Tanks

*Hoooonk—* A piercing blast blared from the steam whistle. Roaring, the iron behemoth churned across the wasteland, belching churning plumes of white smoke. Compressed steam within the boiler drove the engine, and the fast-spinning treads ground over the uneven, corpse-strewn barrens. The appearance of these steam tanks gave tremendous encouragement to the imperial soldiers trapped in bitter combat, drawing wave upon wave of cheers from the trenches. "It's the Old Pal-class!" "Thank the heavens!" "I saw them at the military parade! Those are steam tanks—cutting-edge weapons from the Department of Technology!" Massive iron hulls, menacing rams, and thick metal gun barrels—when running at full throttle, they made the earth itself tremble beneath them. These iron behemoths were the ultimate embodiment of the Empire's aesthetic of violence! Faced with these unfamiliar iron contraptions, the demons were somewhat bewildered, yet they still swarmed forward, seeking to tear the Empire's bizarre creations to shreds. Yet the moment those massive rams slammed viciously into the fiends, their fate was already sealed. *Boom—* Amid the engine's roar and demonic shrieks, the steam tank plowed unhesitatingly into the fiendish horde. With barely a jolt to the hull, every demon in its path was crushed into flat, mashed lumps of minced flesh. To make matters far more insidious, the Empire's logisticians had coated the tanks' exterior in holy water specifically to combat these demons of the Abyss. The slightest scrape sent the fiends into agonized howls, scorching their flesh pitch-black. "For the Empire! Crush them!" "Ohohohoho!" The current models of steam tanks were cramped inside, crewed mainly by dwarves, halflings, goblins, and smaller humans. In a behemoth of this scale, there were a full twenty crewmen—a veritable mobile fortress! Take the *Emperor's Wrath*, for example: the first to be built and the one spearheading the charge, whose chief driver was a dragonblood goblin named Bill. Bill smoothly depressed the clutch, shifted gears, and shoved the control lever all the way forward with all his might, cursing viciously, "Dammit, blast them to pieces! I don't want to see a single demon get near our baby! Nobody touches her!" This was the first time these crewmen had seen real combat, yet every maneuver they executed was remarkably adept. After all, they had drilled countless times on the proving grounds just for this day; muscle memory had long since taken over. Witnessing the slaughter of their kind, the dretches and lemures felt terror stir within them, yet they dared not disobey the orders of higher demons—a brand burned deep into the core of their souls. Squawking and howling, they converged from all sides, seeking to overwhelm the iron contraptions with sheer numbers. Lithe, agile babau darted across the ground, attempting to leap onto the hull, while quasits flapped their wings in the air, eager to rip into the outer plating with their talons. "Don't let them close! Die, you bastards!" *D-d-d-d-dat—* *Boom! Boom!* Fierce muzzle flashes erupted from the steam tank's bank of machine gun ports, spewing bullets like a tempest, while secondary cannons belched searing tongues of flame. Instantly, the ground encircling the steam tank was blanketed in gunfire. Within a few breaths, the demons attempting to approach were completely swept away under the saturated barrage. It was plain to see that the steam tank's designer—Marquis Gilmour Sparrow—was a devout disciple of the "Cult of Multi-Turrets." Bursting from the bunkers, more than a dozen of these iron behemoths roared with engines throbbing and steam venting, charging headlong into the demonic ranks and shattering their surging offensive in an instant. Imperial soldiers followed in the wake of the steam tanks, retaking key strategic positions and launching a magnificent counteroffensive against the fiends. Marching over the churned ground and stepping on the mangled, bloody remains of demons, the imperial infantry shouted in triumph. "Charge!" "For the Empire!" The tide turned in an instant, but the retrievers also took notice of these extraordinary iron lumps. Almost in the same breath, the spider monstrosities scraped their mouthparts in chilling screeches. Rearing up on their four hind legs, powerful magical radiance swirled in their compound eyes. *Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt!* Fire, cold, electricity, and petrification—rays of magical energy shot from the retrievers' eyes, streaking toward the steam tanks from different directions. Yet the crew had anticipated this long ago. In the driver's seat, the dragonblood goblin wrestled the levers, turning the tank sideways to present its thickest armor to the front. He cursed violently, practically screeching his command: "Fuck! Move! Activate the antimagic device!" At once, intricate magical runes surfaced across the heavy plating of the steam tank, and several invisible barriers of light enveloped the hull. The magical rays struck the outer barriers and were annihilated on contact. "Deploy the smoke screen! Don't even think you can hurt my baby with that shit spewing from your eyes!" The exhaust vents atop the tank snapped open, spewing churning steam and exhaust fumes to cloak the machine in a smokescreen. Through the shroud of smoke, the massive iron behemoths rolled forward, continually pouring gunfire into their surroundings. Most demons were blown to bits or crushed into pulp by the colossal rams before they even laid eyes on the enemy. In moments, the fiends' offensive was thrown into total disarray by the dozen-plus steam tanks. Flailing about in the smoke like headless flies, they were effortlessly dispatched by the passing tanks. Yet retrievers were far from easy prey. As instruments crafted by demon lords to hunt down traitors, their magical eyes were enchanted with Darkvision, Barrier Penetration, and other effects. Before long, the retrievers locked onto the steam tanks shuttling through the smoke, their eyes gleaming with the predatory glint of hunters sighting their quarry. *Hooowl...* A raspy growl echoed as an elephant-sized retriever leaped into the air, landing square on the iron behemoth's back. Against such a high-tier Abyssal monster, the holy water coated on the tank's surface did little, failing to penetrate its carapace. *Crash!* The steam tank jolted violently as its seemingly indestructible plating dented inward, eliciting alarmed cries from the crew inside. "It jumped on us!" "Keep calm! We still have the emergency defense system!" *Skrrr—* The retriever repeatedly stabbed at the hull with its eight barbed talons, making ear-splitting screeches against the armor plating. The creatures were cunning; they probed for gaps in the armor, thrusting their spear-like leg tips into the seams. *Clang!* Bill barely kept his footing inside the violently rocking chassis. The dragonblood goblin looked up at the claws forcing their way through the seams, pointed at the ceiling, and spat frantic curses: "You goddamned spider freak! Think you can scratch through my baby's impenetrable skin with those claws? Dream on!" With that, the dragonblood goblin even popped a cigar into his mouth. The moment the retriever attempted to rip through the armor, the tank's magitech defense system triggered. Magical circuits embedded inside the armor surged, unleashing blinding arcs of lightning. *Bzzzt—boom!* In a flash, violent lightning enveloped the entire steam tank, and a powerful pulse of energy blasted the retriever off the roof. The massive monstrosity crashed to the ground nearby, sparks of electricity still crackling around its frame. Yet as a creation of a demon lord, its resilience was formidable! The spider monster shakily propped itself up on its eight spindly legs, rising from the dirt with compound eyes burning with hatred. Gathering its strength, the retriever prepared to leap onto the hull again to devour the little people hiding inside the iron contraption. Yet for the soldiers inside the steam tank, those few seconds of gathering power were also their best opportunity. —The opportunity to slay the retriever! The dragonblood goblin spat out a cloud of smoke from his cigar, turning the tank with his clawed hands as he shouted his order: "Now! Blast it to hell with the main gun! "Move! This is our chance!" Almost as Bill spoke, the crew's loaders strained to heave the massive shell into the breech and locked the hatch, while the gunner rapidly cranked the traversing wheel. With a mechanical clatter of gears, the steam tank's never-before-fired main cannon pivoted, aiming straight at the retriever gathering power in front of them. Bill screeched at the top of his lungs: "Send this bastard that dared lay a claw on my beloved baby— "Straight to hell!" *KABOOM!* A thunderous blast erupted alongside thick, choking gunpowder smoke. The entire steam tank lurched backward under the terrifying recoil, cracking the trembling earth and throwing up clouds of dust. Driven by the eruption of high-pressure magitech steam from the boiler, the massive, heavy armor-piercing shell blasted out of the thick barrel at unimaginable speed, punching through the smoke toward the retriever's torso. The moment the AP round impacted the retriever's body— *Crack—* The hard, sharp alloy penetrator easily punched through the retriever's outer carapace, piercing its abdomen and tearing open a massive hole. Immediately after, fragments of shattered shell and the burning penetrator core sprayed through its insides at high velocity, churning its fiendish organs into a shredded mess. Under the tremendous kinetic force, the elephant-sized spider monster was hurled backward through the air. Fragments of shell, purplish-black blood, and bits of visceral organs splattered everywhere. Its mangled, scorched carcass rolled across the dirt several times, twitched, and went still. "Damned spider freak... trying to ruin my baby! Unforgivable! "It might not be dead yet! Let's give it another go!" Staring at the retriever's corpse in the distance, hatred glinted in the dragonblood goblin's beady yellowish eyes. He shoved the control levers with a snarl, driving the steam tank straight over the mangled remains. *Clunk!