The shardlings did not waste any time.
As they moved, their limbs and torsos began to shift and crack, metal plates snapping into new configurations.
Their forms elongated, towering and monstrous, blending into something far more menacing.
An amalgamation began to emerge, limbs stretching and reforming, the metallic surface discarded the stones before it fused into jagged edges.
It was still in the process of morphing, but the sheer size was evident.
The giants shrank in comparison, their massive frames rendered insignificant beneath the looming shadow of the titan golemite — a towering monstrosity over thirty meters tall.
Across the battlefield, on the beastmen's side — a golemite, smaller but no less menacing, rising just over twenty meters with a thunderous crackle of energy.
Cain's eyes narrowed, recalling battle records from the Roosevelt Fortress.
Relevant data — that if these unintelligent fragments continued to evolve, they would eventually become vessels for the Old Gods themselves.
Dormant wills lying in slumber, waiting for their vessels to achieve form.
Cain didn't wait.
His hands reached into his backpack, pulling out a sleek metallic barrel fitted with a scope sight.
Next, he grabbed two firearms from his holster, matching the magnetic locks on the rod's interface to the connection points of the guns.
Finally, he swapped out the magazine from the original ten custom spell slots to a rechargeable alloy cartridge.
It held three hundred rounds of tungsten-tipped projectiles, each designed for piercing dense materials and recharged with either a platform station or self-regeneration through magicules.
'This should be enough for now, I hope they don't became too cautious.'
Without a moment of hesitation, Cain scaled the nearest tower, positioning himself on the edge for a perfect vantage point.
His breath steadied, the rifle resting against his shoulder.
When the beastmen saw the rifle's configuration, a few of them exchanged glances.
They knew that setup — it wasn't just a gun, it was a spell-casting rifle.
Their estimation of Cain shot up instantly. Wielding a caster rifle, even if it was a standard model, was a mark of experience and not something easily faked.
As he took off, neither the giants nor the beastmen dared engage the evolving shardlings.
They all knew the risk — interrupting the fusion process could result in either a dud core or an incomplete amalgamation of nine shards, a nightmarish tangle of crystals that required a true artisan to unravel.
No one wanted that.
Cain's body surged with magicules as he reached the base of the crumbling building.
'Weightless.'
He launched himself upward, hands and feet finding perfect grips, boosted by streams of magicules that danced along his limbs.
The climb was effortless, each movement a blur as he scaled the vertical ruins at ten times the speed of any natural climber
His breath remained steady, his vision clear.
When he finally reached the summit of the hundred-meter structure, the view was almost surreal.
He spotted other towering structures even higher in the distance, their silhouettes cutting through the skyline.
Still, this one felt safer — its base nestled close to the forest's edge, a perfect escape route if things went sideways.
Looking afar, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the battlefield.
Below, the giants held their ground in a distant circle, their hulking forms occupying four cardinal points around the evolving golemite.
On the other side, the three rat beastmen were hard at work, something strange catching Cain's attention.
He squinted, watching with fascination as the crossbow-wielding rat beastman made a final adjustment.
The blow dart wasn't just an attachment — it had been fused with the crossbow's frame, turning it into a hybrid gun-ballista.
Behind, the bomber connected a belt to a feed, and Cain's eyes followed the line to an ammo box strapped to his back.
It wasn't just ammunition — Cain could feel something dangerous inside.
Before he could appreciate the craftsmanship, it happened.
A ripple of energy surged across the open field.
The evolving shardlings snapped together with violent force, their rocky shells crumbling away to reveal an obsidian form — its frame was jagged and uneven, as if the earth itself had been folded and pressed into the shape of a monster.
Obscured crimson veins pulsed through its limbs, like molten rivers under iron skin.
Each step it took shook the ground, leaving craters in its wake.
Cain's grip tightened around his rifle.
"Let's see if this rare breed of golemite is superior."
Ragta's gaze locked onto Cain, a wordless signal exchanged across the chaotic battlefield.
Cain didn't hesitate — he fired.
Bang!
The gunshot cracked through the air, aimed straight for the sensing crystal — but the creature raised its arms just in time, deflecting the shot.
Whipping its head toward the origin, the golemite's obsidian eyes scanned thoroughly, but Cain had already ducked back into cover, his silhouette vanishing into the shadows.
This wasn't just a mindless shardling — it had awareness, calculated options, and could retreated.
On the other side, Ragta's younger brother moved with silent steps, with a cleaving swing that shook the earth, the giant brought down a colossal hammer — its head forged from what looked like fossilized bone fused with metal.
The hammer crashed into the back of the golemite's head with a thunderous crack, shards of metal spraying from the impact.
It staggered but didn't fall, its frame swaying as if recalibrating itself.
It learned and adapted — next time, it would watch all angles, not just the front.
The golemite swung its massive arms trying to sweep away the adversary.
The giant braced but was launched back, his four-meter body tumbling through the air like a ragdoll.
Cain watched it unfold, finger still on the trigger. He didn't waste rounds.
Whenever it locked onto a single target for too long, his shots redirected its gaze, creating perfect openings for the ground fighters.
His rifle wasn't just a weapon — with each trigger pull, enchantments wove seamlessly into the fray, reinforcing the front lines fighters with precise, timed bursts of power.
He couldn't help but wonder.
'The smarter it gets, the purer the core.'
He glanced at Ragta and his brother, their eyes fixed on the golemite, not with fear, but greed.
'How far are these guys willing to go for the sake of wealth?'