The Hammer of War, Chapter 47

Name: Amir Azad
Title: War-Summoner
War Points: 0

STR – 42
DEX – 33
VIT – 153

One of the best things my dad ever taught me was the value of just sitting still and waiting. At times, when you kept on chasing and running after something, no matter how badly you wanted it, there was a good chance that whatever you’re after was gonna start running away from you. I learned that the hard way during high school. I was so desperate to make new friends that I weirded out every prospective friend because I tried too hard and became something of a social outcast. I wasn’t hated or bullied, but I kind of just hung out by myself most of the time. Eventually, I learned to slow down and just observe. In a lot of cases, opportunities and chances often revealed themselves out of the blue if you waited patiently. Of course, it wasn’t wise to sit and do nothing all the time either, but it was crucial to keep a sharp eye out. Those moments came rarely, passed quickly, and vanished if you weren’t ready to act.

This turned out to be one of those moments.

The Sikh Demon Hunters’ armored vehicle rolled smoothly beneath us, tires gripping the road steadily, suspension absorbing every bump in the terrain. The hunters around me were still as statues, silent beneath their visored helmets, gripping their rifles loosely but ready. The vehicle’s interior was dark, bathed in a dim, pale glow from the tiny red indicator lights on the equipment panels. There was the faint scent of metal polish and the muted hum of electronics. Nobody spoke. The tension was palpable, but controlled. It was the calm, steady silence of men accustomed to long periods of quiet.

Then, abruptly, the calm shattered.

A heavy impact rocked the armored vehicle, striking the opposite side hard enough to buckle reinforced steel. A deafening screech of metal tore through the confined space, sharp and ragged. Hunters lurched violently sideways, armor plates colliding with one another, rifles clattering against the interior walls. Before any of them could recover their footing, two massive ivory tusks punched clean through the vehicle’s wall, rupturing armor plating and shredding wiring like threads of string. Sparks erupted, bright white in the darkness, briefly illuminating shocked faces behind darkened visors.

The armored vehicle lifted off its wheels. Gravity twisted sideways, pulling at my stomach. Instinctively, I gripped a rail bolted into the wall beside me. The world spun, metal and bodies tumbling around me as we rolled over. There was a brief sensation of weightlessness. Then we slammed down onto the vehicle’s side with a bone-jarring crash, my head snapping painfully against the cold metal wall. Darkness flashed across my vision. The dull ring of impact lingered in my skull, vibrating behind my eyes.

“That can’t be good.” I whispered. 

The guy beside me groaned. “No. Probably not.” 

For a moment, everything was silent again. Then chaos erupted.

Men shouted orders in clipped Punjabi, urgent but controlled, as their training kicked in. Hands reached out, gripping weapons, pulling companions upright. Smoke poured from ruptured panels and torn conduits, filling the air with acrid fumes. The broken vehicle’s interior lighting flickered wildly, casting rapid, erratic shadows. My wrists were unbound, free enough that I could brace myself upright, catching a glimpse through the damaged wall at what had attacked us.

A demonic thing towered outside, massive and terrible, its presence dominating the landscape. It stood over twenty feet tall, six powerful arms extending from shoulders knotted thick with muscle. Each hand held a brutal, jagged weapon—swords, axes, and spears of black iron. Tusks protruded grotesquely from a broad, feral face, curving upward like scythes, stained yellow with age. Eyes burned with dark, crimson light beneath a crown of matted, black hair. Its chest rose and fell rapidly, breaths steaming visibly in the night air. Its feet crushed stones beneath immense weight, dirt spraying outward each time it shifted its stance.

“It’s a Rakshasa!” One of the Demon Hunters yelled. Huh, I almost forgot that India had more than its fair share of supernatural monsters right out of myth. If anything, India probably had a ton of them–a lot more than what most places probably had, considering all the gods here, assuming any of them were real. 

The Rakshasa raised one massive fist and brought it crashing down again onto the armored plating, metal buckling inward from the blow. The entire vehicle shuddered violently. The hunters around me shouted again, steady voices calling for defensive positions. Weapons cocked, armor clicked into place, visors glowing faintly as they adjusted their aim.

I took a slow breath, pushing back the dizziness from the impact. My pulse hammered steadily behind my ears, adrenaline sharpening every sense. I kept my [Blank] aura tightly under control, holding it at low intensity. I wasn’t ready to reveal all my cards yet. I also wasn’t alone. If I activated it at an intensity that could kill this monster, I’d also end up hurting the Demon Hunters, which would fail the quest. 

The Rakshasa roared again, deep and resonant, its voice rattling the armored plating around us. Men readied themselves, gripping their weapons tighter. One hunter moved toward the damaged side, attempting to find an angle through the shredded metal. Another shouted warnings, steadying his aim from the rear. Despite their preparation, their postures spoke clearly: they weren’t ready for this.

I steadied my breathing, legs braced, eyes scanning the ruined vehicle’s interior. The chaos around me slowed in my mind, settling into ordered patterns. This was the moment I'd been waiting for, an opportunity born from sudden disorder. In the confusion and panic that followed, I’d find my way out—without killing any of them. That was the trickiest part.

The Rakshasa slammed its fist down once more, metal plates splitting open beneath the force of the blow. Bright moonlight spilled through the gap, revealing the creature’s snarling visage clearly. For one tense heartbeat, all motion paused, hunters and Rakshasa both frozen, assessing the sudden breach.

Then the creature lunged, massive arms driving forward, weapons swinging in brutal arcs, intent on death. The hunters reacted instantly, disciplined fire erupting from rifles, bullets hammering against the monster’s flesh with dull thuds, leaving smoking holes on the giant monster’s skin. Sparks and hot casings bounced onto the floor, bright and sharp in the smoky gloom. 

