God Ash: Remnants of the fallen.-Chapter 1142: Mercenary Organization.

The strange multicolored lights of the Graveyard of Stars cast everything in an unsettling glow as Cain made his way toward Floki’s position.

The landscape was jagged and hostile, with broken rocks jutting from the cracked earth, pools of something that definitely wasn’t mere water bubbling in the distance. Overhead, the endless expanse of floating debris held in place by incomprehensible forces was the perfect backdrop for impending chaos.

Floki stood at the edge of their temporary camp, his expression grim. Beside him were three other scouts, all looking equally tense.

"Show me," Cain said without preamble.

Floki pointed toward a ridge about half a mile away. Even from this distance, Cain could see movement.

Lots of it.

"They came from the northeast about ten minutes ago," Floki explained, his voice low. "They stopped when they spotted our camp and haven’t moved since."

Cain activated his enhanced vision, pushing his magical senses to their limit despite the lingering discomfort from his earlier mistake. The details came into focus slowly— the strange energy of this universe interfered with perception skills in unpredictable ways.

But he could see enough.

About a thousand strong, just as Hunter had said. But calling them an army felt wrong. While they didn’t seem very coordinated, they didn’t seem like a loose coalition of trial participants.

Cain’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the ranks. There were creatures of every description—scaled, furred, armored. Some walked on two legs, others on four or more. A few flew overhead on leathery wings. The diversity reminded him uncomfortably of Anathe’s colony, but these beings seemed fairly looser in organization.

At the center of the formation stood something that made Cain’s assessment shift from concerned to dangerous.

His eyes narrowed as he focused in on him and activated the {Eye of General Observation}.

***

{Centauri}.

***

The creature was massive—easily nine feet tall, with the lower body of some bovine beast and a humanoid torso that rippled with dense muscle.

Two curved horns emerged from its skull, each one as thick as Cain’s arm. Its skin had a faint bronze sheen that suggested either natural armor or magical enhancement.

But it was the intelligence in those eyes that concerned Cain most. This wasn’t some mindless brute. This was a commander, and judging by the way the other creatures deferred to it, a very experienced one.

"These guys certainly aren’t simple," Cain said flatly.

"Yeah," Floki confirmed. "Question is, what do they want?"

"Who knows..." Cain muttered.

Susan had arrived while he’d been observing, with Hunter close behind. She studied the distant force with a calculating expression.

"We could try talking to them," she suggested, though her tone suggested she didn’t think it would work.

Cain shook his head. "No. I doubt that will happen."

Hunter huffed and turned to him,

"So what’s the call?"

Cain was quiet for a long moment, running calculations in his head. A thousand against barely a hundred. On paper, it was a massacre waiting to happen. Most groups would retreat, abandon their position and hope to find safer ground elsewhere.

But when one came a living calamity like he had become, a certain kind of ego took root.

A small smile crept into his face,

And he’d prepared for exactly this kind of situation.

"We attack," he said calmly.

The statement was met with silence. Even Hunter, who’d fought beside Cain through countless battles, looked uncertain.

"Cain," Susan started carefully, "We have no idea what—"

"Don’t matter." Cain turned to face them, and something in his expression made them all take a step back.

He looked past them toward the camp where the rest of their forces were gathered. "Get everyone ready. Let’s give these guys hell."

Floki nodded and immediately took off to relay the orders. Hunter lingered, studying Cain’s face.

"You’re sure about this?"

"No," Cain admitted. "But we don’t have a choice. Besides, how can we pass up on such an opportunity."

Hunter grimaced, "Opportunity doesn’t seem like a word appropriate for this case."

Cain shrugged, his lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "We’ll be the ones picking a fight this time around.

He’d been waiting to test the true limits of his new capabilities. This was a fine opportunity indeed...

***

The camp erupted into controlled chaos as orders spread through the ranks. Warriors checked their equipment and the mages began their pre-battle rituals. Contracted beasts growled to life, the coming scent of blood exciting them.

Cain stood at the center of it all, feeling the weight of it all. And underneath that weight was something else— anticipation? Or maybe even excitement.

He’d become powerful. Frighteningly so. But he hadn’t had the chance to truly unleash that power, not with the constraints of fighting alongside allies who could be caught in the crossfire.

This battle would be different.

The wind picked up.

The violent, strange and chaotic world around him seemed to resonate with the churning within him.

He activated {Mana Vault}, feeling the skill respond immediately. The storage space within his spirit opened, revealing the reserves he’d painstakingly accumulated over the past weeks. Stars of condensed elemental energy floated in that internal space—fire, wind, metal, water, lightning, and more. Each one represented hours of meditation and mana channeling, compressed and stored for exactly this moment.

Before his advancement to Warlock, he could only draw from a single star at a time. Now, with the class evolution and his enhanced control, he could access multiple simultaneously.

The difference was staggering.

Cain reached into the vault and touched three stars at once—fire, wind, and lightning. The elemental energies responded eagerly, flowing into his circuits without the usual resistance or interference. {Seal of Arbitrator} harmonized their interaction, preventing the catastrophic feedback that should have occurred when mixing such volatile elements.

Power surged through him, and Cain had to actively suppress the visible manifestations.

Lukas approached, his bastard sword already drawn and resting casually on his shoulder. The leader of the Lightslayers looked completely relaxed, like he was heading to a sparring match rather than a life-or-death battle.

"So we’re really doing this, huh?" Lukas said, his tone carrying that characteristic mix of apathy and subtle arrogance. "Gotta say, I was getting bored just sitting around."

"You’ll have your work cut out for you," Cain replied. "That thing is the leader." He said, pointing at the {Centauri}.

Lukas’s eyes drifted toward the distant mercenary force, settling on the massive horned figure at its center. He raised a brow,

"A Carabao? Damn, they have those things in here."

Cain snorted a chuckle.

Lukas chuckled then shrugged,

"Yeah, I see the big guy. I’ll handle him. But I get to keep the horns."

Cain raised a brow, "Why the horns?"

Lukas shrugged,

"Do I get the horns or not?"

Cain blinked them chuckled wryly

"Sure. Why not?"

Lukas lightly tapped his shoulder,

"What a wonderful leader. I’ll have the cow... well, whatever that is down in a split second."

"Don’t get cocky. And don’t die." Cain warned.

"Wouldn’t dream of it, boss." Lukas said with a chuckle.

The rest of the Lightslayers had gathered behind Lukas,

"Alright, bastards. Let’s move out."

Hunter materialized beside him, having finished organizing the main force. "We’re ready."

Cain looked toward the mercenary force. He could practically smell the bloodlust and killing intent in that air.

It was very clear words were useless in this case.

Too bad they had no idea what they were walking into.

"The signal is when I start casting," Cain said simply.

He began walking toward the front of their formation, his grey robes billowing slightly in the strange wind of this alien world. The {Arbitrator’s Stamp} gloves gleamed on his hands, their white fabric marked with blue, green, and gold accents that caught the multicolored light.

Cain stopped about fifty meters from his own front line, standing alone in the space between the two forces. He could feel everyone watching him.

Let them wonder.

He raised his right hand deliberately slowly. The gesture was simple, almost casual. But to those who knew what to look for, it was a declaration.

In the distance, a large machine of a living creature looked ahead at the small creatures clad in grey robes with narrowed eyes.

The Centauri’s voice boomed across the distance, speaking in a language Cain didn’t recognize But he could understand clearly thanks to the system;

"Surrender or face immediate annihilation."

Cain’s response was to flex his fingers, feeling the power stored in {Mana Vault} ready to be unleashed.

Then he began to cast.