Trapped in Another World With No Magic-Chapter 150: Devil of the Wood

Field Marshal Klur is a goblin who grew up in as stable of an environment as a typical social goblin might, like the Queens Shek and Skloe. He was still kicked around by the taller races and drafted for combat against the east. His chances of seeing his home again were low, and when the Harbinger of Calamity rose to power, he felt his days were even shorter.

Now, he is riding in the carriage with the survivors rescued from the dumgob, or feral goblin, burrow. They are exhausted and fearful, wrapped in blankets provided by the soldiers of Grendel 6 as most of them sleep.

In total, there were twenty two survivors, ranging from children to adults, mostly female, since even most goblins can fight the women and children of most races with minimal risk.

There is a young human girl, who was the first one found upon discovering the burrow, and she is still wearing the Field Marshal’s grey mantle as a blanket while she sleeps with her head leaning on his shoulder. The middle carriage is effectively a dummy carriage as part of the bait to lure out the dumgobs, so it is normal in every way except that it was built in a hurry and with materials the Fievegal didn’t need. It’s not comfortable, but it’s better than making these weary and exhausted souls walk.

For now, the near-silent electric motor is driving the iron buckrokh, a disguised tank pulling the two dummy carriages behind.

Klur studies the young human girl, who is only a hair shorter than he is due to her age. Klur was the first one to comfort her when she was rescued, providing his mantle as a sort of protection, something that the goblin field commander wouldn’t have come up with on his own. The Human Emperor regularly gives his own belongings to his daughters and sons to reassure them, and it quickly pacifies them when all else seems to fail.

“M-Mister Goblin…?” asks the Uhl’tall woman that was found in the prisoner room.

Klur looks at her, asking as respectfully as he can, “Need something?”

She hesitates, shrugging into her blanket. “I… What will be happening to us now?”

Klur shifts only a little, trying not to disrupt the human girl. “As I briefly say, we will head to Citadel. Emperor and Empresses order to provide new home or take to home.”

She absorbs his words, since he knows that he is still not fully proficient at speaking any of the common languages between demon-kin, let alone the eastern trade language Daniel favors.

“S-So… w-will we be… slaves?” asks one of the other women who appeared to be asleep.

“No. No slaves. As goblin given great honor by Fievegal, Klur encourage to stay in Fievegal, but Emperor want know you can go home. If want.”

“What if…?”

“Klur apologize. Klur know very little of future. Mission to kill dumgob raiders and save prisoners.” He looks at the third carriage, which has the captured feral goblins, mostly consisting of children and goblin women to be offered the chance to redeem themselves and become functional members of society, so far as Klur knows. Given what he has seen, as well as some of the soldiers in his very own Grendel 6 unit, anyone can be redeemed if they choose to walk the right path.

The women look down, a little disappointed that he can’t answer their questions. He’d like to, but he simply doesn’t know enough.

Suddenly a whistle catches Klur’s attention. He can see the dattakoriens perk up and listen intently as well.

A second, tone-changing whistle tells Klur what he needs. The scouts have discovered a threat.

Klur stands up, which jolts the girl awake. But, he can’t focus on that now. “Grendel Six! Contact! To stations! Free the Titanslayer!”

The last word startles those who were paying attention among the former captives. The goblins guarding the refugees start jumping off of the carriage as Klur explains, “Stay in carriage. We can only protect know where to concentrate defense. Trust or you die.” He gets some frightened nods as the women huddle together, and he buckles his helmet’s chin strap back down. “Grendel 6! Defend carriage train! Titanslayer, check targets carefully!”

Klur receives confirmation of his commands, and several soldiers run up to the sides of the tank, pulling safety pins and jumping out of the way of the sides, which drop the disguise panels off of the sides of the tank, revealing the iron-hull of the Harbinger’s iron buckrokh prototype.

