I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World-Chapter 90: The Next Day Trip, Already Encountered Trouble Part 1

The road had narrowed into a dirt trail hemmed in by jagged rocks and gnarled trees. The MRAP rumbled forward, its reinforced frame bouncing gently with each uneven dip in the path. Dust curled in the vehicle’s wake, hanging in the still afternoon air like smoke. Inigo sat behind the wheel, eyes scanning the terrain ahead while the others sat in quiet alertness.

Korrik, ever watchful, muttered, "Too quiet."

Arienne opened her eyes from meditation. "There’s something in the air. I feel interference... magical. Distorted."

Lyra, bow resting on her lap, glanced out the narrow window. "And unnatural silence. Not even birds."

That’s when the first arrow struck.

It didn’t hit the MRAP—but thunked into a nearby tree trunk ahead, quivering with unnatural force.

Inigo immediately slammed the brakes, the MRAP grinding to a sudden halt. "Ambush!" he barked, already reaching for his Desert Eagle sidearm. "Everyone out! Shields up!"

The team scrambled out of the vehicle, slamming the armored doors behind them. Lyra rolled into the underbrush, drawing her bow in a single motion. Arienne whispered an incantation under her breath, her robes flaring with golden light. Korrik lifted his massive tower shield, planting his feet firmly like a bulwark of steel and flesh.

From the tree line, shadows moved. Dozens.

"Bandits!" Lyra hissed. "A lot of them. Too organized to be simple highway scum."

Arienne raised her staff. "They’re enchanted. I see mana threads. Someone’s controlling them."

"Figures," Inigo muttered. "Can’t just get a regular robbery out here. Always magic crap."

A chorus of war cries erupted from the hills as over thirty bandits surged forward. They wore patchwork armor—leather, rusted steel, scraps of plate—and wielded mismatched weapons ranging from curved swords to longspears. Some even held magical artifacts glowing faintly.

"I count at least six ranged units on the left slope," Lyra reported. "Eight more flanking from the right."

Inigo looked at Korrik and Arienne. "You two wanted a test run, right?"

Korrik grinned like a man offered a tavern brawl. "Hell yes."

"Just don’t die," Lyra added, nocking an arrow.

"Let’s see what they’ve got," Inigo said, raising his gun. "We’ll hold the left. Korrik, take center. Arienne, deal with the mages if there are any. Move!"

The battlefield erupted into motion.

Korrik charged forward like a battering ram, shield raised high. An incoming volley of arrows deflected harmlessly off its surface as he smashed into the first wave of melee attackers. His axe spun in heavy, arcing slashes, carving two bandits down before they could react.

Arienne lifted her staff, and shimmering symbols spiraled from her palms. A pulse of holy energy radiated outward, knocking back several enemies and searing others with bursts of radiant fire. Her calm expression remained unchanged, even as another volley came her way—her shield spell flaring to absorb the impact.

Meanwhile, Lyra was a blur among the trees. Her arrows whistled through the air with lethal precision. Each shot found a throat, an eye, or a vulnerable joint in armor. She danced between roots and stone, always moving, never letting herself be pinned down.

Inigo advanced carefully along the left slope, firing his Desert Eagle with deliberate aim. Every shot exploded like thunder, the large-caliber rounds punching clean through armor and dropping enemies instantly. One bandit raised a magic barrier—Inigo aimed for his leg instead. The man screamed and dropped, writhing.

More kept coming.

"Thirty’s an understatement," Korrik bellowed. "They’re still spilling out of the forest!"

Arienne pointed her staff to the treetops. "I see the source. There’s a summoner—top of the ridge!"

Inigo squinted up and saw a hooded figure standing with outstretched arms, dark energy pulsing around his hands. "Great. A necromancer-looking bastard."

"Want me to take the shot?" Lyra asked from the left.

"No," Inigo said, reloading his mag. "I want to see what you all can do first."

He ducked behind a rock as a wave of green fire exploded near him.

Korrik braced as three enemies tried to surround him. One lunged, but the Bastion twisted and rammed the man into a tree. Another bandit brought down a sword overhead, but Korrik’s shield met it mid-air with a deafening clang. He responded by driving his axe into the man’s ribs.

"I can do this all day!" he roared.

"Then do it faster!" Lyra yelled, loosing two arrows that skewered a dual-wielding attacker sneaking behind Arienne.

Arienne, for her part, now floated an inch off the ground. Her body glowed as more symbols circled her. She chanted a phrase and snapped her fingers. A magic sigil appeared beneath several bandits—and exploded upward in a geyser of light, launching them into the air like ragdolls.

"They’re thinning," she said calmly.

"No," Inigo said, catching his breath. "They’re preparing a second wave."

He pointed at the trees beyond. Dozens more figures emerged—some on horseback, others with magical gear. This wasn’t just a random ambush.

"This is an organized mercenary band," Inigo muttered. "Shit. Someone sent them."

Korrik was panting now, armor dented but holding. "We can’t hold much longer without burning through everything."

Lyra appeared next to Inigo, her quiver already half-empty. "Then maybe it’s time we show them what real adventurers look like."

Inigo smirked. "Let’s send a message."

He raised his hand to the air—and tapped his system interface.

"Cover your ears," he warned.

Inigo smirked as the interface flickered in his vision, the faint glow of the system prompt hovering over his retina. A quick flick through the inventory menu, and he tapped a glowing icon with practiced precision.

[M67 Fragmentation Grenade – Confirm Purchase?]

He selected [Yes].

A shimmering glow materialized in his palm—a matte green metal sphere with a pin and spoon. The M67 grenade felt warm from the system transfer, but otherwise solid and deadly. Inigo crouched low behind the boulder and pulled the pin with his teeth.

"Fire in the hole!" he shouted.

He lobbed the grenade high, the arc clean and perfect as it sailed over the ridgeline where the second wave was gathering. A cluster of enemy fighters had grouped near a tree stump, likely preparing to charge down with spears and spells.

The grenade landed at their feet.

BOOM!

The explosion rocked the hillside, sending a shockwave through the forest. A flash of fire and smoke erupted, and several figures were hurled backward like dolls, limbs twisted, armor shredded. A few managed to scream. Most didn’t.

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