"Alright! Everyone listen up!" The commanding officer spoke over the intercom linking to the V-45 Peacemaker's passenger holds. "We will be dropped into the Capital city in support of the distress call from a stranded team. Our objective is to locate and extract the Special Ops unit and bring them back to the Empire safely."

He paused for emphasis before speaking in a hardened tone. "This is a rescue, plain and simple. There is no point thinking of who is attacking, that's not our concern right now. Your priority is to make sure that our fellow battle brothers aren't captured or killed. Nothing else matters."

"Sir, yes, sir!" the soldiers roared in unison, and their voices echoed off the steel walls.

The officer allowed himself a small grin, satisfied with the hotblooded soldiers' determination. "Good. Here's the plan, we'll drop at the closest emergency rendezvous point and advance toward their last known location. Following that, Section Two will remain aboard the Peacemaker to provide backup, while Sections Three and Four hit the ground running."

His voice shifted to a more measured tone as he concluded, "ETA to the landing zone is forty-nine minutes. Use the time wisely, get some rest if you can. It's going to be a long march home!"

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

Kingdom Of Edgelaff, Capital City, Centre Plaza, In A Formation, In A Cover.

1st Year of God, Thursday, 3rd Week, Month Of Jonah.

Thunderous shots were being fired all over the surroundings as the entire Austronesian Force found themselves completely surrounded to the brim. Each spot the dwarven occupiers could use as a cover, they efficiently took full advantage of every possible cover.

By this time, they had already understood that the enemy was indeed using repeating muskets, though of a design unfamiliar to the Iron Kingdom.

This alone raised questions, confirming that the attackers likely hailed from neither the Iron Kingdom nor the Third Civilization Zone.

What puzzled the dwarves even more was the absence of any detectable mana or magical energy from their enemies.

But the only trace of mana they sensed is within some magic artifacts they carried. That is all they could find from them.

Still, this anomaly baffled not only the frontline troops but would soon confound the Iron Kingdom's headquarters and mainland strategists.

After all, muskets required considerable mana to unleash bursts of raw magical energy. The wielder's magic power typically amplified these blasts, making firearms an extension of their own arcane abilities.

Not only that, the dwarves' reliance on magic firearms came with its own constraints, as the ammunition for their magic muskets depended entirely on the user's mana reserves. For instance, an average dwarven soldier with a Magicule Level of 1,000 could only fire about ten or less shots before exhausting their energy.

Transcendents, on the other hand, with their unparalleled mana pools, could unleash hundreds of bullets, but such individuals were rare.

Meanwhile, the Austronesian Forces had no such limitations. One of their soldiers, a normal manaless human, quickly deployed a tripod for his light machine gun (LMG).

As the weapon's barrel gleamed in the chaos, he began firing in controlled bursts to conserve ammunition. His LMG, equipped with a massive high-capacity magazine holding 300 rounds, was far heavier than the dwarves' magic guns.

But for Angelo and his team, thanks to the MK-I exosuits they wore, these light machine gun weights felt negligible, as though the weapon were made of feathers.

The light machine gun was on burst fire mode and was shooting three rounds per pull on the trigger. With this style of shooting, a sizable amount of ammunition was being saved while at the same time providing covering fire and maintaining accuracy over its targets.

Concurrently, the squad's firepower was devastatingly effective. Two LMGs provided covering and suppressing fire, while soldiers equipped with submachine guns focused on enemies at close range. Those carrying assault rifles targeted foes farther away with precision. Angelo's team, however, wielded the Arcane Facilitator Magic Rifles, an advanced weapon far superior to anything else in their arsenal.

Suppressing fire kept the enemy disoriented, breaking their cohesion and preventing them from organizing a counterattack. Covering fire, on the other hand, is used to provide essential protection for allied units maneuvering toward better positions. This strategic balance of roles and equipment gave the Austronesian Forces a distinct edge.

So far, with this much fighting power and well-coordinated tactics along with the camaraderie had kept casualties to a minimum. But the tide of battle threatened to shift.

Enemy reinforcements were arriving as dozens of dwarven soldiers with affinities for powerful, specialized magic.

The Austronesian Forces had weathered the storm so far, but the true test of their resilience was only beginning when one vengeful dwarf was focusing on them.

"Come on!" Nathan whispered to the faltering soldier, reaching out and helping haul the weakened soldier into the cover of crumbled stone. "Stay quiet," He passed out his last bottle of water to the soldier and carefully climbed his way over the rubble to get a glimpse of the dwarven soldiers that were still chasing them.

Sliding back down, Nathan crouched beside Angelo. "Boss, we're running out of food, water, and ammunition. The squad's completely spent, physically and mentally."