The main engine roars to life, startling the women as steam starts rising out of the top vents. The turret turns to the right as a soldier out front guides them to which direction the threat is coming from; slightly to the right of the forward path while goblins quickly remove the panels from the rear so they don’t block the rear carriages if they have to take off. The panels for the disguise are simply made out of stretched canvas and wooden frames, or wooden planks. They were intended to be disposable in case they needed the full capabilities of the tank as quickly as possible, or to flee at full speed. The iron buckrokh can flee faster than an unladen buckrokh at full speed, though they’ll have to be mindful of the carriages in the current mission.

That means, they have to stand and fight or make slow progress while defending to keep the footsoldiers safe.

The staccato of submachine gun fire echoes out through the forest in bursts, while goblins begin shouting. The flashes illuminate the underside of the forest being claimed by the setting sun yielding to night time.

Briefly shown while firing is a monstrous jawline full of teeth as a creature lets out a loud roar.

“Drake!” shouts Klur as others do the same.

While the goblins in the area keep firing, Locke climbs onto the side of the tank, deftly scrambling up the side to the top of the main hull. He opens the rear tool bay where two heavier rifles are stored. They’re too much for goblins to use in combat, but Neith recommended Grendel 6 bring a couple for emergencies.

The hatch on top of the tank opens as the tank commander surveys the battle. He calls out directions into the vehicle as the turret adjusts.

Because communication devices are still in development, the commander pulls and releases a lever at his station three times, which blares a loud horn in time with the action. The goblins in a wide arc of the firing line scatter, and the drake bellows.

Shek and Skloe are fairly down to earth for rulers in such lofty positions, and Klur has heard it from them himself; the two goblin queens met Daniel after he defeated a drake and the Red Knight singlehandedly.

“Aim for body mass, not the head!” calls out Klur.

The commander signals an affirmative with his hand, and just as the drake inhales, a blast of fire and smoke bursts forth from the barrel of the tank’s 50mm cannon, which is much smaller than the iron drakes, but the shells are more manageable for goblins to use.

The tank jolts from the recoil, rocking back and forth on its tracks. Within seconds, the drake shrieks as most of it rolls violently to the side, clawing wildly.

Its left claw is left behind on the ground, and blood pours out of its shoulder in a messy spray.

The women in the carriage are crying, while Locke scans the woods using the scope on the rifle he withdrew. He has to use the bipod because of the length and weight, and he has to be mindful if the turret turns all the way around, but it shouldn’t because the carriages would be in the line of fire.

“Commander, begin advance! Teams-...!”

A new roar fills the forest from the other side. However, this one isn’t a drake. It has a tone that exceeds the drake and the tank cannon, and hearing it fills Klur with an instinctual dread that he can’t place. To his knowledge, he has never heard this sound before, but it’s like his body knows the danger it poses.

No, his soul knows it.

Something ancient and evil has been awakened.

“Regroup!” shouts Klur. “Prepare to evacuate!”

The turret swings to the left as birds caw all around, raising the volume from silent to near chaos. The Field Marshal readies his weapon towards the origin of the sounds, towards the left side deep into the forest.

The goblins of Grendel 6 return to the carriages, climbing onto all three vehicles as they prepare to run, even as the tank creeps forward.

Pitch black birds erupt from the tree line to the left, cawing and screeching relentlessly.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!” shouts Klur, immediately squeezing his own machine gun’s trigger in bursts, joined by the other soldiers.

Avian devils fall in nearly as great of numbers as the bullets being sent forth, swooping towards the carriages as the goblins do their best to fight. The covers of the rear two carriages provide almost no protection, as the birds have no sense of self-preservation and spear through the canvas to try to attack the people within.

The non-combatants cry out in fear and pain, and the goblins desperately try to fight off the airborne assault.

Klur checks for hand gestures from the squad leaders, and he gets confirmation that everyone is on board. He signals to the tank commander, who quickly ducks down into the tank.

The engine bellows as the tank accelerates, and the carriages jolt a little at the increased speed.

Thankfully, the decoy buckrokhs serve a purpose, as many of the birds try to attack the tank and the wooden dummies, breaking their own necks and flopping to the ground all over the place. They seem to be attacking the means of mobility intentionally, and Klur can feel a foulness in the air.

A deep boom rumbles through the ground deep in the forest, and the sounds of trees cracking and crashing down fills the forest, joining the chaotic chorus of birds cackling and wailing.

