I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World-Chapter 83: The Battle Outside Part 1

Inigo crouched on the rooftop, peering over the city wall as the black mist grew thicker—pressing against the defensive wards like a tide about to break.

From this height, he could see the entire south front.

Hundreds of armored figures stood ready.

Knights in plated armor glowed with enchantments. Shields raised. Lances poised.

Behind them, rows of battlemages anchored defensive sigils into the cobblestone streets. Flames hovered at their palms. Lightning snapped between staves. Arcane circles whirled like gears in the air.

Adventurers of all ranks filled the gaps. Rogues with cloaks wrapped tight against their bodies. Warriors with greatswords slung across their backs. Even a few summoners and beast tamers stood ready, their familiars growling restlessly at their heels.

This wasn’t just a defense.

This was war.

And yet, Inigo knew something was off.

The mist—unnatural in the way it moved—didn’t behave like smoke or fog. It swirled with intent, like it was alive. It avoided certain paths, coiled around others, sometimes shaping vaguely humanoid forms before dissipating again.

But he didn’t sense mana.

At least not the kind that was normal.

Down below, a squad leader shouted, "Barrage on my mark!"

Arrows and fireballs launched into the mist. Screaming streaks of light vanished inside the darkness.

Then—

Nothing.

No reaction. No impact sounds. Just... silence.

Then the screaming began.

It came not from the demons, but from the soldiers in the front.

Dozens collapsed in place. Some swung their weapons wildly at empty air. Others clutched their heads, howling in agony. A few just froze entirely, their faces blank as dolls, eyes flickering like broken lamps.

"What the hell...?" Inigo muttered.

He blink-dashed to a lower rooftop for a better angle.

That’s when the true attack began.

The mist broke apart—and from within it, monsters charged. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel-com

Twisted beasts with elongated limbs. Skin like oil-slick armor. Dozens of eyes blinking all over their bodies. Some ran on all fours, others floated, tentacled and shapeless like nightmares given form.

The city defenders answered in kind.

A volley of spells lit the night sky.

Flames detonated. Ice shards rained like daggers. Lightning arced between spellcasters and targets with thunderous force. The front line knights met the charge with a solid wall of shields and swords, crashing against the demons in a cacophony of metal and roars.

Inigo watched, his hands tightening around his pistols.

Even with all this firepower, the demons weren’t faltering.

They moved like they didn’t care about pain.

Some burst into dark smoke only to reform moments later. Others were cut down—only to be replaced by more pouring from the mist.

"An illusion? No... not quite," he said under his breath. "It’s like they’re half-real. Flickering between layers."

More screams.

A squad of adventurers vanished in the fog. No trace. No bodies.

Then, out of nowhere, a thunderous blast rocked the southern wall.

One of the barrier crystals exploded.

The protective field cracked.

A breach.

Demons poured in like water from a burst dam.

Mages scrambled to reinforce the formation. Knights tried to plug the gap, but they were being overwhelmed.

Still, the defenders held.

Barely.

Inigo dropped down into the alley behind the wall. He landed on a scaffold, then slid to ground level, moving through a narrow side street as he watched the chaos unfold through the gaps in the buildings.

Screams.

Explosions.

Flashes of light and shadow.

From this close, he could hear the whispers.

Voices layered over each other. Male and female. Old and young. Laughing. Mocking. Crying.

They clawed at the edges of his mind, like fingers brushing against his thoughts.

He shook his head.

"Get it together. You haven’t even fired a shot yet."

Then his system interface blinked.

TOKEN BALANCE: 18,905

NEW EQUIPMENT AVAILABLE

CATEGORY: HEAVY WEAPONS

M134 MINIGUN – 12,000 TOKENS

AMMO PACK – 5,000 ROUNDS – 1,000 TOKENS

ACCESSORIES: SHOULDER STRAP HARNESS, COOLANT RIG, GYRO STABILIZER INCLUDED

"Perfect."

He swiped the prompt.

PURCHASE CONFIRMED.

ITEM DELIVERED TO INVENTORY.

EQUIPPING...

A bright light burst beside him as the massive minigun manifested in a swirl of digital sparks.

He grabbed the grips.

Heavy, but manageable thanks to the stabilizers. He clipped the ammo belt into place and rolled his shoulders.

The barrels spun slowly.

The whine of power build-up thrummed through his arms.

He looked toward the breach.

Toward the flood of demons still coming in.

"Alright..." he muttered. "Time to test the merchandise."

But before he could move, another wave of screams echoed through the street—this time from the inner city.

A second mist—thinner, but spreading fast—began to snake through the alleys.

People began stumbling out of their homes.

Eyes empty.

Some clutching their heads. Others mumbling nonsense. A few raised weapons and started attacking civilians without warning.

Inigo’s blood ran cold.

"This... isn’t just a front-line attack."

Something deeper was at play.

Illusions.

Madness.

Fear made real.

And yet, through it all... one thing stood clear.

He had to fight.

Whether it was the gates, or the streets, or the very fabric of the city’s sanity being unraveled—he couldn’t let it fall.

He raised the minigun.

The barrels spun faster.

And with a mechanical roar, he stepped out of the alley.

"Let’s clean house."

The metal spun to a scream.

Inigo squeezed the trigger.

A storm of bullets ripped forward, roaring from the barrels like a god’s chainsaw. The sheer force kicked dust and debris into the air. Inigo’s arms trembled with every rotation, but he held firm—aim locked on the breach.

The first line of demons disintegrated under the hail of lead. Limbs tore. Bodies shredded. Black ichor splattered across stone and steel.

Dozens fell in seconds.

Inigo didn’t stop.

He swept the barrels in wide arcs, mowing down wave after wave. The recoil tried to drag him, but the stabilizers held. Heat shimmered at the end of the barrels. Empty casings poured out like brass rain.

"COME ON!" he shouted over the thunder. "YOU WANTED IN? HERE’S YOUR WELCOME PARTY!"

Adventurers at the breach turned at the sound—and some of them cheered.

"Who the hell is that guy?!"

"I don’t know! But I’m fighting next to him!"

Inigo advanced through the debris-strewn street, carving a path forward. His boots crunched over shattered cobblestone and twitching limbs. The minigun hissed with heat, smoke trailing from the coolant vents.

But the tide wasn’t slowing.

For every demon that fell, two more came.

And deeper in the mist... something watched.

"So that’s the aberration."

Follow current novels on freewe(b)novel.c(o)m