I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World-Chapter 155: Dogfight

The Apache’s rotors thundered above the scorched ridges of Emberreach, blades carving the air like divine swords. Inigo gripped the controls tightly, HUD flickering with readouts—altitude, airspeed, radar lock—all of it foreign to this world but second nature to him. The sky around him churned with ash and heat as the red dragon spiraled higher, wings burning with unnatural fire.

He watched her movements carefully. She wasn’t just a beast—she was experienced, ancient, cunning. Every shift of her wings carved gales into the sky. Every roar cracked the air like thunder.

And yet, she’d never fought anything like this.

Down below, the soldiers and citizens of Ironmark stood spellbound along the cliffs, towers, and terraces. Dozens had gathered at the outer watchposts, drawn by the apocalyptic tremors and sound. Their eyes were locked on the aerial duel, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

"It’s not magic..." a young squire whispered.

"Then what is it!?" a knight beside him barked, struggling to keep his jaw from trembling.

"A beast of steel and fire," muttered an archer, clutching a bow that now seemed almost laughable. "It hunts the wyrm from the sky..."

Back at the Flamekeeper’s chapel, the old priestess clutched the stone balustrade, lips tight. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "What god did this man call upon... to ride thunder and challenge wrath?"

Lyra stood beside her, bow forgotten in hand, cloak snapping in the wind. Her heart pounded—not with fear, but with something close to awe. She knew the Apache was powerful, but seeing it fly, roaring with fury to match the dragon’s, left her breathless.

Up above, Inigo pulled hard to the left, avoiding a blast of molten breath that seared the clouds. His left screen flickered with thermal readings—the dragon’s core temperature spiked wildly.

"She’s angry," he muttered, fingers dancing across the controls. "Let’s keep it that way."

He switched to the next payload: air-to-air missiles.

The HUD lit up—tone locked.

He squeezed the trigger.

FWOOOSH!

Twin missiles streaked across the sky, trailing smoke and fire. The red dragon flared her wings wide and dropped like a stone. One missile missed, spiraling into a mountainside and exploding in a bloom of fire. The second clipped her tail.

BOOM!

The shockwave jolted the helicopter, but Inigo held firm.

The dragon shrieked and twisted mid-air, the damaged end of her tail flailing violently. She crashed into a ridge, snow and ash exploding upward as she tumbled down the slope.

Inigo hovered, rotors whipping the wind.

Then the slope exploded in fire and stone as the dragon burst back into the air, more furious than before.

Down below, panic and awe mixed into chaos.

"She survived that!?" someone screamed.

"What is that thing he’s riding?!"

"It spits fire like a sorcerer—no, like ten! Like a demon engine!"

Marshal Cedric, arms folded across his chest atop the tower, narrowed his eyes. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

He’d never seen power like this. Not even the siege weapons of the Dwarven Lords or the floating citadels of the Elven High Court could match what that flying metal thing could do in seconds.

The dragon and the machine clashed in the skies above—one born of fire and fang, the other of steel and storm.

Inigo’s sensors beeped wildly. She was coming straight at him.

"Let’s see how close you really want to get."

He spun the Apache, keeping the cannon trained as he descended quickly. She roared as she gave chase, her wings tearing holes in the sky.

He waited. Waited until her shadow covered the cockpit.

Then—BRRRRT!

The 30mm cannon lit up again, chewing through the air.

Scales shattered.

Blood sprayed.

The dragon flinched mid-flight, recoiling in pain, and veered hard left. Her wing slammed into a cliffside, sending boulders tumbling into the forests below.

Inigo steadied the craft.

"She’s bleeding," he murmured. "Still alive, but I hit something."

A brief blip on his HUD. Movement behind him.

The dragon was spiraling up again.

She was fast. Faster than he expected. One wing dragged, but it wasn’t enough to stop her ascent.

He pulled up to follow, rising past the clouds, where the light turned orange and gray.

As they climbed higher, the winds grew fierce.

But up here, there were no obstacles.

Just sky.

Just fire.

And them.

Meanwhile, a crowd had gathered in Ironmark’s plaza despite warnings to stay sheltered.

Children clung to mothers. Soldiers forgot their orders. Even merchants left their shops unattended. Everyone stared up at the impossible sight of a man in a flying war-beast locked in combat with the dragon of legend.

One elderly blacksmith fell to his knees, tears in his eyes. "All my life we feared the Red. We told tales, prayed to the Saints... but none of them ever touched her."

A bard, wide-eyed and pale, whispered to himself, "I cannot write this song. It would sound like lies."

The Apache banked hard, spewing another volley of cannon fire.

The dragon spun in the air, her scales cracked and smoking.

They were witnessing history.

No—something beyond it.

Cedric finally turned from the tower.

"Get everyone underground now," he ordered. "If he fails... that fire will fall on us next."

And yet no one moved.

They couldn’t tear their eyes away.

Inigo leveled out above the ridge, watching the dragon circle below him like a predator beneath a falcon. She had realized now—this enemy wasn’t prey. It wasn’t even another beast.

It was something else entirely.

She arced upward again, gathering energy for one final burst.

Her jaw glowed.

Here it comes.

Inigo toggled countermeasures.

"Let’s not make this easy for you."

As she roared and unleashed a stream of concentrated fire, he dropped flares and dove.

Explosions of heat raked the air around him. Warnings blinked red.

But he came through—nose tilted up, missile lock reacquired.

"Eat this."

He fired.

The missile screamed toward her, slicing through smoke and fire like a thunderbolt hurled by a forgotten god. The dragon twisted mid-air, but too late.

Impact imminent.

Inigo braced for the explosion.

Below, the world held its breath.

And above the clouds, gods and monsters clashed once more.