The tank’s turret aims upwards, and it suddenly booms as it spits fire and smoke. A large swath of the birds fall in response; an anti-wyvern round. It’s meant to increase the chances of hitting wyverns, but with how thickly crowded the airspace around them is with the ravens, it easily takes out dozens of them with the oversized scattering of projectiles. Daniel calls it a ‘shotgun’ or ‘scattergun’ design, and it’s the only such weapon that they have on hand.

Another boom follows the first, and it’s making the dread increase in Klur’s body. It’s taking a lot of focus for him and the others to stay in the carriages, which are bumping and bouncing with the speed of the tank pulling them forward. They are at the mercy of the tracked vehicle, and the only thing keeping them from driving off course too much are the divots created by the heavy vehicle’s path.

The booming gets closer and closer, picking up speed as the beast bellows again, and the birds seem only somewhat to have been cut down in numbers by the massive amount of ammunition being quickly expended.

The trees start shaking and falling in a diagonal behind and to the left of the carriage train.

Klur is hit by one of the ravens torpedoing into him, and he shouts in anger as he flops down to his left hand from his kneeling position, thrown off balance by the impact. He has too many things to think about, and it’s much different than a frontal assault or ambush.

However, the giant monster is behind them, and the turret will be blocked by the cover of the carriages. He is repeatedly needing to steady himself when a large bump jostles him anew.

The tank launches another scattershot into the air, and more of the birds fall from the sky. But, they have to address the giant sooner than later. The tank is running about half of its full speed to avoid throwing anyone out of the carriages, and the refugees and captives are clinging to any part of the carriage that they can.

The goblin commander shouts as he makes a cutting hand motion with his left hand pointed at the supports of the carriage canopy. It’s relatively useless anyways, and they need full visibility, as well as rotation for the tank.

“Non-fighters, stay down! Cut the canopies! Now!” He lunges to the nearest safety release for one of the risers, and he unfastens it. Olk is in the back of the same carriage, and he handles the one at the rear left. Several goblins take care of the right, and they quickly throw the canopy off to the right.

The rear carriage quickly follows suit, and Klur signals for the tank to focus on the rear, where a massive and likely ancient tree topples into the road.

Klur only catches a glimpse of the beast stomping after them and gaining on them. Were it standing still, it would be easy not to see it in a forest. It appears to have skin made of bark and limbs made of twisted, knobbly branches. It’s form seems to be some sort of tree-like chimera, with four legs and the gait of some sort of large feline, but the upper torso somewhat resembling a goblin or human. That said, it is monstrous in every way, given that the twisted tree-like appendages forming its arms come to sharp claws, and it has imposing ‘wings’ made of treetops that make it look even larger. Its head bears a hateful, evil gaze with wolf-like features, distinguishable only by shape and piercing golden gemstones nestled deep in pitch black holes in the mask-like bark of its face. They glow like magic lanterns, seemingly meant to lure in prey, were it not already pursuing Grendel 6.

Out in the open, the titan’s form is gigantic, only barely avoiding reaching above the trees due to its low stalking posture. It easily rivals the Dragon General Neith in size.

And, it picks up even greater speed than it had before after surveying its quarry.

Klur shouts out orders as he frantically gestures, and the tank turret rotates rearward. “EVERYONE DOWN! FIRE FIRE FIRE!”

KABOOM!

The cannon fires overhead, and the survivors and captives all scream as the goblin soldiers wince.

Klur knows he can barely be heard by the people in his carriage over all of the noise, even at the top of his lungs, so he frantically keeps the hand gestures going, urging the tank team to keep firing as quickly as possible.

KABOOM!

His prayers are answered, and explosions hit the titan with each shot. The first one blasted through its lower torso, causing it to stumble to its left, and the second shot tears through its right arm.

Its pursuit is barely hindered, though.

The tree-like devil picks up speed after each stumble, ignoring its injuries. It doesn’t shed a single drop of blood, only wooden shards and splinters where the shells ripped through.

To Klur’s horror, he watches as both its torso wound and arm regenerate from new woodland material in seconds, even on the run.

