I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World-Chapter 113: The Final Blow

Inigo’s back slammed against the obsidian floor. The echo rang for miles—if space here even followed normal rules anymore. Dazed, he blinked and rolled onto his side, clutching his M4 like a lifeline.

The figure on the throne hadn’t moved since proclaiming itself as the Rift. It stood like a living shadow—humanoid only in shape, wrapped in layers of shimmering darkness and twisted symbols.

"Are you alright?" Lyra called from a few feet away, her voice breathless.

"Define alright," Inigo muttered, staggering to his feet.

The battlefield was impossible. Shifting terrain, spiraling light, floating platforms that rose and fell with no pattern. Magic warped the very laws of gravity. He’d fought things—many things—but nothing like this.

He activated his freedom shop system.

"Time to bring in the big guns."

He flicked through the Shop’s categories. Rifles, grenades, ballistic shields... too weak. He needed something absurd.

There.

[Abrams M1A2 SEPV3 Main Battle Tank – Cost: 45,000 Token]

He checked his balance.

[Balance: 239,842 Tokens]

Just enough.

He didn’t hesitate.

[CONFIRM PURCHASE?]

He slammed the mental button.

[Current balance: 194,842 Tokens]

He slammed the mental button.

A blinding white circle formed in front of him, expanding outward with a loud, humming boom. The sound of machinery thundered like a god approaching. From the heart of the summoning ring, an enormous black form emerged, rising from the ground like a summoned beast.

The Abrams tank slammed into the battlefield with a thud that cracked the very glass-like terrain.

Lyra stumbled back, shielding her eyes. "What in the everliving hell is that?!"

Inigo grinned, breathless from adrenaline. "This?" He climbed up the side of the tank. "This is one of the strongest weapons from my hometown."

It looked fresh out of a warzone—mounted with a 120mm smoothbore cannon, coaxial machine guns, reactive armor plates, and custom HUD screens glowing faintly. But this model was different. The Freedom Shop had given it a special tag:

[MODIFIED FOR SOLO OPERATION – COMBAT AI ASSIST ENABLED]

He dropped into the driver’s seat and found everything—every dial, every lever—made sense. Like he’d trained with it for years. Some interface flashed across his vision, embedding data into his brain: targeting, elevation control, autoloader toggle, manual override.

He gripped the joystick and felt power.

The monstrous entity had started to move, gliding slowly across the obsidian field. Spires rose from the ground like teeth, trying to wall off the tank.

Inigo aimed the turret.

Lyra took cover behind a hovering shard of terrain. "You seriously plan to shoot that with that?!"

"Hell yes."

The Abrams’ targeting HUD locked onto the figure.

"Let’s see how you like American steel."

He fired.

The cannon belched fire. The entire tank rocked from the recoil. The 120mm round streaked toward the entity—glowing orange like a comet.

It struck the Rift in the side.

A geyser of black ink and fire erupted from its torso. The creature staggered—not falling, but clearly wounded.

"Oh my gods," Lyra whispered.

Inigo didn’t wait. "Reload."

The AI complied instantly.

[Round Loaded: APFSDS]

"Eat this."

Another round blasted forth. This time the Rift warped space around it, trying to deflect the shell—but it wasn’t fast enough. The shot punched through one of the floating symbols behind its head, shattering it like glass.

The battlefield rippled. The sky above dimmed for a moment.

The monster roared—not like a beast, but like a collapsing universe. Its symbols reconfigured rapidly, casting spells of madness and force.

Inigo saw the wave coming—reality itself bent toward the tank.

He slammed the pedal.

The Abrams lurched forward, crushing glass terrain under its treads. He swerved between floating debris, dodging blades of light and bolts of distortion magic. It was like dodging lightning in a thunderstorm—but the tank was absurdly fast for its size.

Lyra sprinted after it, ducking for cover. She loosed arrows at the Rift, trying to distract it, her face still twisted in disbelief.

"You’re piloting that thing like it’s a horse!" she shouted.

"Guess I’m a fast learner!" he yelled back.

Another cannon blast. This one hit the ground beneath the Rift’s feet, blasting it into the air. Inigo switched to the machine gun turret and opened fire. Tracer rounds peppered the air, bouncing off magical shields but disrupting them all the same.

"Your shields are cracking," he muttered. "One more..."

The monster recovered, launching a barrage of spikes made from crystallized illusions. They rained down like missiles.

The tank’s AI activated its defensive system.

[Deploying: Multi-Spectral Smoke Screen]

Inigo’s vision went white. The cockpit filled with sensor data instead of visuals. He used IR to locate the Rift.

There—closing in.

"Let’s see you eat this."

He activated the HEAT round.

The barrel adjusted for elevation. He fired again.

This time, the round struck dead center.

The explosion that followed was like a miniature sun. The Rift screamed. Pieces of it scattered across the battlefield, evaporating into arcs of corrupted energy.

But it wasn’t dead.

No. Something was still moving within the smoke. A smaller, leaner shape. The armor was gone. The symbols were stripped. But it still stood—its mask now cracked, exposing a half-human face underneath.

"You are persistent," the being said, coughing out black ichor.

Inigo climbed out of the tank, rifle in hand.

"You’re still standing?" he asked grimly.

"I am the Rift," it spat. "You cannot kill what you stand inside."

Inigo walked toward it, gun raised. "Then I’ll tear it apart from within."

Lyra appeared beside him, panting, bloodied but still upright. "We’re with you."

The rounds struck true.

The M4’s bursts hammered into the creature’s exposed core. With each hit, its form shimmered like water disturbed by stones, cracks of light spidering across its chest. Lyra’s final arrow whistled through the air, glowing with runic energy. It pierced the creature’s throat.

The monster screamed in agony.

Its body twisted. Space warped, the floor cracking beneath it as the monster’s form began to collapse. One last gasp—one last flicker of defiance—and then it imploded into a shockwave of light.

Silence fell.

Then, a soft hum.

A portal opened.

This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