I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World-Chapter 84: The Battle Outside Part 2

The smoke thickened.

Despite the roaring fire from his barrels, despite the shouts and spells from defenders, the mist continued to creep through the cracks—twisting between broken walls, slipping past ruined barricades, and clawing into the hearts of those too slow or too afraid to move.

Inigo’s boots pounded across the blood-slick street as he moved forward, laying down suppressive fire. The minigun’s scream never let up. Each round carved through the writhing horde, limbs exploding, ichor gushing.

And yet—it was like shooting into water. Every space he cleared filled back in within seconds.

Then came the pulse.

A silent wave, not heard, but felt.

It slammed into Inigo’s chest like a hammer made of thought. His vision warped. The buildings around him twisted. The colors inverted.

He blinked—and found himself alone.

No demons.

No defenders.

Just an empty street drenched in colorless fog.

"What the hell?" he whispered, lowering the minigun.

Behind him, footsteps.

He spun.

Lyra stood there. Her apron was torn. Her face pale.

"Inigo..." she said, voice distant. "You left me."

He froze. "What? No—I sent you with the others. You guided them out. I saw you—"

"You abandoned me," she said, eyes darkening. "Just like everyone else. Just like your world."

A flicker in the air. Her form distorted.

This wasn’t real.

His hand snapped up and fired a round into her chest.

She exploded into smoke.

"An illusion," he breathed. "The heck is going on here?"

From the mist ahead, a shape formed.

Tall. Slender. Shimmering like glass wrapped in oil.

Its face was veiled, indistinct. One moment male, another female. One second old, the next childlike.

"You do not belong," the figure said, voice multilayered and slow.

Inigo didn’t answer. He spun the barrels again.

The minigun lit up—and the figure vanished before the rounds struck.

From the sides, more shadows formed.

Demons.

But these were different.

They moved like puppets. Their limbs twitching unnaturally, their heads jerking side to side like broken marionettes. And above them—strings of smoke.

"Someone’s controlling them," Inigo muttered. "Like they’re on a stage."

He swept the gun sideways and fired.

The bullets carved through the marionette-demons with brutal force, snapping their limbs, cutting strings. They fell—but again, no blood. Just silence and smoke.

From above, a shriek.

He blinked upward just in time to dodge a descending blur.

The rooftop cracked as a creature landed—an ape-like demon with six arms and a mouth that opened vertically across its face.

Inigo tossed the minigun onto his shoulder rig and pulled his pistols mid-roll.

Two shots.

One to the head.

The creature twitched—then laughed.

The bullet hole closed.

It lunged.

Inigo ducked under its swing, slid between its legs, and unloaded a full magazine into its spine.

Nothing.

He gritted his teeth. "That’s tough. Looks like I need to enchant some bullets."

The pistols glowed with runes. The next bullet burst into radiant silver mid-flight.

This time, when it struck the ape-thing’s back, it howled—burning.

Inigo vaulted up and fired again, hitting its neck, its shoulders, its skull.

With a final screech, it dissolved.

Back into mist.

The illusion pulsed again.

And the voice returned.

"You’re not like the others."

"Damn right," Inigo muttered. "I’m worse."

He reloaded and turned toward the heart of the mist. He could feel it now—a presence deeper in.

Maybe it was the one causing the illusions.

Maybe it was the one that sent those people mad.

Maybe it was the one watching from the shadows of his mind.

Whatever it was—it had to die.

He stomped forward through the fog. Behind him, other adventurers rallied—those who’d survived the mental assault. Mages clung to each other for grounding. Warriors shouted and charged.

Inigo didn’t wait.

He stepped into the deepest part of the mist—and vanished from their view.

The illusion realm thickened.

Now, memories bled in from his old world.

Rain on pavement.

Flashing lights of a city skyline.

The distant echo of gunshots—not from battle—but from a broken home.

"Inigo..." a voice whispered.

He didn’t falter.

He shoved through it.

Fired blindly into the mist.

Again.

Again.

And then, at last—

The fog parted.

And there, seated on a throne made of fractured mirrors, was the source.

Not a demon in the usual sense.

A woman—or something that wore her form.

Eyes like galaxies. Skin like pearl dust. Hair that flowed upward into the mist.

She smiled.

"You pierced my veil."

Inigo raised both pistols.

"I’m going to do more than that."

She lifted a hand—and the world twisted.

The ground shattered. The sky turned to stained glass. Buildings folded into cubes and floated upward.

His feet found no purchase—he was weightless, falling, rising, spinning.

"What the fuck!"

She walked through the broken space as if it were nothing.

"You think bullets matter here?" she asked gently.

Inigo didn’t answer. He focused his aim and fired both pistols.

She raised a finger.

The bullets curved mid-air—spiraling off course. fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

"Cute trick," Inigo muttered.

He dropped the pistols.

And pulled the minigun.

Again.

The barrels spun.

The illusion shimmered.

She frowned.

The bullets screamed forward.

Not at her—but at the mirror throne.

It shattered—exploding into shards that sprayed outward like glass rain.

The space rippled.

Her form flickered.

"You—!"

"I don’t care who or what you are," Inigo said. "But you don’t get to turn my world into a nightmare."

He fired again—this time, point-blank.

Her body dissolved into light.

And the world collapsed.

The illusion broke.

Inigo fell—literally—back into reality.

He landed hard in the middle of the ruined street, coughing smoke and blood. The mist was thinning. The screams were fading.

The breach had held.

Barely.

But the illusion was gone.

For now.

Inigo stood slowly, smoke trailing from the spinning barrels.

Behind him, the survivors rallied.

The city hadn’t fallen.

But it had come close.

"Inigo!"

Lyra called, arriving at the battlefield. She then noticed the weapon he was wielding.

"New weapon?"

"Yeah, new weapon," Inigo confirmed. "Shit, I don’t know where I have been but I was inside an illusion earlier."

"Illusion?"

Inigo nodded his head. "Anyways, the battle hasn’t ended so just in time for you to join."

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