The rifle booms overhead as well, and he is jostled by another major bump in the road. Though Locke’s shot hits the demon’s head, it doesn’t slow.

KABOOM!

Yet another thunderous report from the barrel of the tank beats on Klur’s chest, and this shot his directly in the monster’s chest, causing its goblinoid torso to fold backwards briefly as it bellows in what the goblin can only pray is pain.

Regardless, it recovers, resuming its panther-like bounds towards the tank. It’ll be on top of them in moments.

“GRENADES!” shouts the goblin commander, finding his own on his belt and pulling the pin as quickly as he can, pitching the explosive as far as it’ll go while avoiding the rear carriage. The goblins in the rear carriage are firing barrages of submachine gun rounds at the titan’s head, hoping to blind it or hit a weak point.

Others in his own carriage, including Olk, pitch their own grenades, and seconds later, a chorus of booms pit the ground, stumbling the forest devil once more as it howls in anger.

KABOOM!

The tank doesn’t relent either, firing as quickly as the reloader can put shells into the breach. The ravens continue to divebomb the carriages and tank, forcing some of the goblins to return fire. The injuries are stacking up, but if they don’t stop the giant, they’ll all die in an instant.

The forest spirit roars in a long, somber-seeming cry that still fills the goblin Field Marshal with dread. It only faintly reminds him of a wolf’s howl, but more sinister.

And, as if answering the call, the shadows of the nighttime forest under the moonlight take shape, rising from the darkness to claim the forms of beasts of the forest.

“CONTACTS!” shouts Olk, the only goblin audible to Klur right now.

“All I have for my life,” murmurs Klur to himself.

He is frozen by the realization that they are completely surrounded by evil.

The monstrous forest devil has reached the rear carriage, and it rears it’s claws back, sharpening them into singular spikes with the shapeshifting devilry of its timber-armored limbs.

The moment drags out as the passengers in the rear carriage all scramble forward, and some ready to abandon the carriage, which would be a disaster of its own.

A beam of light shines down from the heavens as if the goddess of the Citadel is watching over them.

The hue of the light is a bright, near-blinding purple-white, and it is concentrated on the left side of the carriage, cutting a line from where it touches down diagonally to the right. The beam touches the devil, halting it in its tracks as the carriage train continues its flight away.

In the split second following the appearance of the divine light, a trailing succession of incinerating explosions erupts from the ground, throwing a massive spray of flames. A gust of wind shields the carriages from the flames as everyone cries out together, startled by the turn of events.

A shadowy figure swoops by overhead, its own teeth and jawline illuminated by blue flames. Though it is fairly far away in the nighttime sky, when it turns, the figure is an inspiration for the goblin Field Marshal.

The divine being that came at the last possible second is none other than a dragon.

The devil falls behind as it flails, its giant body burning thanks to the flames. It doesn’t die, and sinister energy seems to roll out of its body like a black mist. The evil power swirls around the demon, rising into the sky.

Just as suddenly, the moon disappears as clouds form, and a heavy rain begins falling over the forest, extinguishing the flames. The goblins and refugees are drenched quickly, with the non-combatants crying and whimpering in their huddled positions laying down. Some of them are bleeding badly, but the train is still surrounded by enemies.

“Don’t relax! Keep fighting!” shouts Klur, getting his second surge of courage. He aims and fires at the ground-based beasts charging out of the wood line to attack the group. Some charge straight into the tracks or path of the tank, getting crushed just as quickly. But, those attacking the carriages slam into the sides, jostling and startling everyone onboard.

Grendel 6 unleashes volleys of machine gun bursts in virtually every direction. Their weapons are almost useless against the devil, but for these smaller beasts, they are capable of slaying them.

The possessed creatures on the ground are unfortunately larger than the birds, though, and as such, they take a fair number of shots each to bring down. Everything from wolves and balinkons to panthers and even goblinoid beings seem to be mindlessly and fearlessly attacking them. There’s no time to think about why. Only a small part of Klur’s mind processes the fact that their eyes glow a golden color.