Angelo didn't immediately respond. He was kneeling beside a fallen soldier, who got shot and died by the magic bullets, and gently draped a tattered cloth over the soldier's lifeless face. With a heavy heart, he removed the dog tag and held it tightly in his hand for a moment before exhaling a long weary sigh.

"I know," Angelo said at last. "We've stayed ahead of that dwarf for now. With the wards up, we should be able to stay hidden a little longer."

"We should be roughly two or three hours from the rendezvous point," Paulo added as he tucked his compass back into his pocket.

Angelo nodded. "Nathan, gather the wounded who still have enough energy to move," he ordered. "Paulo, take a few men with you and see if you can scavenge some supplies from the streets. Food, water, anything."

Paulo nodded, looking depressed as his face shadowed with guilt. They'd found no sign of Marco after the last battle, and the absence weighed heavily on all of them. Without a word, he turned to carry out the task, Nathan patting his shoulder in silent reassurance as they left to gather volunteers.

Angelo exhaled deeply and returned to his grim work of wrapping the fallen soldier's body in cloth and securing it with rope scavenged from a nearby shop. They'd been trained never to leave a man behind, and he wouldn't break that principle, not now, not ever. When he finished, the soldier's body lay in a makeshift shroud, ready to be carried.

He glanced up to see their two dwarven captives staring at him. The younger dwarf glared furiously, his muffled protests punctuated by futile struggles against his bindings. If looks could kill, Angelo thought grimly, he'd be dead a hundred times over.

The older dwarf, by contrast, remained calm. Though equally bound and gagged, he sat still, watching with the quiet patience of someone who knew reinforcements were coming.

Angelo turned his attention to the "Magic Anchor" nearby. The device emitted a subtle field that suppressed all Magicules from spreading and prevented any magical tracking the dwarves might attempt.

Despite this precaution, fighting these dwarves had cost them four soldiers who were now dead.

Transcendents were no joke.

If it wasn't for their magical gears and weapons, they would be nothing more than humans getting slaughtered by living comic book characters.

One of the fallen had suffered devastating internal injuries, beyond the reach of healing potions or even their most advanced medicines.

And Marco... Marco was missing in action, presumed dead after his desperate battle with the old dwarf, but looking at the end results of the devastated battlefield, there was a very high chance Marco was dead, blown to pieces.

Angelo clenched his fists, and his jaw tightened as he stared at the two captives.

Four good men lost, traded for these two... It wasn't worth it. He'd give anything to have his soldiers back instead of holding two bound dwarves as leverage.

But he couldn't afford sentiment now. If these "hairy midgets" could be used to force the Iron Kingdom to back off, then so be it.

With one last pat on the improvised body bag, Angelo rose to his feet. He refused to spend any longer near the people who caused the deaths of his men. Anger and grief churned in his chest as he turned away, unwilling to waste another moment in their presence.

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

The tilt rotors of the V-45 Peacemaker whined loudly as the craft hovered just outside the towering walls of the Capital City of the Edgelaff Kingdom.

The walls stood eerily unguarded as every dwarf soldier had been ordered to scour the city in pursuit of the scattered humans, and the Peacemaker used that as an advantage and deployed two-thirds of its forces to the ground below.

"It's kick-ass time!" soldiers shouted as they surged down the ramp. "Move, move, move!"

The men of 2nd Battalion, Eagle Company, Platoon 1, leaped down the ramp and fanned out in a tight security cordon as the flight crew began unloading crates of supplies off the bird.

In the middle of this organized scene, one crew member paused, and his breath catched as he witnessed something extraordinary.

A towering two-meter-tall humanoid figure made entirely of stone stepped past him. Moving with surprising grace for its size, the massive construct reached the edge of the ramp and leaped into the air.

A thunderous *thud* echoed as the Men of Stone landed with the soldiers, its digital camouflage coating shimmering briefly in the dim light.

"Damn," one soldier murmured, feeling awestruck. "No matter how many times I see them, the Men of Stone are as badass as ever."

Despite their advanced exosuits, magic guns, and sheer numbers, the soldiers couldn't shake the feeling of awe and unease. Facing one of these walking juggernauts head-on? Half of them wouldn't survive.

With the soldiers and supplies offloaded, a flight crew member called into the intercom, "Chief! Troops are all on the ground! Closing the door!" He slapped a large red button, and the rear hatch of the Peacemaker began to seal with a mechanical whir.

Meanwhile, the Men of Stone swirled its head left and right, as it absorbed information of its surroundings as it noted the Peacemaker was already lifting off, hearing its engines roaring as it departed, but the construct's attention remained fixed on the mission ahead.

The Men of Stone were a recent marvel of the Austronesian Empire's military engineering, the brainchild of Odysseus and Yoshiyuki Tomino.

Each Combat Walker housed a motherboard powered by a 512-terabyte silicon chip with millions of lines or code fused with a mana stone as its brain, creating a pseudo-AI capable of operating autonomously while following commands from high-ranking officers.