* The already charred, mangled corpse flattened even further. Still not satisfied, the dragonblood goblin rolled back and forth over it several times—until the remains bore no resemblance to a spider, resembling nothing more than a mashed patty of flesh and crushed shell—before steering the tank away in satisfaction. "For the Emperor!" "For His Majesty Cassius!" "Let these spider freaks witness His Majesty's wrath!" The crew inside the *Emperor's Wrath* erupted into fanatical cheers, driving their tank recklessly into the enemy lines with even greater ferocity. In truth, the design of these steam tanks was highly specialized. As evidenced by the massive ram and the devastating AP main gun, they were engineered specifically to deal with dense swarms of weaker foes or colossal behemoths. And their intended targets were equally clear: the demons of the Abyss. Indeed, these design specifications had been proposed by Cassius himself, and the Cinder Empire had been preparing for them for years. Scenes like this played out across the entire battlefield: steam tanks crashed into the fiendish horde while imperial infantry marched behind them, reclaiming strongpoint after strongpoint in an effective display of infantry-tank coordination. *Boom!* Another earth-shattering blast rang out. Nearby, a retriever's head was blown clean through, spraying rancid brain matter and venom in all directions. Its headless, colossal carcass tumbled down the hillside, crushing several dretches that failed to dodge in time. *Boom! Boom! Boom!* Searing tongues of flame flared from six secondary guns, the smoke and fire virtually engulfing every demon within a hundred-meter radius. Inside the steam tank *Conqueror*, Zhandi Lunyiren shoved the control lever forward, roaring with raucous laughter. "Hahahahaha! "With a godly weapon like this, who needs wheelchair guns?! What 0818, Type 2, Madsen—they're all trash! "In my eyes, this steam tank is the ultimate wheelchair! Long live the Cult of Multi-Turrets!" "Long live the Cult of Multi-Turrets!" Inside the vehicle, the players stared at the experience gains racking up on their panels so fast it was a blur, howling in pure ecstasy. *Roaaar—* In the sky above, however, Abyssal drakes rasped ferocious roars. Flapping ragged, hideous wings, they swept low over the steam tanks and exhaled streams of searing black-red flame. "Holy crap! This thing doesn't have anti-air guns?!" "The designer is a total sadist! Nine secondary guns and not a single anti-aircraft gun!" "No, come on! We finally got our hands on a tank!" *Bang!* An Abyssal drake swooped down violently, latching onto the top of the turret and clawing relentlessly at the steam tank's plating. Zhandi Lunyiren had been having too much fun fooling around earlier, driving straight into the middle of the horde, and the steam tank's built-in electromagnetic pulse had not yet recharged. Relying on the tank's raw power, they had driven far too deep, penetrating hundreds of meters into the demonic lines where even the following infantry could not catch up. Against the Abyssal drake rocking the hull from above, they were virtually helpless. The players began trading blame, directing most of their fire at Zhandi Lunyiren—since he was the one driving. "Zhandi Lunyiren, this is all your fucking fault!" "Yeah, you're absolute trash! You're never sitting in the driver's seat again!" "Go back to your wheelchair guns! I learned one thing today: vehicles are strictly for the pros!" "Damn it, this is private property of our Machine Cult! We paid a fortune for it!" The players completely forgot how passionately they had screamed "charge" just moments ago, dumping all the blame squarely on Zhandi Lunyiren. *Roaaar—* A resounding roar suddenly echoed across the heavens. Unlike the piercing shrieks of the Abyssal fiends, this sound was deep and sonorous. "That's..." "Holy shit! We're saved!" As if catching a glimmer of dawn, the players inside the tank scrambled to peer through the observation periscope. High above, a crimson tide formed of wyverns and flame drakes emerged from the battlefield's flank. It was the dragon host of the Cinder Empire! At the vanguard, Alger raised the Everburning Greatsword high and bellowed his command: "In the name of His Majesty Cassius! In the name of the Cinder Empire— "Redscale Conquerors, charge!" *Roaaar—* Carrying a blistering gale and accompanied by the earth-shattering battle cries of dragons and riders, the crimson torrent surged downward, crashing into the battlefield from the flank.