Rumble...
The totem barbarians thundered across the battlefield, charging headlong toward the Astra Militarum.
These barbarians were not simple-minded brutes. In truth, Chamber barely needed to issue commands; every warrior in his ranks knew instinctively what they faced, opponents armed with devastating long-range firepower, from disciplined musketeers to aircraft bristling with weapons.
They had only one choice: close the distance as fast as possible. If they could storm into enemy lines before the volleys reached their peak, they might survive at a smaller cost. But if they failed... the result would be nothing short of a massacre. That was the brutal truth of war.
Typically, those skilled in close combat lacked the same strength at range. The balance of warfare rarely allowed a single warrior to excel equally in both. Was there even a Supernatural species that combined the lethality of a sniper with the ferocity of a frontline berserker? Perhaps, in the long annals of planetary history, such creatures had existed, but if so, they were rarer than myth.
"Deploy the electromagnetic rifles and cut them down!" Lando's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
The electromagnetic rifle was no ordinary firearm. It was a marvel of modern engineering, the pride of the Astra Militarum, painstakingly developed over decades to replace traditional gunpowder-based weapons.
Unlike rifles that relied on explosive propellant, these weapons harnessed the raw might of electromagnetic induction. Coils of energized current propelled projectiles to unimaginable speeds, each shot carrying kinetic energy enough to punch through steel. The leap from powder to magnetism, however, was no simple feat.
Even with the finest scientists in the Imperium, progress had been agonizingly slow. After years of research, they had only managed to achieve a functional prototype, and even that came with limitations.
The problem wasn't just metallurgy or design. It was power. Electromagnetic weapons demanded tremendous currents to accelerate rounds. To increase velocity or extend firing rails, exponentially stronger energy sources were required. High-capacity batteries became the bottleneck of innovation.
A rifle may be compact, but its power cell needs to be dense enough to deliver immense surges of electricity while still fitting into the soldier's kit. For years, it seemed impossible, until recently. A breakthrough in energy storage had finally turned concept into reality.
Each electromagnetic rifle now carried a new-generation battery capable of sustaining thousands of shots before a recharge was needed. But even that had limits.
The solution? The Pikachu. One thousand of these strange, chubby, electrically charged creatures had been deployed alongside the Astra Militarum as a stopgap measure. Initially, skeptics doubted their utility, but field tests proved them invaluable. The energy a single Pikachu could unleash at once was staggering, enough to completely recharge a rifle with just a flicker of its internal reserves.
"Electric mounds! Ready to recharge!" Cyrus's voice boomed across the battlefield.
All around, the Pikachu crouched in place, their small bodies sparking with anticipation as they stared curiously at the charging barbarians. At his command, they chirped in unison, electricity dancing in the air as if answering a war cry.
Teams of Guardsmen paired with Pikachus darted between positions, their movements swift and instinctive. The creatures, drawn by a natural sensitivity to depleted energy, rushed to weapons in need before anyone had to signal.
One by one, Guardsmen swapped out their old assault rifles for the sleek, angular silhouettes of the new electromagnetic rifles. The weapons looked alien, strikingly futuristic.
"Huh? Is it just me, or is Sebastian's unit weapon… different?" Inside the viewing box, Clifford tilted his head, suspicion sharpening his tone.
Others turned toward the feed, their eyes narrowing as they studied Sebastian's weapon.
"It's definitely different," Otwin said, blinking in surprise. "I'm certain his weapon didn't look like that before."
Previous updates had made subtle adjustments, but this was more than a redesign. This was innovation forged into steel.
"It's a new model," Terrell observed with a faint smile. "Looks powerful. More powerful than anything we've seen them use before."
And it wasn't just rifles; mounted on the Scarab Walker were racks of electromagnetic guns. Sleek, multi-barreled death machines that replaced the old continuous-fire models. Instead of traditional cartridges, they fired solid alloy rounds designed specifically for Supernatural creatures with extraordinary resilience. These new bullets, spiked and heavy, could cleave through armor that standard rounds merely dented.
Rumble...
The barbarian horde closed in, their war cries shaking the air. The distance shrank from four kilometers to three in seconds. They were now within range.
"Open fire!" Lando's order cracked like thunder.
Gone were the deafening bangs of gunpowder; instead, the air filled with an eerie hum, high-pitched, mechanical, alien.
