As the engineers rigged the massive steel gate with explosives, Marek addressed his troops with a commanding presence while the dark steel barrier loomed before them.
"The moment we breach this gate, the dungeon will respond in kind," Marek stated, his voice steady as he turned to face his men. "The first chamber may be limited in traps and mobs, but it almost always begins with an immediate assault. They’ll be counting on catching us off guard."
His soldiers nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. Marek continued, unwavering, "But we’re prepared. The tanks will rush in and absorb the initial hits, and the support squad will shield them with Aegis preemptively. Once we’re all in, we advance together in standard formation."
Radborn, standing close by, nodded in agreement. The support squad moved swiftly, casting Aegis, a protective spell that enveloped the tanks in a soft, gray glow, enhancing their defenses.
"Let’s show this Dungeon Master we’re no rookies!" Marek shouted confidently, rallying his troops as the engineers completed their work.
"Ready to blow!" one of the engineers shouted.
Marek unsheathed his bastard sword and held it up. "Fire!" he shouted.
A deafening explosion echoed through the wasteland as the steel gate was blown apart, sending shards of metal flying and leaving the steel bent inward, revealing a large passage through.
"March!" Marek shouted as he stepped through the smoldering remnants first, his golden shield held forward, the bastard sword in his other hand glinting in the fading light. The tanks followed closely behind, forming a wall of steel, with the DPS and support squads trailing them.
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Inside the dungeon, the atmosphere was tense. Techneadore watched through his surveillance feed, anticipation building. "Any minute now," he muttered to himself, feeling the thrill of the impending battle, his mechanical heart metaphorically pumping like a carburetor.
Suddenly, the feed showed a flash of light and metal shards flying, followed by a moment of nothing as the dust settled, and then movement—the first of the Infernal Legion soldiers stepping into his domain. A large knight, clad in black armor and holding a radiant golden shield, led the charge. Behind him, more tanks followed, all similarly armored.
"It has begun!" Techneadore exclaimed with excitement.
Without hesitation, four autocannons mounted on both the floor and ceiling opened fire from different angles, their barrels whirring to life as they targeted the tanks.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"Cannons, four of them!" Marek shouted. "Brace for impact!"
The cannons roared, their barrels glowing red-hot as they unleashed a torrent of rounds toward the front line. The tanks braced themselves, shields raised, but the sheer volume of fire was still overwhelming for an entry volley.
"Fire squad, take them out already!" Marek barked, frustration lacing his voice.
A massive fireball passed over the heads of the tanks and hurled toward the turrets. The explosion was immense, engulfing all the autocannons in flames. The heat of the blast sent molten metal fragments raining down, their glowing remnants swirling like dying embers. The silence after the explosion was only disturbed by the rain-like tickling of the fragments hitting the ground.
The whole scene could be mistaken for a firework show from afar.
"No need to yell so much," Aine remarked, sticking her tongue out at Marek playfully. "We got it, see?" She gestured toward the smoldering blast crater with a flourish.
But before Marek could reply, the silence was shattered by the sharp crack of a gunshot, followed by an explosion.
"AAAAGGHH!" A woman in the support group screamed, her body greatly maimed from the blast.
"Shit! A sniper turret behind us!" Radborn shouted as he spotted the attacking turret.
As the tanks rushed to intercept the firing line, an intercom beep was heard.
Techneadore’s voice crackled over the intercom, dripping with mockery. "It seems you haven’t quite gotten all of them yet, dear."
Aine’s eyes blazed with fury as she whipped around, spotting the sniper turret. "You bastard!" she shouted, launching a small fireball at the offending machine.
Techneadore’s laughter echoed through the intercom. "Haha, good! I like your spirit, madame. Let’s see how far it gets you."
"Aine, stop wasting your spells on petty targets!" Marek barked harshly. "Don’t let his baiting get to you."
Techneadore’s voice returned, now laced with exaggerated concern. "Oh, Aine, is it? I do so hope you make it to my main chamber. But I fear your fireballs alone won’t be enough... so sad."
The intercom cut off with a beep, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.
"What an arrogant bastard," Radborn muttered, shaking his head. "Don’t let him get under your skin."
"Hmph, fine," Aine replied, her voice tinged with frustration.
Radborn sighed while he held his hand against his head and walked to the injured support member. "We already had to use our first Beltane's Glow for major recovery. That’s not how it normally goes. We have an experienced adversary, it seems."
Marek’s expression darkened as he surveyed the place where the turret had been stationed. "That sniper was hidden in the walls, and nobody could detect it. We can’t afford to be caught off guard like that again."
The wounded support member winced as Radborn began healing her, speaking a short lyrical verse. His hands started glowing with a soft, warm, golden light.
Marek watched as the gentle radiance mended the wounds. "How bad is it?" he asked.
Radborn replied with distaste, "She has practically every bone on her right side broken and severe burn wounds..." Looking back up at Marek with at least some positivity, he added, "We are somewhat lucky that I'm capable of amending both of these quite efficiently, however."
"Will she be fully healed then?" Marek asked.
"No, but she'll be combat ready," Radborn replied starkly.
"Hmm, good enough." Marek nodded as he turned back to his tank squadron.