While the goblins battle the creatures trying to knock over or break the carriages, the tank turns its turret and unleashes blasts into the crowds as they appear along the trail’s edge. Dirt and debris explodes like sudden fountains of solid matter, launching bodies and disintegrating fiends as it leaves a crater behind.

Simultaneously, the dragon swoops down for another strafe, casting the divine beam down upon the ground once more. The air crackles and booms from the incinerating-lance passing through the raindrops, and the forest devil tries to shield itself, only for its body to explode and burst into flames for a second time.

This time, the dragon comes to a hover as it sustains the high-power fire breath on the monster, trying to disintegrate it completely.

After a surprisingly long several seconds of immolating the archfiend, the dragon resumes its flight inline with the carriage train to catch up to them. It flies low to the treetops, breathing a white fog-like breath. The possessed beasts touched by the breath freeze solid quickly, ceasing all movement forever. The icy path also seems to create a barrier that the beasts refuse to cross, and they retreat into the forest to continue their pursuit by trying to get ahead of the dragon and the tank.

The avian demigod settles into a cruising flight directly over top of the middle carriage, and the goblins are afforded some breathing room finally.

Floria is in the middle of providing healing in spite of her own injuries dripping blood on the carriage floor. Other goblins are assisting her or taking care of their own injuries while they can, and others reload and reassure each other.

Olk slides close to Klur, asking over the noise of the birds being held at by by wind magic seemingly being cast by the dragon, “Did you contact the Citadel?”

“No, but I suspect someone in the tank did. Good thing, too. We’d be doomed without our Lord General.”

Olk nods in agreement.

Suddenly, a tall person appears from the air, dropping onto the middle carriage and landing in a crouch, startling the goblins. They quickly relax, though, since the dragon has ‘disappeared’. Rather, he has turned into a human-like man with silver horns and eyes, grey hair, and a grey reptilian tail. He also wears a long grey mantle like the one Klur gave to the human girl, and he greets the group with a tone conscious of the situation. “Field Marshal, I came as soon as we got the emergency call. What’s the situation?” Neith’s presence instantly reassures the goblins of Grendel 6. He is one of the bravest and most powerful warriors in the Fievegal, and as a dragon, is nothing less than a demigod to the goblin soldiers.

“Squad leaders get head count now,” replies Klur as he glances at Olk, who nods and immediately begins relaying the instructions down the carriage train. “We have known injured. Medics working. Ammunition running low.” He has to brace when the carriage jostles from a pothole, rocking back and forth afterwards. “Enemy appear after Titanslayer used on drake. Titanslayer no work. Grenades also.”

Neith nods. “It was able to cast weather magic and withstood enhanced dragon fire. I’m not sure what it was, but it was no mere treant or dryad. And, given that the weather continues, I believe it is not yet destroyed.”

Goblins are not known for their wisdom in magic. Klur is no exception. He can only believe the words of the dragon, and it is unnerving that the forest devil can sustain a powerful spell after taking a direct attack from that same dragon.

Neith’s tail bumps one of the women, and she cries out.

“Ah, my apologies, my lady.” The dragon does his best to minimize his interference with anyone, but the carriage is packed full with him present. Just as the dragon General is about to speak again, the tank pulling the carriages grinds to a halt, and the carriages ram into the backs of the vehicles in front of them, dropping everyone to their decks.

The tank lets loose another shell, lurching backwards as the soldiers and Neith scramble up to find out what’s going on.

Ahead of them is a sight that sends a gripping fear through all of them.

The forest devil that Neith ensured to incinerate with a dragon immolating breath is blocking the road, gesturing with its hands as magic forms around it.

The grey dragon bolts forward, leaping into the air before turning back into his true dragon form. Wind blasts across the tank and carriages from the transformation. He puffs a breath of burning ignityal to interrupt the titan, but it blocks the fireblast with a sudden swooshing blade of water that it summons.

Neith is also preparing his next attack. Black smoke seems to roll out of his mouth, and he inhales deeply through his nose. His talons begin to turn pitch black and the veins in the dragon’s wings begin to glow an evil reddish purple color.