VRRRRRMMM—CRACK-KKKTZZZ-ZZAP!!
A deafening surge of electricity tears through the air as the gun's rails hum with violent energy.
Then came the storm.
FWOOOSH-KRAAANG!!
The projectile screams downrange at hypersonic speed, a thunderclap echoing as it slices through the atmosphere.
A sharp ZZZZZZT-POP! follows, as arcs of blue lightning crawl along the barrel, fading into a low WHUMMMMMM… of residual power.
A torrential downpour of spiked alloy rounds rained from the lines, black streaks slicing through the sky like razor-edged hail.
The velocity was the true terror of the electromagnetic rifle. Powered by the rare Tearstone Alloy, the Imperium's old assault rifles had already reached blistering speeds per second, with sniper rifles climbing higher, yet even they were capped. Electromagnetic rifles shattered that ceiling, as rounds moving faster than sound itself, their destructive force nearly doubled.
"Musketeers?" Chamber scoffed, a smirk tugging at his lips. He wasn't impressed.
The Black Flame Giant in the previous battles had been nearly as tough as his barbarians. Once they invoked their totem powers, their natural defenses became monstrous. He had studied Sebastian's fight against Hess in detail. Aside from missile strikes from aircraft, he had concluded, nothing the Astra Militarum carried could truly harm his warriors.
"These little pellets will scratch their skin at best," he thought with contempt. "When my army breaks through their lines, I'll lose a few hundred more, perhaps… but their musketeers? They'll be crushed like ants."
He chuckled darkly.
"Sebastian… oh, Sebastian," He murmured under his breath, eyes glinting. "Two minutes. That's all I need. Two minutes, and your musketeers will be corpses at my feet."
Hoo… hoo… hoo…
Inside the arena, the first volley screamed through the air. A single spiked bullet, faster than the wind itself, cut a whistle as it flew.
The lead barbarian didn't even flinch. He barreled forward, muscles rippling, his mind dismissing the incoming round as nothing more than another projectile.
A mistake.
A fatal one.
The sharp crack of impact was almost anticlimactic. The bullet tore through his totem-reinforced hide as if slicing paper, burying itself deep within his torso. Its spiked shape twisted violently as it entered, shredding flesh and bone like a saw blade. They spun and churned at high speed inside the barbarian's thick and towering body, piercing through flesh and bone with unstoppable force.
The rounds ripped clean through, tearing out the back of the hulking figure before their momentum finally slowed, slamming into the barbarian behind him.
Poof, poof, poof!
More spiked bullets followed in a relentless storm, raining down without pause.
The army of barbarians had charged in a single, compact formation, not even attempting to spread out. They barreled forward as one mass, making themselves an easy target.
The soldiers of the Astra Militarum barely needed to aim. Their rifles barked with mechanical precision, sending death in straight, unerring lines. Not a single round missed its mark.
In mere seconds, the first volley cut through over three thousand meters of open ground, striking the leading ranks of barbarians with merciless accuracy. Even those empowered by their totemic blessings couldn't react in time.
The bullets hit home. They tore through hide and muscle, ripped through torsos, and exited in showers of blood and splintered bone.
In less than a second, an uncountable barrage of spiked alloy rounds riddled two dozen towering figures. Their massive torsos, once symbols of brute strength, were now canvases of carnage, pocked with bullet holes so densely packed that they resembled hornets' nests.
The rate of fire was staggering. Electromagnetic rifles had been significantly upgraded, now capable of unleashing twenty rounds per second, while the electromagnetic machine guns were even more devastating.
"Looks like we won't even need to join the field," A Guardsman manning one of the massive machine guns said, voice brimming with excitement.
The electromagnetic cannons, far more powerful than the rifles, demanded a tremendous amount of power. Each one required its own portable electric motor and cost a fortune to produce. Only a handful were deployed, reserved for emergencies. But now, with the rifles performing so well, their heavy artillery seemed unnecessary.
The crack of gunfire filled the air. One electromagnetic rifle spat out twenty spiked rounds in seconds, and with thousands firing in unison, the Astra Militarum unleashed a storm of two hundred thousand bullets.
Even the barbarians' enhanced physiques and mystical totem power couldn't shield them. Those struck by hundreds of spiked rounds collapsed in heaps, dead before they hit the dirt. The rear ranks fared no better.
