothing, but even so, the joints of the armor were being torn, blood running between its mouth as it tried to sink its fangs deeper and deeper into its prey.

But the soldier did not mourn, his face was hate, his cries were oaths of death. He released one of his grenades and with the force of his mithril armor pierced one of the eyes of the Basilisk. But this didn't let him go. He did not care, because in seconds the grenade exploded inside the brain of the Basilisk, decapitating it and throwing the body of the soldier as well.

He was still alive, but in a deplorable state now. His mithril armor shattered, more by the grenade than by the jaws of the beast. But there was something else, something holding him, when he tried to see he realized that his body was petrifying, the mithril armor turned to stone and his body melting with it. He lamented, not for dying, but for falling before a beast as vile as that one.

Only the shot of his own comrades saved him from such a destination.

Trese sighed. Their first battle against this world is strange, and since she had fought a battle against literal demons, costing her an army which was now replaced by an artificial one given by the nerds of the Science Department, it doesn't change anything.

With an order and pivoting of her sword, the Eviscerator, she called her men to aim the red headed elf. Armed with AF-2 "Magespitter" magic rifles they reduced every beast they saw into extermination. Their tamer exploded in the remains of torn up flesh while trying to escape.

"March for our Lord! March for his glory! Tremble before his majesty! Because we all walk in his immortal shadow!" Trese said at the same time as she commanded her troops toward the buildings. "Burn this heretical garbage! Advance to the enemy capitol without mercy against these alien scums!"

They moved through the streets, leaving the square that divided them from the city. The burning flames were rising, consuming homes and their owners with these. The gun fire tore apart the defenders who tried in vain to face them.

"P-Please! Let us live!"

The sight of their suffering seemed enough to bring a bristling smile to Trese's face. "Foolish alien... If God wanted you to live he would make you in his image!"

Suddenly something attacked from the sky. A being of silver color and armed with magic cannons. The dwarves' Thunder Warriors. Dozens of these descended, seeking to finish off the Templar Knights who fought for their faith.

With a smirk, Trese's back began to ignited with flames and flew towards them in an instant.

BOOOM!!

The sky exploded as her armor collided against the Thunder Warriors.

Controlling her own fall, she burned down towards the ground at speeds which would have pulped the flesh of a normal human, colliding with the metal avenue in a shower of shimmering fragments and fire.

Her armor compensated for the impact with a loud, mechanical hiss, and she stood from her landing crouch almost without pause, seeing that the armor of the dwarves she had landed on had not protected their frail bodies, as her blessed plate had done for her.

Sword held aloft, she cut through smoke to strike the stunned survivors of the squad she had fallen upon, first one, and then the other.

But as soon as she cut down those nearest her, the winds blew away the smoke around her, revealing a grouped mass of forty dwarven mechs. They held magical cannons as they had trained on her from the moment she saw them.

She grit her teeth, her face tightening as her life once more met the razor's edge, pivoting towards the group, and raising her sword.

They fired. Trese knew that she did not have enough power left in her pack to fly away and to safety, but knew also that it was not fully expended, not yet. Even now the power on her power suit's generator was helping to bolster the jump pack which was mounted over it, but even so, it would take her precious seconds to emulate flight once more, seconds she simply did not have.

So instead, she charged, eyes tracking the magic bullets, and noting that they were joined by magic missiles that were set to break her apart like an egg struck with firecrackers. But while her pack lacked the power to carry her far into the air, it did have enough strength stored up to launch her forward and to the left, an action she waited until the very last second to perform, throwing herself just out of the way of the streaking projectiles, which curved in an attempt to follow her, but too late.

The magic missiles collided into the street behind her, and the sudden, overlapping explosions which followed as a result of the raining missiles only seemed to help propel her forward, and closer to the dwarves.

They fired again, and then a third time, each time finding their weapons just barely evaded by the last second rocket sprints of the woman, which carried her into their number like a bullet flying into a body.

The aftermath of the impact was bloody, and lethal, with Trese's voice ringing out in clear song as she slashed away limbs, bisected torsos, and divided faces and halves, turning living resistance into pacified death.

The dwarven formation broke apart around her, and those which did not flee were mercilessly shown the Lord's peace, and soon, all that remained of that skirmish was General Trese, and the pile of bodies she stood on top.

Looking around, she was somewhat relieved to find the battle lines falling back and away from her position, as Liberation forces began to push back the enemy's advance.