Even the possessed beasts recoil and flee from the dragon as he focuses on his magic.

Meanwhile, the forest devil is turning its hands into fresh spears, ready to strike once more.

When it pounces forward to spear Neith with its massive wooden spikes, he easily catches them in his talons, and the spikes immediately begin to turn a dark grey color as the monster twists its face in anger and confusion.

The force and brutality of its attack was devastating, creating thunder with the impact with the dragon, but he was able to stop it dead in its tracks.

And, with a powerful exhale, a column of pitch black smoke spews from the dragon’s maw. His own flesh seems to discolor and decay around his mouth as the fog engulfs the misshapen tree monster.

The forest devil shrieks in agony. The sound is so air-shatteringly loud that it forces the goblins to their knees with cries of pain, as well as everyone else. Only Neith seems to resist the powerful wail of pain, still gripping the rotting wooden spikes as he continues to exhale the stream of black fog.

Unlike smoke or simple fog, just gazing on the substance leaving the grey dragon’s maw terrifies the goblin Field Marshal. Goblins are considered evil by many races, and their reputation is unfortunately well earned in most cases.

And yet, fear grips Klur more tightly than anything he has ever felt before. He can all but see deities of death circling around the forest devil, each tearing off a part of its soul. Alkus Gristak is said to be a place inhabited by evil beings that specialize in torture, instilling fear, and revelling in suffering.

That seems casual compared to the raw, pure evil Klur is witnessing presently.

And, as if it agrees, the terrifying titan of the forest struggles in vain to pull away from the colossal dragon.

Not only is the beast entangled in the Chains of Alkus Gristak, but the claws of far more terrifying soul reavers are dug in as well, and Klur can do nothing but watch. His own body trembles, and his senses are all but shattered.

The forest devil’s cry finally dulls into a low squeal, before finally a long sigh like a last breath, and its body evaporates into grey dust, as if it turned to ash in an instant, though even that ash vanishes soon after.

A swath of destruction is all that is left behind as the dragon coughs, doing his best to recover his breath. He uses the last of his magic to transform back into his human form, stumbling away from the lingering cloud of death.

Neith slumps onto the side of the middle carriage, and the goblins finally react, though the lingering trembles of fear still shake their bodies. Even Klur can feel hesitation as he reaches for Neith to keep the dragon and their rescuer steady.

This is the bringer of evil. It is said that, once entangled in the Chains, no one ever escapes Alkus Gristak.

If he was told that Neith was the first, Klur would believe it now.

“Get him into the carriage!” shouts Olk, and he is joined on the ground by other goblins including Klur to lift the Dragon into the carriage, while others pull him in from inside. They all scramble aboard, and Locke calls out, “Aboard! Go! Go!”

The tank commander calls out, ducking inside the tank, which rumbles into gear again. It picks up speed, avoiding the lingering black fog of evil by pushing through a thin portion of the woodland nearby, and the driver circles wide.

For the moment, other than the engine of the tank rumbling, the tracks creaking, and the cracking branches and fallen limbs breaking, there is not a single sound of the forest remaining. All of the possessed beasts have vanished, and any natural creatures of the forest are nowhere to be seen.

After a battle like that, Klur can’t blame them.

Once the forest gives way to the open fields, Klur feels himself relax so much that he nearly collapses. Everyone can feel the tension relieve heavily, and in the sky, they see the lights of the Fievegal’s shuttles coming to provide further support.

Klur intended for Grendel 6 to be able to handle the mission without external support, but even so, the Fievegal had to dispatch reinforcements, or they all would have died.

He’ll have to thank the radio operator who put the call out when he did.

For now, Klur just wants to sleep, but he has to check on everyone’s condition first.

Thankfully, though there are some fairly grave injuries, including the grievous decay of Neith’s face and hands, there were no casualties. The nearest to death were put into void bags to preserve their condition until they return to the Citadel. It’s a precarious state to be in, because a person is neither alive nor dead inside of a void bag, and if it is destroyed, everyone inside ceases to be.

In this case, their hands were forced. It just means that Klur can’t relax until they’re inside the protective ward of the Citadel itself.

***