Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

Chapter 159: The Arrival at the Dwarven Kingdom



It was five o'clock in the afternoon, and Vincent's team, consisting of fifteen soldiers led by Marcus, gathered near the airfield. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the fortress. Three Blackhawk helicopters sat on the runway, their rotors already spinning slowly in preparation for departure, while two Apache helicopters hovered nearby, ready to provide aerial support.

Vincent stood near the lead Blackhawk, checking over the tactical gear strapped to his body. His mind was focused, running through the mission objectives once again. This wasn't going to be a routine operation-negotiating with the dwarves was unpredictable, and the added threat of demon forces adapting to human technology only made the mission more urgent.

Marcus approached Vincent, his expression serious. "The team's ready, sir. We've loaded the supplies, and everyone's briefed on the mission details. Are we expecting any resistance along the way?"

Vincent shook his head slightly. "We can't be sure. The region we're heading into is supposed to be neutral territory, but with the demons making moves and the dwarves staying isolated, anything could happen. Keep everyone sharp, and make sure we're ready to adapt if needed." Marcus nodded and turned to brief the other soldiers. The sound of the Blackhawks' rotors picking up speed filled the air as Vincent took a final look at the fortress, his mind already on the next steps. The mission ahead wasn't just about military strategy-it was about securing an alliance that could shift the balance of power in their favor.

Eamon, standing nearby, adjusted the straps of his own equipment. Though not a soldier, he understood the importance of the mission. His role as a guide and negotiator with the dwarves was critical. He knew their customs and their pride, and without his presence, gaining the dwarves' trust would be nearly impossible.

"Are you ready for this, Eamon?" Vincent asked, stepping up to him.

Eamon gave a quick nod. "As ready as I'll ever be. Just don't expect the dwarves to roll out the red carpet for us. They'll want something in return, something valuable."

Vincent gave a faint smile. "That's what I'm counting on. We have more to offer them than they realize."

The sound of Marcus' voice echoed over the radio, signaling it was time to move. Vincent and Eamon climbed into the lead Blackhawk, followed by Marcus and several soldiers. The helicopter's door slid shut with a clang, and within moments, they were in the air, the ground dropping away beneath them.

The Blackhawks ascended steadily, followed closely by the Apaches, which took flanking positions. The landscape below stretched out into dense forests and rugged mountains, the terrain becoming more treacherous as they neared the border of the dwarven kingdom.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Inside the helicopter, the hum of the rotors was loud, but the tension among the soldiers was palpable. Marcus glanced at Vincent. "Any last-minute thoughts, sir?"

"Just be prepared for anything. The dwarves are a proud people, and this negotiation could go either way. We'll need to show strength but also respect," Vincent replied, his voice cutting through the roar of the rotors.

The journey wasn't long, but every minute felt significant. As they approached the outskirts of the Dwarven Kingdom, the landscape became even more rugged. High, jagged cliffs rose around them, and the trees thickened into a dark canopy below. The dwarves had made their home deep in the mountains, in a labyrinth of tunnels and caverns.

"Approaching the landing zone," the pilot's voice came over the headset. "We'll be setting down in the designated clearing."

Vincent peered out the window. The clearing was barely visible among the dense forest, a small open space surrounded by towering trees and rocky outcrops. The Blackhawks hovered for a moment before descending, the downdraft from their rotors whipping the trees below into a frenzy. One by one, the helicopters touched down, the Apaches remaining in the air for surveillance.

As soon as the wheels hit the ground, the soldiers sprang into action, securing the perimeter and ensuring the area was clear. Vincent stepped out, his boots crunching on the rocky soil as he scanned the surrounding forest.

Eamon joined him, taking a deep breath. "This is where things get tricky," he said, glancing at the distant mountains where the dwarven kingdom lay hidden.

Vincent adjusted his rifle and nodded. "Let's get to it."

The team moved quickly and efficiently, making their way toward the entrance of the dwarven tunnels. The approach was guarded by ancient stone sentinels, carved into the mountainside, their weathered faces staring down at the intruders.

"Are those hostile?" Vincent asked, glancing at Eamon.

"Those are stone sentinels, constructed by the dwarfs to protect their home. They are normally hostile so yes..."

As Vincent's team moved closer to the entrance of the dwarven tunnels, the stone sentinels, towering figures carved from the mountainside, stirred to life. Their eyes glowed faintly, a dull red hue growing brighter with each passing moment. The earth beneath them trembled slightly as they began to shift, their massive stone limbs creaking as they straightened and turned toward the intruders.

The soldiers immediately reacted, rifles raised, their fingers hovering over the triggers. Marcus barked orders, directing the men to form a defensive line. "Hold your ground!" he shouted, but his voice held a hint of uncertainty. The sentinels were massive, standing at least fifteen feet tall, and their slow, deliberate movements made it clear they were preparing to engage.

Vincent quickly assessed the situation. He had expected the dwarves to have some kind of defense system, but the sentinels' aggressive stance was a complication they hadn't

anticipated.

"Stand down," he ordered his men, trying to calm the situation before it escalated. "We don't want to provoke them."

But the sentinels continued their advance, their stone feet thudding heavily against the ground. They were slow, but their intent was clear-they were not going to let Vincent's team pass without a fight.

The soldiers tightened their grips on their weapons, their training and instincts telling them to defend themselves. Marcus looked to Vincent, waiting for the order, his face tight with

anticipation.

"Sir, we can't just stand here and let them crush us."

Vincent cursed under his breath. He knew that engaging the sentinels would likely ruin any chance they had of negotiating with the dwarves. Killing the sentinels would send a clear message that they had come with violent intentions, but if they didn't act soon, the team would be overwhelmed.

The lead sentinel raised its arm, a massive stone limb that cast a shadow over the group. The soldiers flinched, fingers tightening on their triggers.

Vincent made his decision. "Take it down," he said, his voice hard.

Marcus didn't hesitate. "Javelin team, get that thing ready!"

One of the soldiers, positioned near the back, dropped to a knee and hefted a Javelin rocket launcher onto his shoulder. The team had come prepared for heavy resistance, but using a high-powered anti-armor weapon against a mystical defense felt like a gamble.

"Target locked," the soldier said as the Javelin's targeting system beeped softly, its

crosshairs locking onto the sentinel.

"Fire," Marcus commanded.

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