Thanks to the sudden aid provided by their reinforcements, and the flanking positions those reinforcements had chosen to take up when entering the battle, the enemy forces of endless elves, dwarves, and orcs had not just been stalled, but nearly decapitated, the spear of their forward assault dissolving into disorganized chaos all around her.

To their credit, the enemy soldiers did not rout, forming into clumps of stubborn resistance which were gradually being surrounded by her advancing troops, who then took them apart until none remained standing.

The Black Armored soldiers had taken a brutal beating in battle against the enemy, and despite their reputation as a more tepid, cautious force of soldiers, they seemed more than eager to repay their losses back to the unyielding magical warriors, showing no quarter, and no lack of haste, as they took back ground while simultaneously taking their lives.

And now they were not alone, joined by the silent, forward march of the Men of Stone, most of whom had massed to the left and right of the opposing forces.

Those few Men of Stone which had arrived in the center of the field took up shock roles, hitting the forward facing enemies hard and without consideration for personal losses.

With their addition to the battle, it seemed the Surprise assault and assaination borne sabotage of the enemy had finally yielded its last advantages, and Imperial grit and faith was now making the difference.

Rumble-!

But just as the battle was about to begin, a sudden trembling within the earth halted the battle. Her men picked up the sudden seismic activity first, but it was not long before she felt it as well.

Evidently the enemy felt whatever this approaching force was as well, as their formation began to dissolve and launched themselves into assaults on the flanking buildings, breaching and escaping into them as they vacated the wide street.

And then, she saw them. At first, Trese had thought she was witnessing the approach of those large dwarven vehicles.

But she mistook and realized her error as it became clearer and clearer that these vessels were speeding with ten gargantuan spinning wheels.

These vehicle machines were massive! So massive that it could crush even the tallest buildings around her.

"Forward forces, incoming enemy super heavy support is inbound on the main approach! Brace for impact!" She yelled through her comms, metal shards crunching and screeching underfoot as she dashed to the smoking wreckage of one of the trundling, walking enemy tanks, taking cover behind it, just as these new, enormous tanks began to open fire.

First came volleys upon volleys of magic missiles, most of which were directed into the battle lines of her fellow men and women.

Thanks to her warning, many had taken cover ahead of the sudden assault, but for too many, the warning had not come soon enough, or the cover they had chosen was simply insufficient.

But the true devastation began when the many, heavy magic turrets which were mounted on these behemoths began to open fire. Additional sprays of death emerged, this time in the form of wide, blue magic bolts which hammered into both Liberation and Black Armored lines, cutting them down with frightening efficiency.

Those few Black Armored soldiers that found themselves in the line of fire for those magic weapons fared little better, for these weapons were clearly of a wholly different caliber than the hand held muskets the dwarves had been using before.

Only exacerbating matters, the huge tanks were speeding at nearly eighty miles an hour, and they did not stop when they collided with the foremost ranks of the human soldiers.

Trese found herself crying out in fear and fury as one of the dwarven assault tanks drove straight over where she huddled, crushing and denting the ruined walker under five successive, metallic wheels, each large enough to smash her flat. She covered her head as the walker corpse above her crinkled and bent, its metal screaming under the strain, but remaining intact enough that she was still whole and not smashed like an insect by the time the speeding, wheeled fortress had passed overhead.

Those tanks took back the Iron Kingdom's ground in brutal fashion, their thick hull plating throwing back very nearly everything the Austronesians threw into them, and shrugging off what weapons fire managed to actually stick.

When they finally stopped advancing, hatches and ramps deployed from each of the three leading vehicles, three hundred fresh Dwarven troops emerging from each, the troopers immediately reengaging the stunned human soldiers with battle cries and weapons fire.

"""ROCK AND STONE!!!"""

And to add dismay to Trese's already growing rage, she felt that rumbling had not stopped, even after they had arrived, and looking back down the avenue, saw three more of such tanks rapidly approaching their already haphazard battle lines.

A chime from her adamantite armor declared her Jump back fully charged, and not a moment too soon.

Win or lose, death or divinity, Trese did not doubt her purpose for a second, even if she did doubt the likelihood of her success.

These were monsters which threatened to turn back the loyal and faithful, and to such monsters, she was doom incarnate! Trese charged down the road, the fresh fight at her back, angling herself towards one of the approaching behemoth tanks.

