Bell trudged on, guided by Harris's insights on the weather patterns, which he hoped would reveal clues about the whereabouts of the missing group. The recent storms had blanketed the snowfield, hindering their progress, but Bell couldn't afford to slow down. Time was critical; the children's safety hung in the balance.
As he moved forward, his senses sharpened, Bell considered the challenges the storms posed. They would have made the children's journey perilous, perhaps driving them to seek refuge. Yet, the same storms obscured their tracks, complicating Bell's search. It seemed miraculous that he had managed to follow their trail this far. Bell couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that this wasn't a case of children wandering off; it was more sinister – a kidnapping.
Driven by urgency, Bell quickened his steps, transitioning from a brisk walk to a run. He was acutely aware of the stakes: the settlers' trust in his abilities hinged on the outcome of this mission. He had to return with the children, whether they were dead or alive.
After a relentless pursuit, Bell reached a point where the tracks vanished. Beyond this point lay a small encampment, distinguishable by the wisps of smoke curling from the stoves inside each tent. At least three tents dotted the landscape. Lying low to the ground, Bell peered through his rifle's magnifier, scrutinizing the encampment.
He noted several armed guards – riflemen and archers flanking the perimeter, and swordsmen mingling among them. What struck him as odd was the absence of horns on their heads, the signature signs of demonic race. These people were humans, and no sane human would go to the northern plain. Bell's instincts told him these people might harbor ill intentions. He then saw several military insignia on their clothing, telling a larger story that these were people from the southern coalition.
Bell activated his radio, ensuring a clear connection. "0-1, this is 0-7. Radio check, over," he initiated the transmission.
Lukas's voice came through with clarity and professionalism. "0-7, this is 0-1. Loud and clear. Go ahead, over," he responded.
"0-1, requesting immediate QRF. Grid as follows: 325497. Have eyes on potential hostiles with minors in an encampment. Hostiles are armed, intent unknown. How copy, over?" Bell's communication was crisp and to the point.
"0-7, 0-1 copies all. QRF is on the move. Confirm your grid: 325497. Please advise on the situation, over," Lukas quickly acknowledged, ready for further details.
Bell confirmed his position and the situation with precision. "Grid confirmed: 325497. Approximately ten hostiles, mixed armaments including firearms and edged weapons. No demonic activity detected. I'm in overwatch, northeast of target area. Approach with caution; terrain has limited cover. Stand by for updates, over."
"Copy that, 0-7. Air support en route, ETA 10 minutes. Maintain your position. Approach will be from your north. Keep this channel open for situation reports. 0-1 out."
Bell shifted his position slightly, ensuring he had an unobstructed view of the encampment. He kept his rifle steady, aimed at potential threats, ready to support or respond if the situation escalated before the arrival of the Quick Reaction Force (QRF). Time seemed to drag, each minute stretching out, amplifying the tension in the crisp, icy air. Despite the biting cold, Bell's focus was unwavering, a testament to his rigorous training and extensive experience.
His gaze remained fixed on the encampment, his eyes scanning for any sign of the children. In his mind, he weighed the possibilities: the armed group could either be the kidnappers or reconnaissance units from the southern human coalition. In either case, Bell knew that neutralizing them was imperative for the safety of the northern region.
Observing the encampment, Bell pondered the stark differences in warfare tactics between demons and humans. Demons, like himself, typically relied on rifles and gunpowder, excelling in conventional warfare. Humans, conversely, had adapted to using magical engineering, infusing swords and melee weapons with aetheric powers. This innovation allowed them to compete with, and sometimes surpass, the effectiveness of small firearms.
This distinction was crucial for Bell in identifying the encampment's occupants. The presence of magically enhanced melee weapons was a clear indicator of human forces. In this world, the fusion of ancient weaponry and magic was uniquely human, a strategic adaptation born from their deep integration of magic into warfare. Although firearms remained efficient, demons, who were fewer in number, naturally gravitated towards ranged combat, leveraging their advantage in firepower.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
"Spear 0-7, this is Moore. We're five minutes out. Standing by for your go," Moore's voice broke through the static, a welcome interruption in the tense silence.
Bell inhaled deeply, his breath visible in the frosty air. "Acknowledged, 0-1. I'm in position to provide covering fire if necessary. Hold for my signal," he responded, his voice calm and controlled.
