I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World-Chapter 150: Apache

The morning after the dragon’s display, Ironmark remained quiet.

Smoke drifted from chimneys as it always did, and the clang of the forge carried faintly over the windswept highlands. But under the surface, something had changed. A tension in the air. The kind that lingered after a storm you knew hadn’t passed—it had only paused.

Inigo didn’t linger inside the barracks long. He slipped out before breakfast, boots crunching softly over the frost-lined path leading out of town. No one stopped him. Not Cedric, not Lyra. Perhaps they understood. Or maybe they were too afraid to speak the words weighing on everyone’s mind:

That thing could end us.

He walked without a word, rifle slung over his back, cloak wrapped around his shoulders as he hiked through a woodland trail to the southeast. Sparse trees lined the outer rim of the Emberreach, still green despite the choking ash that occasionally blew from the highlands. Here, the air felt cleaner, and the earth wasn’t scarred.

Eventually, he reached the clearing.

It was a quiet place—flattened grass ringed by pines, some stones scattered at the edges. He’d found it on his first week arriving in Ironmark. He came here to think.

Today was no different.

Inigo exhaled and looked toward the rising sun just breaking through the ash-hazed sky. He knelt by a moss-covered stone and opened the small interface hovering in front of his vision.

The blue shop tab glowed faintly—his only connection to the other world. His last refuge, his ace in the hole.

He tapped through the categories. Infantry weapons. Checked. Tactical gear. Checked. But he needed more than firepower this time. More than just bullets and brute force.

He opened the Vehicles tab.

A moment passed before a list unfurled, and his finger hovered over a familiar name that had burned itself into his memory back home:

AH-64D Apache Longbow

400,000 SP

Twin-engine attack helicopter. Crew: 2. Equipped with 30mm M230 Chain Gun, 70mm Hydra rocket pods, and AGM-114 Hellfire missiles.

Advanced targeting, night vision, thermal. All-weather. Combat-tested.

He didn’t hesitate.

[Purchase Confirmed]

A brief, metallic chime sounded. Then the clearing filled with the low hum of materializing energy. Air warped. Grass rustled. And from seemingly nowhere, a large matte-black body shimmered into view—its frame assembling piece by piece like machinery obeying an unseen blueprint.

Rotor blades extended. Twin turbines settled into place. The 30mm chain gun beneath the nose clicked as it locked into mount. Missiles nestled inside pod mounts. The red and green navigation lights blinked on with a mechanical ping.

And there it stood: a fully armed Apache helicopter.

Inigo took a breath.

"Looks just like the real thing," he muttered, stepping forward and running his hand along the reinforced canopy. The cockpit glass was tinted, the HUD already glowing with startup prompts. He climbed the side ladder and slipped into the pilot seat. Everything was where it should be—the throttle, cyclic, collective. Panels lit up with operational diagnostics, as if welcoming him back.

He slipped on the built-in helmet. It connected automatically with a soft chime.

[Targeting interface engaged. All systems green. You are now the pilot of Apache Zero-One.]

The rotor spun slowly, then faster, picking up speed as he initiated takeoff procedures.

Inigo grinned.

"This is insane."

But he didn’t hesitate. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The ground pulled away as the Apache lifted into the air. Trees bent under the rotor wash, leaves swirling like caught paper. The roar of the engines echoed through the forest as he pulled up and tilted forward. The aircraft responded with military precision.

The town vanished behind him.

He flew low over the Emberreach’s southern edge, skimming the treetops until he spotted a far-off mountain shelf that overlooked a ravine—completely isolated.

There, he circled down and hovered. The altitude warning was clear. Winds stable.

"This’ll do for a test."

He activated the M230 chain gun first.

Using the integrated helmet-mounted display, his gaze locked onto a large, jagged boulder in the middle of the ravine.

Brrrrt—

A thunderous burst ripped through the air. The 30mm rounds slammed into the boulder with armor-piercing force, shattering it into shards. Dust billowed in the wake of the assault, rising into the sky.

"Chain gun functional."

Next, he triggered the Hydra rocket pod. A second target—an old, burned tree stump—was selected. He tapped the fire control.

Thwoomp!

Three rockets launched in quick succession. They streaked through the air, trailing smoke, and detonated on impact with concussive force, sending fire and debris outward.

The earth trembled. Nearby birds scattered.

"Hydras check out."

He toggled the final weapon: Hellfire missiles.

He knew he wouldn’t waste them now—he had a limited stock. But the lock-on system worked smoothly. It found the heat signature of a warm fissure nearby, acquired it, and held target without error.

Lethal. Accurate. Absolute dominance.

Inigo pulled back the collective and rose higher into the sky, circling wide to get a full visual of the ravine and surrounding terrain. He could see everything—clear, sharp, detailed. The thermal picked up the heat vents from distant sulfur pits. The optical zoom revealed birds nesting in crag crevices. Even from this height, he could hit anything within two kilometers.

"This changes everything," he said aloud.

Back in Ironmark, they were forging spears and praying to saints. But he had just introduced air superiority into a world where dragons ruled the skies unchallenged.

He wasn’t ready to fight the red beast yet—not with just one bird, and no support crew—but he had taken the first step.

Air power.

Force projection.

A goddamn Apache.

He landed back in the same forest clearing over an hour later.

The Apache touched down gently, its rotors slowly decelerating. Inigo climbed out, heart still racing. His helmet unclipped with a hiss of air pressure, and he slid it off, brushing back sweat-damp hair.

For a moment, he stood beside the still-warm fuselage and looked up at the skies above.

The dragon was a tyrant of the air.

But now, he wasn’t the only one with wings.