Magic Missiles were fired, some even at her, and she again waited until the last moment, before activating her jump jets, sailing high into the sky, and arching down towards the command bridge of the tank she had chosen.

Using every last iota of her brain power to calculate her impact point, she threw her still sword through the front of the vehicle, and curled herself into a ball, throwing herself at full speed towards the viewing window of thick, transparent steel which crowned the command center. The impact jarred her, nearly tearing her left arm from her socket, and numbing her right leg as her body burst into the tank in a shower of glass-like substance.

The General did not doubt that, had her sword not weakened the wide transparent viewing port, she would have done little more than collide like an insect against their windshield. Trese tried to rise, but staggered, servos whining and sputtering after all the abuse.

The dwarven command crew of the tank blinked in utter shock at the collapsed human which had shattered her way into their midst, no one doing much of anything as seconds hung suspended in the air like frozen rain.

But that pause ended as one of the commanding dwarven drew his magic musket and began discharging into the Austronesian warrior, his actions prompting the other officers to do the same, drawing magic muskets and firing into her.

The magic bolts pinged and sizzled into her splintered adamantite armor, filling her with the sense of being pelted by heavy, boiling rain which was gradually super heating her shell, even scalding and burning her through the seams.

Discarding her reliance on mechanical muscles, she hauled herself up with a strained growl of effort, throwing herself against the nearest dwarf, sword impaling the man's chest with barely a strain, his eyes wide, mouth agape and spewing blood as she pulled her blade out of him through the side of his punctured chest.

But she was no longer looking at him, finding her next target and lurching in his direction, screaming in pain as the heat within her suit began to grow near intolerable.

The next man she beheaded, kicking the head into the face of another dwarf, as she went for a third kill, cutting the arms off the next assailant, jump jets burning to fill the space with smoke as she tried to provide some sort of concealment for herself.

Without helmets or armor of their own, the dwarven officers were blind, and easy prey to her auspecs, which guided her through the smoke and to each of them in turn, even as they continued to shoot after her, following the glow of her blade to try to keep their bead.

But their uniforms and side arms were a bad match up, even for a crippled human.

She slammed her elbow into the wall beside the hatch that led down into the rest of the Vehicle, a blood strewn mire stretching out behind her.

Trese pushed air from between her teeth, gritting them in a cage of enameled bone as she pushed through the heat, searing pain, and bruises she had earned from her latest assault.

Though the command deck seemed vacated... the Tank did not stop its movement or attack!

Grunting in frustration, she stabbed her blade into the wall, unholstering a bolt pistol from her hip and spinning on her heel, unloading the gun into the nearby consoles, bursting and blowing them all apart.

Yet even this did nothing to slow or stall the Iron Kingdom's war machine.

But she also resolved to not be slowed or stalled by this either.

She would stop this monster, even if she had to tear out its guts from the inside!

Holstering her gun, she retrieved her sword and slammed her fist against the door control panel.

It squealed open in response, revealing the white helmet face of a dwarven trooper who was about to enter.

"Rrraaaagh!" Trese roared into his face as she pushed her blade through the stunned bearded midget, and into the other dwarf behind him, triggering her blade's chainsaw to roar to life as she slid the sword out, bursting both of them apart.

Blue magic bolts chased and collided with her through the misting gore which coated either wall in the cramped space.

There was no room to evade or maneuver in this thing, so she did not bother to try, charging through the shots, shoulder leading the way as she tackled the dwarven troopers attempting to impede her in the narrow hallway.

Trese crushed white armor with the power of squealing, struggling servos, before turning about and lopping down with her chainsword's hungry blade.

General Trese discarded grace, embracing brutality as she hacked and chopped through armor and flesh, striking the walls to either side with each attack and leaving long, melting furrows in her wake.

A female dwarven trooper tackled her in return, ramming the barrel of her magic musket into Trese's shoulder joint as she did, screaming as she fired. Her right shoulder seized up at this, and was filled with blinding pain.

She used that pain to power a headbutt which shoved the woman, following that up by punching into her with her left arm, her blade slipping from her right hand's fingers, and embedding itself in the floor.

Her gauntleted strike broke every rib in the woman's chest, dropping her to the ground, wheezing and dying.

The soldier behind the female dwarf opened fire, and Trese barely shielded her face from the deathly blue volley, raising her left arm to defend herself as she tried to work some kind of feeling into her right arm.

