I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World-Chapter 125: Learning How to Drive Part 2

The roar of engines echoed across the clearing like thunder trapped in a valley. Dust clouds rose behind the armored wheels as one JLTV after another tore through the practice course. Morning had turned to noon, and the field was no longer quiet—it was alive with motion, noise, and nervous excitement.

"Easy on the wheel!" Lyra shouted as Meryl jerked the JLTV hard to the right. The vehicle wobbled but didn’t tip.

"I am!" Meryl snapped back, her hands clenched white around the steering wheel. "It’s like steering a mountain!"

"Mountains don’t respond to commands," Lyra replied dryly. "This one does. Just not if you strangle it."

They reached the final marker cone and came to a stop, albeit a rough one. The front tires skidded across the grass before Meryl found the brake.

She let out a long breath and slumped in her seat. "That was terrifying."

"But you didn’t crash," Lyra said, patting her on the shoulder. "That’s a win."

From the side of the field, Inigo waved. "Next pair!"

Meryl clambered out of the driver’s seat like it was a siege tower, panting as if she’d run a mile. Sark and Hal were already walking over, Hal adjusting his gloves, Sark grinning with barely contained excitement.

"I want to see what this thing can do," Sark said, running a hand along the JLTV’s hood. "Bet it can knock over a tree."

"No knocking over trees," Inigo warned him, handing over the keys. "These aren’t battering rams. They’re precision tools."

Sark’s grin widened. "So... finesse battering rams."

Hal chuckled as they both climbed in. Inigo stood at the side window and gave instructions as they started the engine.

"Remember what I said. Accelerator is light. Steer into the turn, don’t fight it. Brake early, not late."

Sark revved the engine too hard at first, and the JLTV lurched forward like an angry ox. The recruits on the sidelines winced. Lyra shook her head.

"He’s going to take out half the cones," she muttered.

"Three at most," Brenna said, arms crossed. "Four if the wind shifts."

Sark drove like he fought—with brute force and no fear. The JLTV thundered through the field, bouncing over the edge of the course and barely clipping a cone. Hal shouted something from the passenger side, laughing all the way.

When they finished the loop and pulled back in, the tires were caked in mud.

Sark leapt down with pride. "That thing’s got teeth!"

"And you almost drove it into a tree," Hal added.

"Almost. That’s the important part." frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Inigo gave them both a long look, then nodded. "Next time, slower entry, sharper turns. But you didn’t stall. Good."

He turned to the rest of the trainees gathered around the edge of the field.

"By nightfall, every one of you will have taken the wheel. You’ll know what it feels like to control something bigger than yourself. Because when we deploy, you won’t be marching into hell—you’ll be driving."

Lio stepped up next, his helmet slightly askew. "I think I’m ready."

Inigo handed him the key and gestured to the second JLTV, where Lyra had climbed in to act as co-driver. "You’ll take the long loop. Through the uneven terrain. Let’s see how you handle the bounce."

Lio swallowed but nodded. "Yes, sir."

He started the engine. It roared to life.

The long loop wound behind the main clearing and dipped down toward a muddy bank before curving back uphill. It was a longer route, and more punishing.

Lio moved carefully at first. Too carefully.

"You’re letting the terrain control you," Lyra warned from the side. "Trust the machine. It can handle more than you think."

He glanced at her, then leaned into the accelerator.

The JLTV surged forward, bounding over the mud patch and climbing the hill with a growl. The vehicle rocked, and Lio tightened his grip—but this time he didn’t flinch.

They returned from the far end, dust trailing behind them.

As he parked near the others and turned off the engine, Lio sat still for a moment, breathing heavily.

"I didn’t think I could do that," he said quietly.

"But you did," Lyra replied. "And that’s the point."

By late afternoon, the field was streaked with tire marks, crushed grass, and scattered cones. The air smelled of diesel and churned earth. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows behind the two JLTVs, now parked side by side.

The recruits sat on overturned crates, drinking from canteens, their uniforms stained with dust and sweat.

"I never thought I’d say it," Brenna said, "but I think I like machines."

"They’re loud," Meryl added. "Loud, stupid, and heavy. But... they listen."

Sark grinned. "I want one for myself."

"You’ll drive it when I say you drive it," Inigo called from nearby.

He was crouched near one of the tires, inspecting a loosened bolt. Lyra handed him a toolkit without needing to be asked.

"You think they’ll be ready to use them in an actual operation?" she asked under her breath.

"They’re learning faster than I expected," he replied, tightening the bolt. "Still clumsy. Still green. But they’re not afraid anymore."

"Fear’s not the problem," Lyra muttered. "Overconfidence will be."

Inigo stood, wiping grease from his fingers. He turned back to the group.

"Listen up."

The chatter died down.

"Today was movement. Tomorrow, we begin firing from the JLTVs. You’ll learn how to shoot while bouncing through uneven ground. You’ll learn to reload while the engine’s screaming in your ears. You’ll learn to give commands from the back seat while watching the road ahead. These are your legs now. Learn to use them."

The fire was lit early that evening. The sun had barely dipped below the trees when the first logs crackled. The JLTVs sat like watchful sentinels on the edge of camp, their engines now silent, their presence undeniable.

The recruits ate in near silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"I get it now," Hal said at last. "We’re not just learning to fight. We’re learning to move like an army."

Inigo stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the firelight flicker across the steel surfaces of the machines he had summoned.

Lyra sat beside him, her legs stretched out, boots caked in dust.

"They’ll still make mistakes," she said.

"They’ll make better ones," he replied.

She smiled faintly. "I suppose that’s progress."

Inigo nodded.

The flames crackled. A soft breeze passed through the trees.

And as night fell over the field, the sounds of engines echoed no more—but their presence remained. In every heartbeat. In every breath.

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