Its core was fueled by refined Dragonite ore, while its veins pulsed with lines of intricate magical formations, and its "muscles" were carved from enchanted stone.

The construct was a walking arsenal. Its primary weapon was an autocannon loaded with a dozen 25mm Mithril Rounds.

These hybrid rounds combined the lethality of conventional bullets with the power of rocket-propelled grenades. Fired initially like a standard round, the projectile's miniature rocket engine would ignite upon exiting the barrel and accelerated it to high speeds over long distances. Each round featured a hardened Mithril tip to pierce armor and a high-explosive core designed to detonate on impact to maximize the damage.

"Alright! Let's move out!" the Commanding Officer barked.

With precision honed by relentless training, the soldiers spread out and advanced into the city with the Men of Stone followed behind at a slow pace.

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

"Go!" Angelo yelled as Dwalin suddenly appeared without any warning.

The dwarf's armored body radiated with arcs of crackling electricity, bathing the surroundings in a menacing glow. His war-hammer, the fearsome [Stormbreaker], swung with devastating force, obliterating everything in his path from buildings, civilians, and anything else caught in the crossfire reduced to dust without distinction.

"Stop him! Buy time for the others to escape!" Angelo yelled as he dragged the two bound dwarves behind him. "Nathan! Paulo! Take points!"

Nathan gave a sharp nod and helped lift the body bag onto Paulo's shoulders before both soldiers sprinted off with the rest of the Special Operations team. Paulo tossed a handful of magazines toward Angelo, who caught them mid-motion and shoved the ammunition into his pouches.

"Stop!" Angelo yelled at Dwalin as he dropped the two captive dwarves to the ground and ripped off their gags. Drawing his Glock, he aimed it squarely at the captives. "Or they die!"

"What are you waiting for, you skank? Kill them!" the younger dwarf with a fiery orange beard spat.

Dwalin froze mid-stride as the arcs of electricity danced along his armor dimming slightly. His glowing eyes flicked toward his bound comrades, surrounded by the guns of the Special Operations soldiers.

The silence was tense as Dwalin's gaze lingered on his friends, then he spoke in a cold voice. "Sure, release them, and you and your men can walk away."

Angelo shrugged nonchalantly. "Finally, a civil conversation for fucking once. But let's be clear, if you don't retreat, your friends here won't live to see the outcome."

Dwalin tilted his head, and the glow around him intensified as he hefted Stormbreaker. "You know what? Have it your way." With that, he took a deliberate step forward.

"If that's the way you want to play it," Angelo didn't hesitate. "Sorry, no offense," he muttered to the captives. Then, with a cold efficiency, he fired.

BANG!

The younger dwarf let out a strangled cry as the 5mm round tore through his calf like paper, the bullet shredding muscle and tendon before burying itself in the soft wet dirt ground in a spatter of bright red blood. He stared dumbfounded at the tiny red hole where blood was starting to flow out of his wound, and slowly his mind caught up with the situation.

Angelo briefly felt a pang of guilt but forced it aside as his focus snapped back to Dwalin. The towering dwarf had paused with a curious expression despite the situation.

"What kind of magic musket do you wield?" Dwalin asked, his tone betraying genuine interest.

"This?" Angelo replied, keeping his pistol trained on the captives. "None of your business. Leave now, and you and your friends get to walk away once we're at a safe distance."

Dwalin's smile vanished, replaced by a chilling emptiness. "Those weapons of yours... fascinating. If you don't wish to tell me, I'll just take them from your corpses." and he charged forward with frightening speed.

"Keep dreaming, asshole!" Angelo growled and signaled his team. A split second later, gunfire erupted in the street. Thunderous cracks filled the air as bullets tore toward Dwalin, who swung Stormbreaker upward, ignoring the impacts against his electrified armor.

"FLASH OUT!" Paulo shouted a warning as he tossed a flashbang toward the charging dwarf. The grenade detonated in a burst of searing light and a deafening blast. Dwalin instinctively raised his war-hammer and shielded his face, but the effects still rattled him.

"Petty tricks! Let me show you the power of 'real' light!"

Dwalin slammed Stormbreaker into the ground, and his body exploded with a surge of energy.

"[Electro World]!"

Like a God of Thunder, a blinding light burst from him like a supernova, and within seconds, the air itself crackled with raw energy, and everything within 100 meters was consumed by a storm of electricity, turning the battlefield into a sea of lightning!

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

The streets in front of the advancing platoon lit up in a sudden blaze of light, halting the soldiers in their tracks.

"Move! That way! Double time! Go, go, go!" the commanding officer yelled as he snapped them into action.

Without hesitation, the troops charged through the city, paying no mind to the danger of tripping over or breaking an ankle in their mad rush as they focused solely on reaching the source of the commotion.

