"Still want to resist?"
Ash stared at the one-eyed man and spoke calmly.
"Behave and do as we say, and you'll live."
"You… can talk?"
Garry was stunned again; he glared at the steel monster in front of him.
"Zack and the others—did you take them too?"
Ash didn't answer; he simply repeated the line.
"I only say it once."
"Surrender—or not?"
The towering steel frame stepped forward, one heavy stride at a time.
Watching those scarlet eyes draw closer, Garry felt a wild idea erupt in his chest.
"Heh… surrender?"
He chuckled, a sly glint flashing across his eye.
"Let's see if a lump of scrap like you can even catch me first."
The instant the words left his mouth—
BOOM!
The ground beneath him exploded into a crater; without a shred of hesitation he spun and sprinted for the far side of the base.
He'd already seen it: these things had monstrous strength and defense, but speed was their clear weak spot.
He wasn't as fast as those speed-type Awakened, but he could definitely outrun a hunk of iron—escape wasn't impossible.
At the sight of his lightning-fast retreat, the Iron Golem Ash controlled simply halted, making no move to chase.
Yet the sliver of hope that had just flared in Garry's heart was crushed the very next second.
Directly ahead, both flanks, even overhead—
ripples of violet space flickered into being.
Dozens of Shadow Marine Warriors, armed with odd-shaped blades, spears and halberds, sealed every route of escape.
WHOOSH!
One Shadow Marine wielding a long sword blinked in beside him and slashed horizontally.
"Looking to die?"
Garry reacted instantly, twisting to block with the energy-wreathed bracer on his arm.
Just as he prepared to smash this thing that dared close in—the warrior vanished on the spot.
At the same instant—a chill brushed the back of his neck.
Another Shadow Marine, twin poisoned daggers in hand, had silently teleported behind him, stabbing straight for his vitals.
He rolled forward, dodging the fatal strike.
Before he could steady himselfe—above, yet another Shadow Marine appeared overhead with a war-hammer, bringing it down with mountain-shaking force.
Again and again.
The whole battlefield turned into a cat-and-mouse farce.
Every second he faced attacks from several directions at once, each strike cunningly angled.
He tried to counter, but the instant he locked on, the attacker would vanish, leaving him punching empty air.
And in the split second his old force faded and new force hadn't yet formed, the next—then the next—assailant struck from an angle he could never predict… Inside the Command Center, Steve watched the spatial ballet of slaughter on the screen, satisfaction in his eyes.
"Not bad. After only two days of training they can already coordinate tactically with the Enderman blink."
Beside him, General Randy and the others stared, utterly captivated.
This utterly unreasonable fighting style was a nightmare for any close-quarters powerhouse.
"Still… a pity."
A trace of regret lingered in Steve's mind.
"Mass-producing the Body-Enhancement Fluid still needs a bit more time."
"If they could drink it now, raising their neural response and dynamic vision another notch…"
He gazed at the screen, already picturing something far more terrifying.
By then their coordination wouldn't be this crude several-strikes-per-second level.
It would be dozens—maybe hundreds—of Shadow Marine Warriors launching simultaneous killing blows from every possible angle, 360 degrees without a single gap.
Besieged by these ghost-like warriors, Garry, though battered, relied on a Tier 3 Awakened's monstrous body and battle instinct to weather wave after wave.
BANG!
He smashed a Shadow Marine who'd blinked in too late; the warrior's body dissolved into violet smoke mid-air.
Yet two longswords from dead angles still left thin cuts on him.
"What a shame."
Gasping, Garry frantically calculated.
"Those iron lumps with freak strength and defense can't keep up with me."
"And you speed-demon ghosts don't hit hard enough to break Tier 3 defenses."
He roared, partly to encourage himself, partly to mock the enemy.
From the watchtower Ash, viewing through the Iron Golem, let out a low, cold laugh.
"Idiot."
"Who told you we're here to kill you?"
"Something specialized will deal with you."
Ash knew that with a Tier 3 Awakened's shell that could tank artillery, whittling him down with cold weapons was nearly impossible.
Their mission had never been to kill—only to delay, to keep him from escaping.
Though trading blows with the endermen, Garry kept most of his attention locked on the demon-like Iron Golem standing motionless in the distance.
That thing was the greatest threat in his mind.
Seeing it hadn't pursued, he sneered inwardly.
They must believe these ghost-fly warriors alone could finish him.
Right then—the battlefield shifted again.
Every Shadow Marine simultaneously blinked back, breaking close contact.
In their hands appeared odd-looking Standard-Issue Rifles.
BRRRT!
Blink, fire; blink again, fire again.
An even more hopeless nightmare began.
Garry could only watch bullets pour in from every imaginable angle.
The instant he rushed toward one muzzle, the shooter vanished—only for shots to ring out behind him.
"DIE!"