From above, the barbarian army resembled a golden field of wheat brought low by a scythe. The front lines crumpled first, falling in neat rows, and those behind them buckled and fell in waves.
Within ten heartbeats, over a thousand barbarians lay dead, riddled with bullets, their bodies shredded beyond recognition. The destructive power of dozens of stacked, armor-piercing projectiles tore their torsos apart, leaving nothing intact.
But the barrage didn't stop. The rifles roared on, cutting through barbarian after barbarian.
And as their numbers dwindled, the supernatural domain conjured by the totems collapsed. The aura that had rendered the Astra Militarum vulnerable vanished in an instant.
"Their domain is down!" A scientist shouted, voice breaking with excitement.
"Eagle Squad, prepare! Keep firing missiles! Deliver a killing blow!" Lando barked the order, his voice sharp and commanding. With the enemy's mystical shield gone, missiles would once again reign supreme.
The fighter pilots leapt into action, eager to redeem themselves. Their earlier salvos had been humbling; weapons once considered unstoppable were neutralized by the enemy's totemic barrier. But now, with that defense shattered, vengeance was theirs to claim.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
A fresh wave of AGM-62 Walleye streaked skyward, arcing toward the barbarian ranks.
As the missiles rained down, the electromagnetic rifles continued their grim harvest, thinning the enemy's numbers with ruthless precision.
In mere moments, chaos engulfed the battlefield.
Even Clifford, Sebastian's closest ally, could only stare in stunned disbelief. Moments ago, they had been frantic, scrambling for a way to protect Sebastian from the barbarians' oppressive domain. But now, victory was unfolding before them, thanks to a single musketeer, a soldier long overlooked, who had fired the first decisive shot, bringing down one of the towering foes.
Missiles fell in devastating sequence. Each found its mark, obliterating barbarian warriors. A keen-eyed pilot even spotted the barbarian chief, a colossal figure exuding power. He loosed a missile, striking true.
The chief had no chance to evade. The missile struck with a deafening boom, reducing him to a mangled heap of flesh and shattered bone. Those caught in the same blast fared no better; their bodies were torn apart by the concussive force. The air was filled with fire and smoke.
In one devastating volley, hundreds of barbarians perished, and hundreds more were maimed, their formation in disarray.
Now wary, the barbarians had learned to scatter at the sight of incoming missiles, reducing the weapons' killing power. But even if they dodged the missiles, they couldn't escape the rifles aimed at them. The Astra Militarum's relentless hail of bullets was impossible to avoid. Under such a rain of steel, survival meant little more than luck.
On the Astra Militarum's side, teams of scientists monitored the carnage closely. This was the electromagnetic rifle's debut on the stage, and its effectiveness exceeded expectations.
"It works. These rifles pierce barbarian flesh cleanly," One scientist reported, "but it takes over 50 spiked bullets to bring one down. Twenty shots to the vitals will suffice."
The raw durability of these Supernatural creatures was staggering, but no one was surprised. The estimates had been grim from the start.
"Keep recording data. We need exact values," Lando ordered, voice steady. "Don't get complacent. This was only possible because we caught them off guard."
The barbarians, however, were reeling in shock. When had the enemy's weapons become so deadly?
"Are they still refusing to surrender?" Cyrus, watching the slaughter, tilted his head in disbelief.
"It won't be long now," Lando replied coldly.
Despite scattering, the enemy's numbers dwindled with terrifying speed. In less than a minute, the combined might of rifles and missiles had reduced their force by 5,000.
Inside the command chamber, Chamber's confident smirk had vanished, replaced by an expression of disbelief and dread.
"This… this can't be happening," he muttered, his voice hollow.
Only moments ago, his army had been poised for victory, mere kilometers from the Astra Militarum's defenses. The totemic field had rendered enemy missiles useless. He could already hear the crowd chanting his name, celebrating his impending triumph.
But now? In an instant, the battlefield had shifted. All because of a single musketeer and a well-placed shot.
"No," Chamber growled, hands trembling as madness flickered in his eyes. "I can't lose. I was supposed to break into the top thousand, maybe even the top five hundred of the entire Area. I was supposed to prove myself… to crush the family's smug heirs!"
His rage boiled over, but deep down, reason clawed its way back. The battle was lost, and he knew it.