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

"AHHHHH!!"

"AHHHH!!"

"AHHHHHHH!!"

The soldiers and dwarves screamed as lightning tore through them, the air thick with the crackling of electricity and the acrid stench of ozone.

Nathan instinctively shielded his eyes, but the blinding light pierced through his flesh, revealing the stark outlines of his bones.

"BACK!" Angelo shouted while his eyes shut tight and felt the electricity coursing through his body, yet his Mithril armor dulled the worst of the magical attack. The sensation was unbearable, but it kept him moving.

He followed the sounds of the screaming dwarves and reached down as his leg kicked a thrashing body. He reached down and grabbed the person and started to drag the kicking body through the storm of lightning.

"Grab the other one!" He yelled as he forced himself forward.

Suddenly, a force slammed against him and sent him flying and crashing into a nearby building, causing the concrete structure to splinter upon impact. His Mithril armor sparked violently as the damage taken overloaded his shield.

Angelo's vision was blurry, but as he blinked away the haze, he saw his team, alive, though barely. The Mithril armor had spared them from death, but they were battered, and their movements became sluggish and pained.

The rest of the Special Operations unit, however, had fared far worse. All that remained of them was a fine layer of ash scattered across the ground.

"Ah, fuck..." Angelo muttered under his breath, feeling both exhausted and frustrated at the loss of more men under his command.

Then he saw it, a dwarf standing in the middle of the destruction, his body glowing with an unearthly light, while his face twisted into a gentle, almost serene smile.

"I'll just take your legs. Be a good lad and stay still, will you?" the dwarf said in a disturbingly calm tone as he raised his massive warhammer.

The weapon swung down in a blur of motion, but before it could connect, someone tackled the dwarf from the side, sending both rolling across the cracked ground.

Dwalin turned his head, feeling his pulse quickening as he found out that the attacker was one of those human soldiers who had wrapped his arms around him and shoved him away.

Despite his height disadvantage, Dwalin slammed his elbow down sharply at the human's ribs with brutal force, causing the soldier to cry out in pain, and his hold loosened.

With a swift knee strike, the dwarf sent the soldier flying, and his body smashed through multiple buildings with sickening crunches.

Dwalin, now upright, let out a triumphant laugh. He glanced down, and his smile faltered as he noticed two dark olive-green objects rolling to a stop at his feet.

"You little-"

BOOM!!

A deafening explosion followed. Flames and smoke engulfed the area, and the ground trembled under the blast's force.

From the ruins of the building, Paulo coughed up blood, while his left arm and leg dangling in a weird angle and contorted in ways it shouldn't be. He managed a weak defiant grin and stuck a trembling middle finger as he watched the two grenades he dropped at the dwarf blew up, before fading to the darkness as it claimed him.

"Paulo!" Nathan yelled as he called out to his teammate. His stomach churned at the sight of Paulo's shattered body, but the twin grenade explosions refocused his attention back to the dwarf, only to see him standing there remaining almost unscathed

"Son of a bitch!" Nathan growled as he raised his AF-1 rifle and opened fire, round after round erupting from the barrel, with the muzzle flash illuminating his rage.

To his surprise, he saw his rounds sending the dwarf jerking back, and realized that the grenades must have deleted the magic protections from his armor or something.

So he switched to conventional weapons and kept his fire up, emptying all shots in his assault rifle, and dropped his rifle to its sling and quickly drew his Glock, pumping all 30 rounds in the pistol's magazine into the barely standing dwarf before him.

"Is that all?" Dwalin suddenly spoke, his unmagical armor dented, several bruises could be seen and his ears and nose were leaking a small trail of blood. His usual cheerful mood was gone, replaced with a chilling aura, the golden glow turning bluish as he stood up and wiped the blood off his nose.

He looked down at his warhammer, which had several cracks on its head, and cracked his knuckles with deliberate menace, as he coldly stared down at the lone man with the empty pistol in his hands.

"Die!"

Dwalin swung his hammer and unleashed a massive bolt of lightning that ripped through the ground, leaving a jagged trench in its wake and obliterating the buildings beyond. Nathan threw himself to the ground at the last instinct, rolling to the side in a desperate bid to avoid the devastating attack.

But the dwarf wasn't done. Another swing sent another bolt of destruction coursing toward him, and Dwalin charged forward, closing the distance with terrifying speed. Nathan scrambled to dodge while firing desperate shots that Dwalin slapped away with contemptuous ease.

From the side, a barrage of gunfire rained on him. Dwalin glanced sharply toward the source and spotted Angelo, the human squad leader, shooting his guns at him, causing a wave of anger grew in him.

"Why won't they just die already?" he thought angrily.

"AHHHHHHHHH!!"