Spotting a Shadow Marine mid-reload, he exploded forward, a blur of motion, and pounced.
Yet, one second before he could land the blow—the Shadow Marine Warrior, together with his empty rifle, vanished from the spot.
A heartbeat later, purple light flashed a short distance behind him.
A brand-new Shadow Marine Warrior materialized as though freshly spawned, teleporting beside the first and handing over a fully loaded magazine and a dozen dark grenades.
The entire sequence was fluid and flawless.
Watching this, Garry's mind snapped.
The nerves stretched taut by constant combat finally broke.
"W-what the hell, are we even still playing this game?"
He howled in hysterics.
Steel monsters that repaired themselves in seconds were bad enough.
Now even their ammo teleports in—an endless free refill?
Before he could recover from the shock, the newly resupplied Shadow Marine Warrior lobbed all dozen grenades straight at him.
Faced with the threat of being blown to pieces, Garry's eyes erupted with savage light.
He held nothing back and played his ultimate trump card.
"Super-Alloy Body."
Buzz!
A strange energy wave burst outward, centered on his body.
Skin, muscle, even bones were instantly drenched as if by molten metal, taking on a brilliant, mysterious silver-white sheen.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The dozen grenades detonated together.
Terrifying shockwaves and flames swallowed his position whole.
As the smoke slowly cleared,
a man clad in dazzling silvery metal stood at the blast's heart, slowly lifting his head—unscathed.
The black eyepatch that had covered his right eye was shredded by the blast, revealing the hidden, extraordinary eye beneath.
That eye was forged of flowing silver, an icy, haughty silver pupil radiating endless coldness and pride.
"Now…"
He spoke slowly, voice tinged with smugness.
"I am Garry the one-eyed DRAGON!." In the Command Center, Steve watched the transformed figure on the screen, a faintly amused smile on his face.
"Chuunibyou much…"
He turned his head and asked,
"Randy, when do the missiles arrive?"
General Randy pointed at another screen and replied solemnly,
"They're here. The golems troops have airlifted the first batch of missile launchers above the battlefield; deployment is ready at any moment."
"Good."
Steve nodded, a playful glint in his eye.
"I'd like to see what this so-called dragon can really do."
What he was thinking was,
"Though strategic weapons aren't recommended at this stage…"
"…what if I simply hang a hundred tactical missiles over his head without firing—let them drift there in plain sight?"
"Anyone would shiver at that."
On the battlefield Garry raised his head, his silver eye sweeping over the expressionless Shadow Marine Warriors encircling him.
On those black monsters' faces he saw no emotion.
No shock, no fear—only dead silence.
Yet he misread that silence as terror.
"Good…"
He grinned, brimming with confidence.
"So you know you should fear me."
"Fearing the strong is only natural."
Garry's arrogant, self-assured voice echoed across the ruins.
He smiled, his gleaming silver-white body giving off a faint luster under the gloomy sky.
The next moment, the ground beneath his feet exploded, and he shot forward like a dazzling silver comet, a shell aimed at the nearest Shadow Marine Warrior.
With absolute strength and speed he would crush these flies that hid in shadows—one by one.
Yet, just as his silver flash was about to strike,
Boom!
a thick trail of fire, like a divine whip, descended from the sky and slammed precisely onto him.
A violent explosion instantly swallowed him.
When the flames and smoke faded, his supposedly indestructible figure re-emerged.
He had blocked the falling shell with one arm; not a single scratch marred his silvery body.
His other hand lightly brushed his forehead.
"Trying to ambush—"
Arrogance and confidence still filled his face.
The Shadow Marine Warrior before him hadn't teleported away. The warrior's purple eyes simply regarded him calmly, then slowly raised an arm and pointed skyward.
"Look above you."
The cold voice reached his ears clearly.
The ominous premonition in Garry's heart peaked.
Frowning, he slowly lifted his gaze toward the sky now crowded with white specters.
The first thing he saw… was… "T-the hell? A tank?"
His eyeballs nearly popped from their sockets.
Atop each of those huge ghost-white cubic creatures now sat a Main Battle Tank, its barrel still smoking.
Tanks that fire while flying? Whose army is this?
It completely upended every notion he had of the world's weapon systems.
Yet what chilled his blood even more than flying tanks was the far vaster canopy above the white specters— row upon row of gigantic missile launchers.
All their launch racks were slowly elevating.
Huge tactical missiles, bright red five-pointed stars painted on their warheads, quietly aimed at the ground below.
Countless of them.
Filling the entire sky.
At that moment the motionless titan of steel, like a demon god, stepped forward with heavy strides toward him.
Watching the approaching steel colossus and the sword of Damocles overhead—enough to erase this area and his soul from the map—
Garry dared not move.
He didn't even dare think of running.
No way.
If those ghost-like black monsters suddenly teleported a missile launcher right beside him, he would be finished.