Trese was roasting alive, and screamed her pain and fury as she charged forward again, ramming into the closet dwarf, knocking he and his brother back and over, though she found herself falling over with them.

The close range blasting devolved into a brutal, grappling melee, the dwarves attempting to use their numbers and magic against her. They tried to pin her down, to put their enhanced strength and weight over her as they shoved their magic muskets into the seams of her armor, barrels seeking to press against any part of her skin or face.

But the searing pain from those attempts only fueled her fury, her rage becoming the death song of all she faced.

Meanwhile, the other dwarves outside the room listened to the struggles occurring behind the doors which led into them, angling magic blasters, listening to the hymns of death, and the cries of fleeting life which almost certainly belonged to their brothers.

And then, silence. They waited, braced into overlapping fields of fire, at least, as much as the cramped confines would allow them.

When the doors slid open, they revealed only inky darkness, the lights in the corridor having been destroyed in the fight.

"Sergeant?" One of the dwarves called.

In response, two, double fist sized cylindrical objects bounced out of the shadows, landing at the feet of the waiting dwarves.

"Watch ou-" The nearest dwarf began to call, but the explosives had been cooked, and provided him no more time to do that.

They detonated, one expelling smoke and glittering, blinding flares, while the other combusted into a raining fireball of burning, searing phosphor, the purifying substance spreading out like the wings of a merciless phoenix, its avian cry carried on the sudden, frantic screams of the dwarven troopers who felt its touch.

Blinded by light, smoke, and fire, they were unprepared to carry out their planned defense as the avatar of God's intolerance made itself known through the divine instrument that was Alexandre Trese.

Minutes later, the Iron Badgermole would cease its offensive action, having reached its assault position, before going silent.

It was surrounded by fellow Iron Badgermole tanks who, even then, not only fired into the enemy position, but opened their disembarkation ramps, releasing their hordes of hundreds of dwarven troops into the front line of the battle.

The troopers of the Iron Kingdom had expected to see the same emerge from this tank as well, forming up for the continuing forward march.

But when the ramp came down, the first things to emerge was blood, smoke, and the diced, burnt remains of the dwarves who had died too close to the exit.

Pools of red flowed down as columns of black were belched out, and up. The rolling trundle of a severed, still helmed head, and the awkward, downward flopping roll of a dismembered white limb were joined by the staggered, limping steps of General Trese, who emerged, while holding her sword in her left hand, hair and armor thickly matted with the blood of just over 300 dwarven troopers.

Smoking from every inch, one eye closed against a searing burn, Trese turned to spitefully regard the dwarves who gawked at her emergence from the slain tank.

Her armor hummed and strained, barely able to keep up with her desired movements now, dragged after her with each plodding attempt she made to approach.

All she could do was stand, unbowed, and glare at them, an omen of their futility. She could not even raise her sword properly any longer, not even in her good arm, but she showed the surrounding enemy no fear.

Instead, when they lifted their magic muskets towards her, she faced them with a defiant, monstrous glare and roared her battle cry, though she could not do more than just that.

And yet, she needed no more than that, no more at all. It was as if her call had heralded Doom itself, for as she let loose her final cry, the steel earth around her seemed to scream back to them, expanding and bursting apart in fiery detonations which scattered the dwarves present with the force of surprise and deadly power.

Several dwarves still managed to send shots up at Trese, which made her grunt as they seared her and impacted into her chest plate, cracking the already worn down and scorched adamantite as she fell back against the ramp. The sound of battle surrounded her then, and most notably, the squeal and sigh of mechanical legs, and the deep throated thumps of vehicle scaled grenade launchers.

A form loomed over her, and it jerked suddenly as she became aware of it, her eyes blinking rapidly to make it out.

A man with a scarred face, a young man. He was in a green uniform, and, to her relief, he was clearly a soldier of the Liberation Army.

Trese was so relieved she almost did not release the sudden vice grip she had seized the man with, having wrapped her armored, left hand fingers around his throat without realizing it.

She winced and let him go, and he rubbed his neck and grimaced, but reached down to help her up. Luckily, they were not alone, several other similarly dressed men crowding around her to pull her up into their arms, helping to support her copious weight once they managed to drag her upright.

She looked around through hazy eyes as Men of Stone fought around them, temporarily driving the enemy soldiers back and away while larger munitions fired from weapons she could not see collided with the super heavy Iron Kingdom's tanks.