He roared out, unleashing a shockwave of raw electrical energy that sent both Special Operations soldiers tumbling down and left the dwarven captives screaming in terror. Angelo collapsed, coughing and vomiting blood that splattered the ground as his mithril armor flickered weakly, unable to absorb the immense power of the attack.

Dwalin turned his attention back to Nathan, who struggled to his feet with defiance burning in his eyes despite the odds.

"I'll gouge those eyes right out of your skull, pretty boy!" Dwalin sneered.

With a powerful leap, he launched himself forward, each step propelling him several meters foward, his right arm raised back, and his two fingers hooked back, ready to claw out Nathan's eyes as he kneeled down the ground.

"Hey asshole!"

A new voice suddenly came from behind, followed by the thunderous crack of gunfire, making Dwalin jerked as bullets impacted against his back. He rolled to the side to avoid the rounds and glared at the shooter.

"Marco!" Nathan cried out as he half-crawled to cover while dragging his heavy rifle along with him. His voice was hoarse, but relief shone through. "You lucky son of a bitch is still alive!"

"Lucky?" Dwalin cocked his head, "I don't think so, he'll die with the rest of you soon enough!"

"Yeah? Tell that to the crazy old bastard who tried to kill me with 500 magic missiles," Marco laughed, reloading his gun as he moved and pointed to one of the dwarven captives tied nearby.

Dwalin's gaze flicked toward the unconscious dwarf. "Balin?" He spat a glob of blood onto the ground. "Useless fool."

His focus snapped back to Marco and Nathan. "Enough talk. It's time for you all to die!"

"Okay!" Marco shrugged with a cocky grin. "You first!" And fired his AF-2 rifle at the wildly dodging dwarf charging at him. "And here's a present!" He threw a grenade toward Dwalin's path, then hopped down the rubble and disappeared from sight.

Dwalin's eyes grew wide as he recognized the olive green colored ball and twisted to avoid the blast, but the explosion still clipped him. His already weakened magical shields flickered and sparked, barely holding together.

"You'll pay for that!" Dwalin gave a curse and swung his hammer with all his might, obliterating the entire building where Marco had taken cover, sending debris flying in every direction.

"Missed me! Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!" Marco yelled out mockingly from another building. He dropped to one knee, steadying his rifle as he fired off several rounds at the furious dwarf. "Damn it! How do we stop this crazy little asshole!"

RUMBLE-!

All of a sudden, the ground trembled violently, cutting off all sound save for the deafening roar of something massive. Before anyone could react, the earth erupted, and a towering machine burst forth.

The Iron Kingdom's infamous "Drilling Machine Vehicle" emerged from the earth, its monstrous size dominating the battlefield.

The back hatch lowered with a metallic clang, releasing a flood of dwarven soldiers, 100 strong, armed with glowing magical muskets and crackling shock lances as they aimed towards the remaining Austronesian Empire's Special Operation soldiers.

"Uh... that's bad, right?" Marco glanced at Nathan, his usual bravado replaced by unease.

"...We're so screwed."

"FIRE!!!"

A violent storm of magical energy erupted from the dwarven forces, bullets of arcane light and sizzling arcs of electricity raining down on the remaining Austronesian Special Operations soldiers.

Fortunately, Angelo and his team were able to make it into the nearest building for cover, but the shelter barely held as the bombardment from thousands of magical gunfire shredded the walls and ceilings, leaving little more than splinters and rubble.

The once-proud squad of twelve strong men was now reduced to four. Exhausted and injured, they used their remaining strength to fire back with their handguns, but their efforts seemed pitiful against the Iron Kingdom's overwhelming might.

Paulo cried out as a glowing magic bullet struck him in the stomach. The mithril plate in his armor absorbed much of the impact, but the sheer force fractured his ribs, and the searing heat burned deep. He collapsed against a crumbling wall, gasping for air.

Whether he could live is up to how quickly he would be provided with aid.

BOOOOM!!

The ground quaked as the Drilling Machine's top-mounted magic cannon blasted a devastating orb of immense magic energy. The blast leveled the entire building, sending Angelo, his team, and their two dwarven captives flying through the air.

Miraculously, they landed in the center of the plaza, alive, but battered, bloodied, and surrounded by an army that wouldn't stop until they were utterly destroyed.

"Humans! I, Prince Dwalin Hammerfall, heir to the throne of the Iron Kingdom, declare this battle your doom!" Dwalin declared as his voice thundered across the plaza, each word laced with the power of his ancient bloodline as it coursed through him. "Be honored, for this is only the second time I have unleashed this power against mere inferiors like you. I will wipe you all out!"

He turned sharply to his soldiers, and his golden eyes blazed with fury as he ordered.

"Warriors of the Iron Kingdom! CHARGE!!"