As gunfire rang around me and the Rakshasa bellowed furiously, I moved. Staying low, weaving carefully between armored legs and discarded weapons, I made for the gaping wound in the vehicle’s hull. My heartbeat quickened, muscles tensed with each cautious step. The sharp, acrid scent of burning wires and gunpowder hung heavy in my nostrils, stinging my throat. 

Carefully, silently, I squeezed myself through the ruptured steel plating. Cold night air brushed my skin, filling my lungs and sharpening my focus. I dropped quietly onto hard-packed earth, dirt crunching beneath my boots. The vehicle lay overturned behind me, black smoke billowing skyward. Shouts and gunfire echoed from within, punctuated by the Rakshasa’s furious roars.

I took one slow breath and slipped quietly away into the shadows.

Boots crunching on dirt, I moved swiftly into the sparse cover of stunted trees and brush. Cold air burned in my lungs with each steady breath. My heartbeat thudded a controlled rhythm, muscles straining lightly as I picked my way through the uneven ground. Darkness wrapped around me, offering concealment but demanding caution in every step.

Behind me came the sudden, wrenching sound of metal being torn apart, mixed with the distant echoes of shouting. The noise cut through the night sharply, briefly pulling my attention back toward the overturned vehicle. My pace faltered slightly, then quickened again. I tightened my jaw, refocused my gaze on the dark path ahead.

Another scream pierced the cold air, raw and ragged. This time I couldn't help but glance backward. Through a gap in the brush, illuminated starkly by the moonlight, I saw one of the hunters suspended briefly in the air, limbs flailing helplessly. The Rakshasa’s massive hands gripped the man’s torso with terrifying ease, then twisted violently. There was a sickening snap of bones, and the hunter’s body tore neatly in half, blood splattering the vehicle’s side like paint thrown from a bucket.

My steps slowed instinctively, snow shifting underfoot. I crouched slightly, breathing shallowly. From my vantage point, I could see that the Sikh Demon Hunters were scattered, firing disciplined bursts that punched ragged wounds into the Rakshasa’s hide, yet they gained no advantage. The creature’s massive form surged forward undeterred, blades and axes whirling in wide, savage arcs. Another hunter was thrown brutally to the ground, his legs trapped beneath the Rakshasa’s foot. Armor buckled with a sound like cracking ice. He screamed, high and frantic, limbs thrashing in agony.

I exhaled sharply, muscles tensing, heart quickening with a jolt of adrenaline. I turned, preparing to continue my retreat. It wasn't my fight. I owed them nothing. Yet my feet remained rooted. My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms. Another pained cry rose into the air, abruptly silenced.

The Rakshasa roared triumphantly, raising two of its jagged blades into the night sky. Gore dripped from its tusks and fingers, steaming gently in the cold air. Hunters pulled their wounded away, shouting quick commands to regroup, but their formation had shattered. Several lay unmoving, blood pooling silently beneath broken armor.

I sighed deeply, the breath heavy with resignation. With a flicker of thought, the familiar weight of the [Tau Rail Rifle] appeared from my [Inventory], settling reassuringly into my grip. My hands moved automatically, shifting into practiced firing posture. My finger rested lightly on the trigger, thumb brushing the familiar ridges of the weapon's grip. I knelt slowly, bracing myself against the trunk of a small, leafless tree.

Through the rifle’s sights, the Rakshasa's face was a clear target—open, arrogant, its snarling visage illuminated in faint crimson moonlight. The world narrowed into the crosshairs. My breathing slowed, heartbeat steadying. The rifle’s charge hummed gently, sending faint vibrations through my palms.

I squeezed the trigger gently.

A brief flash of electric blue split the night, the magnetic rail discharging with a high-pitched crack. There was no recoil from the rifle itself; however, the sonic boom produced by the round created a similar effect that had the rifle’s stock digging into my shoulder. The round struck the Rakshasa’s head with precise, ruthless efficiency.

Its skull burst apart, blood and bone spraying in a fine, scarlet mist. The enormous body froze momentarily, arms still raised, as if unaware it was already dead. And then, its fingers loosened and its swords fell to the ground. Slowly, heavily, it toppled backward, landing with a dull crash that vibrated through the earth. I half-expected it to just grow a new head and attack again with renewed vigor, but… nothing of the sort happened. The Rakshasa was dead and it seemed like it would remain dead. I suppose it was easy to forget about the fact that the [Tau Rail Rifle] was still an incredibly powerful weapon that was far beyond anything humanity in this day and age could’ve produced. 

The hunters stood frozen, weapons raised but silent, helmets turned toward the creature's lifeless form. Smoke and steam curled from their armor, mixing with the faint vapor rising from spilled blood.

Without waiting another moment, I swiftly stored the [Tau Rail Rifle] back in my [Inventory] and turned sharply away from the scene. Dirt skittered beneath my feet, branches snapping lightly as I moved deeper into the darkness. My pace increased rapidly, legs pumping steadily, muscles burning slightly from exertion. I focused my gaze forward, breathing controlled, vision sharp.

Legendary Beast Slain! [Vinashaka Rakshasa]
+4000 War Points!

Huh? Oh, holy shit. 

The night swallowed me again as I turned and began sprinting the opposite direction. This time, I ran with all the power that my legs could muster and, considering my STR stat, that meant I could outpace actual cars. And, with their armored vehicle currently out of commission, the Sikh Demon Hunters wouldn’t be chasing after me anytime soon.