Manifest Fantasy

Chapter 8: Hardale

Author's Note (Story and Patreon Updates):

I will release one free extra chapter for both Manifest Fantasy and Summoning America if any of the following milestones are met:
- RoyalRoad: 3,000 followers on Manifest Fantasy
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- r/HFY: 800 concurrent readers (based on average upvotes per chapter)
- Patreon: $1,000/month creator income milestone

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READ AHEAD: Chapter 9 is now available for Tier 2 Manifest Fantasy Patrons and higher!

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/drdoritosmd

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Hardale Village, Duchy of Eldralore

Sonaran Federation

November 18, 2024

Small snaps and thwacks hit the windshield as leaves, twigs, and other debris flew past the MRAP. Henry looked outside of the passenger seat window, trees swaying in the slight gale outside. It looked tranquil – extremely so, but he knew that this pastoral peace wouldn't last.

He couldn't help but feel a tinge of irony. Here he was, a man trained for the depths of space, now navigating through a fantasy nightmare turned reality. He shook his head slightly, a rueful smirk playing on his lips. "Should've seen this coming the day I signed those NDAs," he murmured to himself.

"Excited for your first quest, eh?" Ron quipped.

Henry exhaled. "Guess you could say that. Not as jittery as you, though."

"You know it, dude," Ron said with a smile. He glanced at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Dr. Anderson hunched over his gear, brow creased in concentration. "Anything interesting, Doc?"

Dr. Anderson responded through the beeps of his EMF meter. "We're hitting about 3,000 milligauss here," he said, voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension. "I'm no expert in this field, but this is well beyond natural levels."

An EMF meter would normally read under 2 milligauss in most places on Earth. On Gaerra, the norm appeared to be around 20. "3,000 quite a bit. Depending on how magic scales, we're talking possible interference to electronic equipment," he said, partly to himself.

What would normally be perceived as bad news by most was received well by Ron, who appeared even more excited upon hearing Henry's thoughts. Strange behavior, to be sure, but not something that Henry already didn't feel himself. Ron's magical quest was his spatial anomaly and the Doc's ancient discovery.

As if directly addressing Henry's statement, the radio crackled and strained against the magical interference. The transmission came from Armstrong Base, "Alpha... fzzt... Overwatch. Hostile... fzzt... Hardale. Expect communication... fzzt... Proceed with caution."

"Copy, Overwatch," Henry replied. We're seeing the interference here. Keep us updated as best you can."

Approaching the village, Henry steadied his hands on the Remote Weapon Station's controls. From the feed and outside the window, he could see dark smoke rising from the treeline. His fears of being too late subsided as he saw the first visuals of the battle. He zoomed in, getting a grasp on the situation.

The villagers, armed with nothing more than farming tools and sheer desperation, desperately held back a tide of monsters, holding a chokepoint at the village's main gate. They jabbed and pierced with some modicum of coordination from behind a wooden barricade, men behind the main line throwing what flammable material they could. Sapling Treants, Goblins, and Hobgoblin grunts assaulted the makeshift fortification, with a few attempting to break down the wooden walls that surrounded the village itself. Unlike their smaller Goblin cousins, the Hobgoblins seemed much more humanoid, standing at average human height and wielding weapons and gear as a human might. The weirdest thing about the entire scene was the fact that the monsters seemed to be working together – a fact that went against everything he had learned in preparation for the test at the Guild.