Modern Weapons Cheat In Another World Kai

Sengoku Yōhei

Southwest of the Forest of No Return
1920 hours, Days in-country: 1

Twenty kilometers. They came here swinging into action and speed, and now they can't even cover half of that, thanks to a pumpkin.

Kazuya grabbed hold as the M44 bounced through the road, scanning the hills rumpled around the narrow road leaving Queldur Basin, the land thriving in fertile soil with the Forest of No Return at the edge. The valley beyond seemed to swallow them whole, just as it swallows the monsters that will roll down the whole basin.

So this is what it feels like to be in Afghanistan.

Moving up to the ever-squeezing valley wasn't that bad. Besides any fancy rock cliffs or ravines leading toward Mazar, it's bad enough the geography got them trucking through the Hindu Kush. Now they got to worry about giant armadillos or a somehow non-extinct animal with questionable physical characteristics regarding momentum with the maniacal tendencies of Hollywood's cannibals and shirtless Vikings.

He swiveled the M2, pointing to the top of the hill across the river, but as the ridge got taller, Kazuya brought out his AK-47 on his sling, sponsored by your friendly neighborhood bugs. Nevertheless, he's seen this one before. Both in the news and the movie, and he's confident nobody wants a Combat Outpost here named for falling down the wrong way and fuck the new guys over.

"Sun's getting real low, Captain."

Relatively. Forget metaphors. It did swallow them whole into darkness. Yet the onna-musha showed no sense of concern or air of anything, something akin to a sixth sense, that you know it's getting serious. Hopefully, it's that.

"We are almost there, Mister Nagato. You can already make out the base of the hill I've mentioned. That's where the abandoned village lies."

As the convoy traversed the tiny road by the riverside, the APC dipped into the road, and his chest smooched the M2's handles.

"God– Fuck!" he banged the APC's roof. "Convoy Stop!"

Aoba's voice echoed, relaying the order. The M44's engine growled and barely pendulum back and forth, driving it into facing the hill to their left and skidding close to the river. Captain Phyllis spurred her horse forward and looked down at the front of the APC.

"The road has collapsed!"

The driver popped open his hatch and looked down. "Yep. That's a nasty one — left track sank."

Kazuya dropped down. The kids' guardians bunched together and whispered calmness.

"Is anyone hurt?" a few shook their heads while the rest shrunk into their piles. "Alright, everyone out from the side door! Aoba, lead them out. Katayama, get the vic ready up ahead to tow us!"

"Understood!"

Then he climbed out from the hatch. "Captain, you have your job to do, right? Go on ahead. We'll deal with this ourselves."

"Of course," she turned to the warhorses and carriages and waved them through. "We'll have one of our mages remain to help repair the road."

"I appreciate that."

As they cleared from the vehicles and the towing cables tied in place, the mages waved their staffs. Chunks of rocks around them levitated. The mages directed their stave to the front end of the track and patched the road. No, patching might not be the correct term; more like holding it still. Whatever it was, as the engines groaned, the M44 got back on the road, and the mages filled the crevices with dirt.

The local fauna hasn't the common courtesy of sparing what's left of the standing huts inside the godforsaken valley. It'll be a tight squeeze for the vehicles. The last travelers did leave some firewood for them. How generous. The original inhabitants, not so much. Claw marks vandalized the clay of what was once a window, some pieces of it left littering the ground; The rolling seasons were not fair to the naked ceilings where bundles of straws made up the roofs.