The dwarven soldiers roared in unison, rallying to their prince's command. Seeing their weakened opponents as easy prey, the Iron Kingdom's warriors charged forward into the center of the plaza with all their might, shaking the ground with their march and collective might. Many dwarves began to glow as they activated magic skills that heightened their strength and fury to effectively punish those who dared to confront them.

That's when suddenly a loud flapping sound reverberated throughout the area, followed by an ear-splitting screech that brought the dwarves to a stunned halt.

Before anyone could react, explosions erupted in the heart of their formation. Dozens of dwarves were thrown into the air with their bodies torn apart as limbs and guts scattered across the plaza.

The Mobile Drilling Machine's magic cannon swiveled upward, searching for the source of the attack, but it too was bombarded by explosive rounds as they rained down, ripping through its armored hull and obliterating the massive vehicle in a fiery blast, leaving nothing but smoldering wreckage.

With confusion rising from everywhere, the dwarves retreated en masse to a safe location to which after, an unfamiliar noise roared across the battlefield, a sound unlike anything they had ever heard.

The whine of engines descended as the VTOL Aircraft hover menacingly into view above the plaza.

From his position, the radio of Angelo who was laying in the ground heavily injured suddenly transmitted and he could hear a confident voice echoing over the channel.

[Buckle up! The Cavalry has arrived!]

The Peacemaker made a revolution around the center plaza while the dwarves below could only watch in stunned horror as the V-45 Peacemaker unleashed its wrath. Its gatling guns and rotary cannons roared, unleashing a torrent of Mithril .50 caliber BMG rounds and mowed down everything in its path. The plaza ground was painted crimson blood, and dwarven ranks were disintegrated under the assault as dozens upon dozens of bodies fell and debris littered the battlefield.

From his position, Dwalin stood frozen with his eyes widened in disbelief as he watched his forces crumble before the strange metal contraption.

"No! I won't let you destroy my army before yours!"

With a mighty roar, Dwalin raised Stormbreaker. The massive warhammer crackled with raw energy and lightning danced along its surface as he channeled his remaining power and aimed to unleash his ultimate ability, one capable of leveling entire armies.

"[Eye of Thu-"

"ONE ROUND AWAY!"

The cry rang out, and a thunderous crack echoed, followed by a high-pitched whistling *wooooosh*.

Before Dwalin could finish his incantation, an explosion engulfed him, knocking him back with a concussive force that shattered his concentration.

Nathan and Marco turned in surprise as a new force entered the fray. Dozens of camouflaged figures emerged from the surrounding buildings, moving like shadows and laughing madly to themselves as they opened fire with their weapons that lit up the battlefield, unleashing a fresh wave of destruction upon the Iron Kingdoms troops.

Reinforcements had arrived.

"Hit that wisecracking asshole again!" the commanding officer commanded. "All ASL-1 teams, mark your target!"

The Arcane Storm Launcher (ASL) teams moved into position, hefting their weapons and waiting for the smoke to clear. As the haze lifted, it revealed a coughing and visibly furious Prince of the Iron Kingdom, who was swatting at the lingering smoke with indignation.

"ONE ROUND AWAY!"

The command was met with a deafening barrage. The ASL-1 teams fired in unison, each mana-infused rocket screaming through the air and detonating with violent precision.

The entire plaza shook under the repeated blasts, followed by another and another, and the luminous aura of Dwalin's Unique Skill began to slowly diminish.

By the seventh hit, the glow of his power had fully dissipated.

"ENOUGH!" He roared, sending a thunderous shockwave that sent most of the nearby soldiers flying away from the force of his powers like ragdolls. "I AM A PRINCE! AND I WILL NOT BE INTOLERATE BY A BUNCH OF-!"

Another rocket smashed directly into his face, cutting him off mid-rant and sending him sprawling into the dirt.

"GAH!" he snarled in frustration. Struggling to rise, Dwalin glanced down at his weapon and realized the spell he had painstakingly cast was gone.

"How could the power of a Transcendent be matched by these... inferiors!?" he growled through gritted teeth. Summoning what remained of his energy, he gripped [Stormbreaker] tightly and swung it with all his might. A blinding arc of lightning erupted from the hammer, tearing through the air toward a cluster of advancing soldiers.

"You will not defeat me!" he roared as he raised his hands to gather more energy. "I WILL CRUSH YOU ALL LIKE ANTS!"

"Arcane Facilitator Machine Guns, now!" the commanding officer ordered sharply.

The gunners armed with the new AFMG-1 "Magebreakers" opened fire. The battlefield lit up as streams of red tracer rounds tore through the air, forcing the enraged dwarf to dodge frantically.

"HIT HIM WITH EVERYTHING!" the officer yelled. "KILL THAT LITTLE SON OF A BITCH!"

"HORAAH!" the soldiers roared as they let it rip!!

