The Invasion of El-Ladh (Part 3)

The pumpkin beast had reacted quickly.

The moment its foot stepped down, it managed to track the small object that suddenly sprang up from the earth. Yet, knowing it was there did nothing to help it respond.

Gurgle?

It simply had no concept of what it was looking at. The lump of iron had leaped into the air under its own power, yet it was far too cold and lifeless to be any kind of living creature. Certainly, no beast could ever have anticipated that thousands of steel ball bearings and jagged fragments would detonate outwards from such a tiny container. The pumpkin beast had reflexively raised a mana shield just in case, but against sheer physical kinetic force, magic was utterly useless.

"Good heavens..."

"T-To think they flew all the way over here..."

Countless minute fragments tore through the air in every direction, moving at velocities that even keen elven eyesight could not track. Discovering those metal shards embedded deep in tree trunks dozens of paces away was more than enough to send a cold shiver down the elves' spines.

"Juddak is a terrifying person, he is-eyo."

Her habitual verbal tic slipped out unbidden. Eliana fixed her gaze on the thrashing pumpkin beast.

SKREEEECH!

It unleashed a horrific shriek that sounded like iron claws raking down a chalkboard. Normally, watching those colossal, spindly limbs twist and flail in agony would have terrified anyone. It should have been horrifying, yet the little metal landmine they had just witnessed was exponentially more frightening than the monster itself.

"Not designed to kill..."

When she first heard those words from Juddak, she had failed to understand. What was the point of creating a weapon if its purpose wasn't to kill the enemy? Now, the horrific truth was laid bare before her eyes.

Thwip, thud!

Gurrrk...

The elven sentries raised their bows in unison, driving arrows deep into the creature's vitals to end its suffering once and for all. Strangely enough, the dead monster's contorted visage almost appeared relieved in death. Even though they had neutralized the threat with absurd ease, none of the elves felt like celebrating.

"...Good work, everyone. You may disband now. I will go make our report to Her Majesty."

"Hooray!"

"El-kkiyahou! Clocking out early!!"

Naturally, leaving work on time was something no elf could resist. Eliana let out a faint sigh as she turned her eyes toward the distant canopy where the capital city of Eladrien lay nestled.

Inside the royal office wrapped in living World Tree boughs, Queen Armion was replaying the short gallery clips for the tenth time.

"Good heavens."

No matter how many times she watched, it looked like miraculous grand magic. Befitting the sovereign of the elven race, her long, pale-blonde hair cascaded gracefully down her shoulders, and her vibrant emerald eyes glittered with unbridled fascination. She had been hailed as a magical prodigy her entire life, but she had never seen anything like this.

"Incredible. No, it is utterly wondrous!" Swept up in excitement, Armion swept back her blonde bangs with a soft exhale to calm her racing heart. "I finally understand why humans treat Juddak as a god. When he displays power like this, how could anyone fail to believe?"

"Indeed. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠high-explosive grenades he provided previously were already weapons unlike anything this world has known."

"Exactly! When that thing went BOOM!, heavens, I jumped out of my skin..."

Chattering away in sheer delight, Armion playfully jabbed her index finger into Eliana's stiffly upright waist.

"Eek!"

Eliana flinched violently at the sneak attack, glaring back while Armion's eyes danced with mischief.

"My, my... using formal speech again?"

"...You are the Queen of all elves. We cannot always act like we did in the past."

"The Knight Commander under the Queen's direct command... talking back?!"

"..."

A throbbing headache assaulted Eliana's temples. Having grown up beside her as close childhood friends, she knew all too well how playful Armion truly was. Ever since they assumed the mantles of Queen and Knight Commander, Armion's complete disregard for etiquette in private had caused Eliana no end of grief from watchful elders.

"Fine, Armion. Happy now?"

"Where did your cute little accent go?"

"...Happy now, is that it-eyo?"

"That's what I'm talking about!"

Ever since the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Gallery came into existence, the Queen had absorbed all sorts of bizarre internet slang and made a habit of throwing it around. Watching the monarch of the proud elven race wiggle her shoulders while spouting forum lingo, Eliana felt an indescribable emptiness deep in her chest. This... is the Queen of the Elves?

Armion was also one of the few who knew Eliana's secret identity: that she was none other than Full-Health Elf, the gallery's Sub-Moderator.

"I'm so jealous of you sometimes. You get to chat directly with Juddak, don't you?"

"I suppose so."

