The battlefield burned.
Smoke rose in thick pillars as firelight reflected against steel armor and shattered stone. The invaders surged from the ruins like a tide of shadows—sword-wielding warriors, archers lining broken walls, and crude siege weapons creaking as they hurled stones into the fray.
Their battle cries echoed across the plains, feral and desperate.
And yet… they were utterly outmatched.
Michael stood at the center of the reclaimed command zone, his golden hair fluttering in the heated wind, one eye glowing gold, the other crimson red. His presence was calm—too calm for a battlefield drowning in chaos.
Behind him stood his family.
William X, the Lightning Swordmaster.
His silver-haired elven mother, eyes sharp with concern and pride.
His brothers and sisters—battle-hardened veterans of the Great War.
They watched as metal-clad soldiers moved like living gods, bullets tearing through enemy lines faster than arrows could fly.
Before the next wave of combat began, Michael turned to them.
"It's time you know the truth," he said quietly.
All eyes fell on him.
"I began developing this… before the war," Michael continued. "Weapons. Armor.
Soldiers. Knowledge far beyond this world. But it wasn't ready. Not even close. When the war began, I had no choice but to fight with what I had—my body, my blade, and my resolve."
His father's fists clenched.
"If I had used unfinished weapons," Michael said steadily, "I would have killed our own people. That's why I didn't. That's why I waited."
Silence followed.
Then a deep voice broke it.
"Michael."
Leonard Williams, Michael's eldest brother stepped forward.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Black hair and blue eyes—the image of a Williams warrior. His armor was battered, his sword scarred, yet his posture was unwavering.
"And after what I've seen today… it was the right decision."
Leonard turned to the others.
"All of us—every brother and sister—we were right to push the position of family head to you."
Michael's eyes widened slightly.
Leonard continued, voice resolute. "Not because you're the strongest with a blade. But because you see further than any of us. You don't just think of battles—you think of the future."
Michael inhaled slowly.
"I won't let you down," he said.
Then his gaze hardened, locking onto the battlefield ahead.
"I'm not just rebuilding a family."
His voice dropped, heavy with intent.
"I'm building a nation. A kingdom. One that will stand against the entire world if it must."
The ground shook.
The invaders advanced again.
And Michael raised his hand.
"Open fire."
The order echoed through the system.
And hell descended.
Mounted dual machine guns roared, spitting endless streams of bullets that tore through enemy ranks. Arrows shattered midair against armored suits. Swords bounced uselessly off reinforced plating.
Invaders charged screaming—only to be cut down before they crossed ten meters.
Above them, drones descended like mechanical hawks, marking targets. Moments later, artillery thundered.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM
Siege towers exploded into splinters. Catapults vanished in fireballs. Entire formations were erased in seconds.
Enemy archers loosed volleys in panic.
The arrows hit nothing.
Michael's soldiers moved.
Some ran straight through arrow storms, bullets firing from their hands while the two rear-mounted machine guns tracked targets automatically, mowing down flanking enemies.
Others vaulted over trenches, dropping high-explosive grenades that detonated among tightly packed infantry.
Invader commanders screamed orders.
Too late.
Michael's voice cut through the chaos.
"Delta Squad—collapse their right wing."
Thirty armored figures activated jet-assisted boosts, launching forward. They landed behind enemy lines and opened fire.
The right wing vanished.
Swords clanged uselessly against steel. Magic-enhanced bows snapped under recoil. Panic spread like wildfire.
The invaders tried one last tactic—rolling forward massive siege beasts, armored and chained, meant to break lines.
Michael's eyes narrowed.
"Artillery—focus fire."
A single volley.
The beasts ceased to exist.
Fire consumed the battlefield.
And still—not a single Williams soldier fell.
By dusk, the invaders were no longer fighting.
They were fleeing.
Michael stood unmoving as his forces advanced relentlessly, pushing the enemy farther… and farther… until the land before him was clear.
Miles beyond the original borders.
The Voidland retreated.
The Williams territory stood whole again.
Michael exhaled.
Then—
[MISSION COMPLETED]
The system interface materialized before him.
[Reclaim Lost Territory: SUCCESS]
[Casualties: 0]
[Territory Secured]
The screen pulsed.
[Generating Rewards…]
Michael smiled faintly.
Behind him, his family stood in silence.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Only awe.
The Mighty Dragon of the Human Continent had awakened.
And this…
was only the beginning.