Magical rifles, magical machine guns, and even an occasional magical RPGs pummeled Dwalin relentlessly. Smoke and sparks erupted all around him, and the overwhelming force of the concentrated barrage of 4 Magebreakers and over 20 magical rifles left him pinned, forcing him to be able to focus on defending only and unable to mount a counterattack.

Dwalin growled as the strange Magic guns were seriously draining his recovered magic, his previously recovered wounds started to hurt again and those strange but deadly powerful bullets had further weakened his body and magic a lot.

"STOP THIS NONSENSE!"

"EAT SHIT AND DIE, YOU HAIRY MIDGET!" A bulky soldier shouted as he let loose a spray from his AFMG-1, laughing as the prince struggled to evade.

"Wahahahaha! Run, little boy, run! We're coming for you!" another soldier taunted.

Suddenly, a deafening *BOOM* punctuated the chaos. The Men of Stone, a massive armored support unit, entered the fray by firing controlled bursts of 25mm rocket-propelled grenades. The explosives detonated in Dwalin's body, cutting off his retreat and driving him further into the crossfire.

"RAWRRRRRRRR!!!"

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

"Cease fire! Cease fire!" The commanding officer yelled as Dwalin retreated from sight, "Check your weapons! Medics! Get to work! We got wounded here!" He quickly directed the men into action, "Section Three and Four set up a defensive perimeter!" He gestured decisively to the corners of the plaza. "Here and here! Sergeants, take charge of your men! Move!"

After doing a revolution or a circle around the center plaza, the V-45 Peacemaker landed on the ground in the middle of where the special operation soldiers were at.

The hatch hissed opened and what the soldiers inside saw was not something they had expected.

The battlefield was littered with injured soldiers, bloodied, bruised, and broken. Some lay with grotesquely deformed limbs, their hands or legs twisted unnaturally. Whether they would recover depended entirely on the skills of the medics back at the Empire.

The soldiers aboard the Peacemaker moved quickly as their instinct took over. They fanned out to establish a protective perimeter around the injured, weapons at the ready. Others disembarked carrying white stretchers and rushed through the debris-strewn battlefield toward the most critically wounded.

Upon arriving at the heavily injured soldiers, they made haste as they carefully placed the soldiers on the stretchers. After they had placed it, they rushed back to the Peacemaker. The lightly injured soldiers were carried with their arms at the neck of the other soldiers as they were carried back to the Peacemaker.

Meanwhile, the commanding officer who led the units walked up to the two operators that were in a sorry state but still standing.

"Report soldier!"

Marco and Nathan both straightened up despite their injuries and snapped to attention, "Sir! Specialist Corporal Nathan and Specialist Private Marco reporting, sir!"

"What happened, son?" The officer asked, gesturing for them to sit down while the medics were still tending their wounds, "Take a breath and give me the rundown."

The two soldiers gave out their own accounts of the situation, detailing every moment from the building escape to the brutal clash with Prince Dwalin and his forces. By the time they finished their report, the medics had stabilized the critically injured and strapped them securely to stretchers in preparation for evacuation.

"Damn, that was a hell of a fight," the commanding officer muttered, nodding in admiration of their capabilities. "Alright, stock up on ammo, food, and water. We're moving back home. You've earned a damn good rest."

The commanding officer stood up and glanced around the destroyed plaza, an artificial clearing roughly the size of a small marshaling field with stumps of broken buildings, and large pieces of rubble littering everywhere.

It resembled more a battlefield graveyard than the bustling urban center it once was.

He looked at his Platoon Sergeant who wordlessly handed him a note and read the contents.

"Seven wounded, one critical from Platoon 4. Special Ops team has eight dead, two walking wounded, the team leader and one more in critical condition. And we have two prisoners, both slightly shaken up, one of them had a gunshot wound in the leg but he will survive."

The commanding officer folded the note and handed it back. "Secure the prisoners," he ordered in a firm voice. "Treat them with basic courtesy, but if they so much as flinch wrong, don't hesitate, shoot them."

When all the injured soldiers were finally safe inside the Peacemaker, including the two prisoners, the other soldiers who formed a defensive perimeter outside immediately rushed in towards the Peacemaker.

That's when suddenly, a barrage of magic bullets rained down on them.

"Enemy fire!!"

The shout rang out as several soldiers were got shot, stumbling and limping back toward the safety of the Peacemaker. Those still capable of fighting scanned the surroundings and used the door-mounted machine gun as it roared to life, sending deafening bursts across the area as the dwarven soldiers scattered and dove for cover as bullets chewed through rubble and dirt.

The Men of Stone joined in as it fire its autocannon and was able to precisely mowed down many dwarves with each shot, giving the humans a more breathing room to regroup and retreat.