"And recently, you even handed him a token braided from your own hair! Goodness gracious, you're practically—*Mmph!*"

Panic-stricken, Eliana clamped her hand ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over Armion's mouth. She jerked her head around to verify no other guards were listening, but within a heartbeat, she felt a wet, warm sensation against her palm.

"Ah!"

"Hehe."

Naturally, it was Armion's tongue. The dynamic between them hadn't changed a bit since childhood. Yet tragically, the state of the world—and the atmosphere hanging over El-Ladh—could no longer afford such innocent peace.

"...You know it too, right, Armion? Variant beasts are gathering around El-Ladh one after another."

"Yes. They are kin to that pumpkin beast, aren't they?"

These were not creatures merely mutated by the ambient corruption of a Rift; they had been force-fed dark vitality directly through its pulsing tentacles. More of these abominations were beginning to slither out from the deep forest.

"And yet, we cannot destroy the Rifts..." Armion fell into grim contemplation.

Rifts resembled colossal crystallized gems, yet no matter what spells or physical force the elves brought to bear, they could not crack them. Were they doomed to simply wait inside their borders until another abomination marched out to strike?

"What should we do? The younger generation won't sit idly by and wait."

Unlike the traditionalist elders, young elves ate meat, traveled freely, and spent Dango with reckless abandon. Practically every spicy elf photo uploaded to the gallery was their handiwork. Telling them to stay cooped up because of an unseen danger was not going to fly.

"Still, we have no choice."

Lifting the curfew just to appease their restless frustration would only lead to slaughtered elves. Armion refused to stomach such pointless bloodshed. Just as she was debating whether she needed to tighten security even further—

"Eeeek?!"

Staring down at her interface, Eliana let out a squeak of shock, her mouth falling open into a round 'O'.

"W-What is it? What happened?"

"Look at this."

Eliana turned her screen toward the startled Queen. Right there on the forum board was a brief message from the Head Moderator.

"Good heavens."

The attached image showcased an array of hardware, starting from the bounding fragmentation mines they had just used to hulking, heavy-duty metal discs several times larger. To think such devastating weaponry was as common to Juddak as pebbles on a roadside.

"Armion?"

As Eliana called out hesitantly, the Elf Queen thrust her face right up to the glowing display. When she whipped her head back toward Eliana, her pale skin was flushed with an ecstatic, feverish red glow.

"D-Do all of these go BOOM! like the grenades and jumping mines?!"

The pumpkin beast had served as an excellent test subject.

After all, watching the raw efficacy of modern military hardware—something I'd never get to see with my own eyes back on Earth—was endlessly entertaining.

"Did they say this was only the beginning?"

According to my Assistant Moderator, these encounters weren't just periodic waves. High-threat mutant beasts were simultaneously being sighted across the entirety of El-Ladh.

"What should I bring out next..."

That meant there were plenty of opportunities to test out more gear. Right on cue, a new thread popped up on the gallery feed.

I couldn't care less about elves and humans bickering. It was just their daily staged wrestling match. Instead, my attention zeroed in on the massive creature bloated with dense muscle and fat. While bounding fragmentation mines could technically bring it down, the agonizing wait until it bled out was miserable for everyone involved. Given its sheer bulk, the torrents of corrupted blood it sprayed during its thrashing were contaminating Elad Forest, not to mention the headache of cleaning up hundreds of stray ball bearings scattered over hundreds of meters.

Browsing through the system store's explosives category, I spotted a peculiar top-attack mine situated among the high-tier listings.

"Oh, is this the play?"

Something like that would undoubtedly vaporize those hulking brutes in one clean shot. There was just one glaring issue: the price tag.

119,190 points.

"Yeah... let me go look somewhere else."

With that many points, I could purchase enough surplus World War II anti-tank ordnance to pave a highway. Buying a single single-use mine that cost more than my entire underground shelter was out of the question.

"Oh, this should do the trick."

Cheap, reliable, and possessing more than enough punch to flatten armor, my eyes locked onto the M15 Anti-Tank Mine.

Ten of them would be more than enough. It didn't matter if an alpha beast twice the size of that pumpkin monster showed up. These steel platters had been engineered specifically to shred multi-ton main battle tanks; flesh and bone wouldn't stand a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠prayer.

"Alright, let's send these over and... huh?"

Just as I was about to close out the shop interface, my hand froze. There on the screen sat the most iconic war weapon in human history—an old, familiar friend.

The moment my eyes registered what it was, my fingers stopped dead in their tracks.