That seemed to keep them occupied as they carried her away to a waiting APC transport, and a medical waiting inside.

"What... what regiment..."

She groaned to the nearest man, the man who had found her first. He smiled devilishly at her, seemingly unconcerned with her nearly breaking his neck earlier.

The young man was actually quite handsome, or would have been, past the four raking lines which marked his whole face from one diagonal to the other.

"44th Infantry Battalion, here to do the work." He said. And as she was carried away, she saw that he spoke truly, as the sound of crunching tank treads, booming Wolfhound APC turrets, and the rumble and roar of something far deeper, and far larger, entered into her senses.

"Rest easy, ma'am. You and your men may sustain the fight, but our guns will end it." He said.

There was an air shattering blast then, one which sent the wind whipping and screeching about them, making the medic flinch back, though the handsome soldier did not even twitch.

General Alexandre Trese watched from over the soldier's shoulder as the entire head and half of the body of the Iron Kingdom's "Iron Badgermole" tanks seemed to simply vanish, rent apart by the super sonic passage of the solid shell which had sailed through it.

The one who rendered the enemy's tank was none other than the infamous MTF-16 "Mobile Tank Fortress".

Seeing the Austronesian Empire's most powerful war machine rumbling through the streets and crushing anything from the enemy's corpses to entire buildings, the man smiled.

"Our very Big Guns."

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(A/N: Hello my fellow readers, I like to apologise for not publishing another chapter, it's because I have something that we all feared.

I'm having a Writer's Block.

Anyone who is curious, it is a non-medical condition, primarily associated with writing, in which an author is either unable to produce new work or experiences a creative slowdown.

So, kinda sorry if I made you disappointed, I have a small amount of ideas left for this story. When I first wrote this story, I had an endless amount that I could write down entire 100 chapters, and like I promise, I did. But unfortunately, I started to have no new ideas about this story in the future.

Honestly, nearly all my stories happen when it comes to writing down Final Battles and almost reaching the end. "The Way of the Future" and "Banana Bus Squad X Isekai". I experienced Writer's Block when I'm close to the final and felt I accomplished all my goals and didn't have any left.

And no, it's not because of my new story "Magical Dawn: A New Era on Earth", I already experienced Writer's Block a month before writing that story down.

I estimate that I could write down several chapters more of this story, and I hope you have enjoyed this whole adventure so far.

But hey, if you want to read another Military X Fantasy story where both elements face and balance each other out, the story I mentioned "Magical Dawn: A New Era on 2025 Earth" has that.

Took place in our real life earth, where mana began to appear in our world which changed our society, animals, and the ecosystem changed in just a short time. Superhumans wielding unimaginable power and animals mutated into magical creatures that could raze cities.

Imagine the Fantasy World of First Light of a New Age had merged with our Earth. THAT WILL BE CATASTROPHIC!!

There will be a lot of politics, military battles, and many other things.

There is no exact main character, but rather focus on multiple characters in different storytelling.

While it is a documentary story like News Report, Military Logs, Classified Interviews, and Firsthand Accounts, there is an interesting story telling in there.

And just like the First Light of a New Age, an endless amount of ideas had appeared in my brain that I could make over 100 chapters.

Here is the amount of ideas that I had in my mind and I had written so far.

(Those years were took place in the story)

2025-2026: Arc 1 - Awakening of Mana (Chapter 1-7) 2027-2028: Arc 2 - A New Society (Chapter 8-20) 2029-2030: Arc 3 - The Dark Era 2031-2032: Arc 4 - ??? 2033-2034: Arc 5 - ??? 2035-2036: Arc 6 - ??? 2037-2038: Arc 7 - ??? 2039-2040: Arc 8 - ??? 2041-2042: Arc 9 - ??? 2043-2044: Arc 10 - ??? 2045-2046: Arc 11 - ??? 2047-2048: Arc 12 - ??? 2049-2050: Arc 13 - ??? 2051-2052: Arc 14 - ??? 2053-2054: Arc 15 - ??? 2055-2056: Arc 16 - ??? 2057-2058: Arc 17 - ??? 2059-2060: Arc 18 - ??? 2061-2063: Arc 19 - ???

Right now, I'm writing the part where it took place in the year 2028. And we have a VERY LONG journey ahead.

Anyways, I think this is all. I fortunately have a few chapters left for First Light of a New Age before I'm putting this in Infinite Hiatus and focus on another story.

Sorry but it is what it is.