Guudra commanded his remaining tank battalion to push forward. Although the battle had gone worse than expected, not all hope was lost. A bit of enemy resistance was expected.

No other group in the vicinity had retreated yet, not to his knowledge at the least. The communication devices within these tanks had limited signal range. Moreover, these communication devices were heavy and required a lot of mana to operate hence only heavy tanks were equipped with them. Under expected circumstances, there were more than enough tanks to act as relay stations. Yet, somehow the worst case scenario was presented to them.

The reason for why everyone was pushing forward was simple. It was their faith in the Hero King, and heroes in general. Within their ranks was a hero's party consisted of five individuals. They were the top of the cream, and elites in terms of fighting prowess. That being said, should a full fledged demon appear before them, the outcome of the battle couldn't be definitely predicted.

How do they not notice yet? The devil, the devil! They should focus on the devil! He cursed in silence.

When fear had taken over a person's heart, logic became fuzzy at best.

The hero's group at the moment was quickly making its way to the entrance to the inner city of Vera. They were the spearhead of the army, eliminating powerful enemy soldiers by themselves while not receiving even a single scratch. Their strength was uncontested.

Of the five individuals, the hero was concealed in a tactical mobile suit especially made for him. It was capable of underwater combat and aerial combat, however in this scenario, most fights were street to street. There was no need to fly when the enemies came from below ground. Why a hero was stuffed in a mobile suit was somewhat strange but no one questioned it.

They pushed and pushed until the exterior city was nearly completely under their control despite many losses along the way. Tanks that stopped operating were like blockades, though fortunately, the streets were wide enough for multiple tanks to pass through. At some point, retreat no longer became an option.

As more and more soldiers fell before his eyes from mysterious attacks, Guudra anxiety and fear increased. His faith in the hero could no longer suppress his sense of hopelessness.

Curses, what are they doing!? Stop fooling around! His heart was racing while cold beads of sweat rolled off his forehead.

The heavy tank he was commanding suddenly lost its power without any notable cause. He didn't catch another glimpse of that mysterious devil either but he was convinced it was the devil's doing.

None of the technicians onboard was able to get the tank to operate once again.

"Sir, it appears the mana core was drained. We have no alternative power source, what should we do next?" One of his subordinate said.

"If it has no power then it's useless to us." He stated without showing any signs of his weakness before pondering further.

Since they had no explosives that could obliterate the tank, they had to leave the tank here, but that didn't mean they would leave it in its current condition. Although he didn't initially believe that they could lose this battle, his heart was wavering. A decision had to be made.

In the end, Guudra issued an order, "Grab your weapons and join the infantry. I have something to attend to."

"Yes, sir!"

The order was distributed to surrounding units under his command. Other battalions likely had similar commands issued when their tanks lost power.

This part was practiced in their training regime. It was inevitable for tanks to cease operation when damaged. The tank operators would grab their weapons, whatever that might be, and join the infantry ranks. After the battle, the tanks would be retrieved and repaired, or at least that was how it was supposed to go.

Guudra was the last one to leave. There were still some unused ammunition that could potentially cause some damages. Although he lacked the mana and knowledge to use magic, he could still detonate one or two shells with a rifle. At least, he hoped he could. If he could fire these shells at the enemy, he would have done so already.

However, these shells were manufactured in such a way that only the tank's dense mana could ignite them. It was a safety precaution to prevent accidental detonation.

There were two main types of shells. One type was explosive that contained condensed mana with magic inscribed within. This was the most dangerous type. The other type was basically just a lump of metal that required condensed mana from the tank to be fired. If no ammunition was used, the tank would fire an energy beam instead. Hence, without condensed mana from a mana core, a tank couldn't do a thing by itself.

Please work, please work! This wasn't my fault, this wasn't my fault! Hero King, please have mercy! Grant us your power so we can smite the wretched filth from this land! He prayed and begged.

In this foreign land, no hero could answer his call. The hero's party at the forefront was struggling as the devil wrecked havoc everywhere it treaded. Thousands of men could perish in minutes. They could run but they was nowhere to hide.

Although Guudra knew what he had done when he issued that order, it was by coincidence that he was one of the last ones to remain alive. Those who exited their protective vehicles became sacrifices as waves of poisonous needles swarmed the area like a sandstorm.

Please work!

As if by miracle, his mana temporarily condensed through his will. It was like a flame within his heart suddenly bursting, like a firework in a great snowstorm, a fleeting moment.

That mana now condensed flowed into the rifle in his hand. Not a moment to waste, he opened the hatch above him once again, and jumped out.

He took aim and an explosive followed. A shrapnel penetrated his right eye, but thankfully it wasn't deep. Although he was in great pain, it was something he could bear.

When he looked around with his left eye, he couldn't believe what he saw. It was as if many soldiers had undressed and left the battle. There were shreds of clothing and weapons, and traces of shed blood, but nothing more.

"Impossible! ... This must be a trick, an illusion!"

Little did he know that while he was praying, the battle was in its conclusion. Convincing himself that everything was an illusion, he hurried to the adjacent tanks and began detonating any remaining explosive shells.

The entire time, he didn't dare look in the direction of the mountains. In his heart, fear had taken over, and logic was no longer steering his actions. Although he refused to believe what he had seen, he was afraid to accept reality. Yet, his body knew, thus he continued to retreat while destroying as many tanks as he possible could.

After the battle, he certainly didn't report back to the headquarters. Perhaps he died trying to reach the local headquarter, or perhaps he met his demise in the jaws of wild beasts. There was no search party. No one knew what happened to Guudra Vrail. The country deemed this individual as missing in action and assumed dead.

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