Perched on the overlooking hill, Bell held a strategic vantage point. His keen eyes observed a squad of six soldiers advancing toward the encampment in a tight, spearhead formation. Their rifles were poised, ready for engagement. This air assault team seemed a balanced blend of skill and manpower, a stark contrast to Lisa's smaller, more specialized group.
"Spear 0-7, my team is in position. Awaiting your signal," Moore's voice came again, steady and alert.
The squad hunkered down on the frost-covered ground, their breaths visible in the cold air as they awaited the signal. Their arsenal was a diverse mix, ranging from the standard Heckler & Koch HK416 rifles to the formidable Barrett M107 sniper rifle. Notably, one rifleman even had a grenade launcher attached to the underside of his weapon, ready for heavier engagement.
"Engage!" Bell's command cut through the silence sharply.
"Engaging!" came the immediate response.
In unison, one member of the group conjured a magical shield, enveloping each soldier in a protective bubble as they began their advance toward the encampment. The air was soon filled with the echoing sounds of gunfire, each bullet seeking its target. As the firefight intensified, Bell maintained his position, providing overwatch. His eyes remained sharply focused on the battle below, ready to intervene if necessary.
Through the lens of his scope, Bell observed the Air Assault team, led by Moore, advancing with exceptional tactical precision. The soldiers maneuvered in a fluid, coordinated formation, a testament to their extensive training. The blending of magical shielding with conventional arms exemplified the modern doctrine of warfare in close-range combat, creating an effective synergy between physical and magical defenses.
The encampment, caught completely off guard by the swift and calculated assault, was thrown into disarray. As they attempted to return fire, their efforts were largely futile against the protective magical barriers. From his vantage point, Bell could see the rising panic and confusion among the camp's defenders as they frantically tried to mount a counterattack.
The effectiveness of the Air Assault team's mixed armament became increasingly apparent as the skirmish intensified. The resonating report of the Barrett M107 carried across the snowy landscape, its high-caliber rounds tearing through tents and armor with lethal precision. The grenade launcher contributed to the havoc, hurling flash rounds that stunned and disoriented the defenders, further tipping the scales in favor of Moore's team.
"Keep pushing!" Moore's voice rang out, commanding and clear, urging his team forward as they steadily gained ground against the disorganized defenders.
Bell watched the scene unfold with a hint of grim satisfaction. These were the same people who had unleashed devastation upon his homeland, and now, in a twist of fate, he was part of the force bringing retribution. A small, almost involuntary chuckle escaped him as he observed the chaos below.
The human defenders, now in a state of sheer panic, began to unleash their magical spells in a frantic attempt to stem the assault. Bell's attention was drawn to a female mage who positioned her staff, beginning to conjure a spell. With a calm precision, he aligned the red holographic reticle of his scope on the staff. A gentle squeeze of the trigger, and the 5.56 round shattered the staff's magical conduit, effectively neutralizing the spell and removing the threat of any further magical attacks from her.
Bell's gaze then shifted to another high-value target – a magical archer. The elf's light-colored hair and intricately engraved wooden bow, adorned with magical runes, were telltale signs of his heritage. Without hesitation, Bell aimed at the elf's center mass and fired several rounds. The elf fell instantly, a sign of Bell's lethal efficiency.
As the Air Assault team advanced closer to the encampment, Bell continued to provide critical overwatch, picking off any who attempted to flee. The team's firepower was overwhelming; especially notable were the two machine gunners who wielded their MG4s with devastating effect, laying down a relentless barrage of cover fire.
Even the magical swordsmen, usually formidable in close combat, found themselves outmatched and unable to close the distance under the withering hail of gunfire. The balance of power had decisively shifted in favor of Moore's team, with Bell playing a pivotal role from his overwatch position.
"Moore, it's all clear from here."
"Alright, snatch and grab operation is a go, we'll salvage their equipment and return them to the sell terminals on the outpost. Thank you for the assist, sir, Moore out," Moore said as they salvaged through the tents. One of the group went back and grabbed a vehicle, the vehicle was way smaller than the JLTV, and probably way older as well, beaten up with bullets and dents. How much did Moore spent on the vehicle?
Bell walked downhill, he looked at the encampment, searching for the children. Bell opened the tent one-by-one, searching for the missing children. Eventually, he found the three of them, relatively unharmed with gags on their mouths. That made things way easier.
"0-2, this is 0-7, jackpot."
[After Action Reports: 11 Humans Killed, 1 Elf Killed]
[Total: 60,000 EP and 6,000 EXP]