From behind their makeshift barricades, a few daring dwarves poked their heads out to fire their magical muskets. One of the dwarves aimed his Shock Lance at the last human who was retreating and struggling toward the peculiar flying machine.

The lance released a crackling bolt of lightning just before the dwarf was being taken down when a 25mm round from the Men of Stone blew his head and upper body apart, and he crumpled to the ground with his eye rolling on the floor frozen in confusion.

The lightning bolt came at a blistering speed as it neared at the white of the eyes of the exposed soldier.

At the last moment, another human leapt in front of him and raised a SWAT shield to intercept the bolt as it slammed into the shield with a sizzling explosion, but the impact was overwhelming. The SWAT shield, clearly not designed to withstand such intense magic, began to melt almost instantly.

As the molten metal dripped toward his skin, the soldier grimaced in agony as he struggled to tear the shield away, but the molten remnants stuck to his flesh, burning through tissue and leaving him with severe third-degree burns. With a guttural scream, he wrenched the shield free, taking some of his own flesh with it. Blood streamed from the exposed wound as tears streaked his dirt-streaked face.

Despite his injuries, he acted on pure instincts as he grabbed the dazed injured soldier nearby and dragged him toward the Peacemaker with staggering determination. The soldiers inside provided covering fire with their weapons barking out in controlled bursts.

The Peacemaker's mounted gatling gun offered limited support, its operators wary of damaging the craft's structure or tires now that it had landed.

The soldiers pushed the button and the ramp of the door was pulled back and closed on them. Now the hardest part is now, and that is to be able to safely depart from the center plaza as they are now vulnerable with only the gatling gun below the Peacemaker being able to shoot. However, it was only able to fire, as the Peacemaker hadn't taken off yet.

As the ramp began to rise, sealing the soldiers inside, the engines roared to life. The powerful turbines sent gusts of wind blasting outward, whipping up dust and debris as the aircraft prepared for its most vulnerable moment, which was lifting off.

The dwarven soldiers stared in awe and disbelief. This bizarre contraption was unlike anything they had ever encountered. There was no trace of magic emanating from it, no energy to detect, no enchantments to analyze. To the dwarves, such a thing should not exist.

In their mind, there were too many questions and fewer answers.

If this technology wasn't powered by magic, then what was it? As a race that craved for knowledge, their frustration boiled over into a determination to uncover the truth.

"We need answers," one of the dwarven officers barked. "Capture them! Find out what they are!"

The wings of the Peacemaker, particularly those where tilt motors were at, began to rotate, as the Peacemaker started emitting stronger and louder sounds that nearly drowned out all other sounds. The powerful gusts generated by the engines blasted across the battlefield, forcing the dwarven soldiers to push back a few inches, and their footing compromised by the sheer force of the wind.

Realizing the bird-like machine was preparing to escape, a few determined dwarves raised their magic muskets and opened fire. However, the magic energy bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the craft's sleek surface.

This was the moment they realized that it's armor is forged from Orichalcum, a metal far too durable for their standard magical weaponry.

Noticing their magic bullets seemed to have no effect, one dwarf soldier readied his Shock Lance. Unsure whether the machine was a marvel of magic technology or some unknown species of wyvern, he decided not to take chances. Using every single ounce of mana in his body, he fired a bolt of lightning at maximum power, enough to melt even the strongest steel, straight at the airborne craft.

The crackling lightning streaked through the air at blistering speed, aimed directly at the Peacemaker. Inside, the soldiers watched in alarm as the deadly bolt approached, feeling their hearts pounding.

But just as it seemed disaster was imminent, the peacemaker gained enough strength in its engines and propelled the aircraft upward with a sudden burst of speed, and the bolt missed by mere inches before it dissipated harmlessly into the air.

The Peacemaker climbed higher, and its altitude grew rapidly as it left the battlefield and the dumbfounded dwarves behind.

"AHHHHH!"

Dwalin roared in frustration as he slammed his clenched fists into the ground with a force that sent cracks spidering across the concrete. He glared after the retreating craft, feeling his rage boiling over.

Looking over to the dwarven soldiers across the plaza, he shouted.

"IS THERE ANYONE ELSE IN THE SKY!?"

A soldier hesitantly stepped forward and responded, "The rest of the Lightning Warrior units are still dealing with the remaining Edgelaff Kingdom's military forces, while the other Mobile Drilling Machines won't be able to meet up with us since they are providing support to our ground troops back at the mountain."

All those words didn't calm Dwalin down as he clenched his fist so tightly as his mind was about to explode and destroy everything in his sight, until another soldier cautiously added.

"But... we do have 'one' thing flying around in the sky."

Dwalin froze, and his breathing slowed as he calmed his mind down and his hand ceased clenching. Fixing a burning gaze on the soldier at his back, he growled.

"And what might 'that' be exactly?"

"...A Dragon."