The parchment that Fizz held was no trick. A Demonic Contract of any tier carried weight not because of its appearance, but because of the system that birthed it.
These documents were more than simple written agreements, they were living artifacts of hell.
Each contract had a designated slot for both the contractor and the contractee.
These roles could not be manipulated or switched, regardless of how vague the terms were written.
The magic woven into the contract was sentient in its own way, responsive to the nature of intent.
If someone lied about their role, or tried to swap positions to dodge a curse or loophole, the contract itself would react.
The contract didn't just bind based on technicalities. It evaluated desire, weighed fear, and processed guilt.
It read not only what was written, but the truth beneath the ink. The moment blood touched it, the contract would become aware of how the agreement was forged, what mindset the signer carried, and what goals lay beneath the stated terms.
For that reason, the documents were notoriously hard to manipulate. Even expert conmen and silver-tongued merchants found themselves exposed under its scrutiny.
Cain understood this. His team understood this.
Despite the battlefield around them, despite the chaos stirred by the Blight Centivine, the air surrounding the contract remained still.
Everything else in motion, except the deal that waited in their hands.
Cain never let his attention drift. Even while the negotiations hovered like a second battlefield in the background, he continued his support maneuvers across the treetops and fractured footholds of the ravaged terrain.
Using condensed platforms of raw magicule, he maintained a fan-shaped spread, constantly moving in wide arcs while providing fire from shifting angles for the Blight Centivine.
With each flash of light summoned from his rifle, another orcish melee units staggered, interrupting the forward push due searing bursts to their eyes.
Cain even had time to give out the team their assignments.
"Tol, Ricky, focus the backline archers, let's burn their mana reserves to shield."
He had instructed calmly over the comms.
"Pumbo, keep suppressing that commander, don't let him speak."
"Beany, keep our positions covered with your shadow and fog."
"We're not here to finish this war we aren't paid for, were just here to drive them back long enough to wrap up harvesting."
From the edges of the field, Ricky and Tol moved between partial rock cover, each targeting the ranged attackers weaving behind the frontline.
Their aim was not for clean kills, but for destabilization.
The goal wasn't total elimination. It was chaos and consumption.
Shields are more costly that an offense overall.
The two white goblins watched the operation unfold with a surprising lack of concern. They didn't seem insulted that Cain's group was more interested in the plant than protecting them.
Fizz and Fayn shared a glance, exchanging something between recognition and amusement. From their point of view, this was likely a contracted job.
Humans sometimes took on dangerous harvesting missions, and they assumed Cain's team was simply one of those hired units.
"We add in the contract that we'll wait you kill the Centivine, you know."
Fayn's eyes widened, and without thinking she pinched Fizz on the side hard enough to leave a mark. She leaned toward her and whispered back through clenched teeth.
"Are you insane? Why are we risking this much? What if they're incompetent?"
Fizz rolled her eyes and hissed, yanking her cousin's hand off her side.
"Our tribe leader's so obsessed with those dead warrior codes. I'm tired of it. I want medicine. I want hospitals. I want to wear something that doesn't feel like a potato sack."
Fayn didn't argue. She'd had the same thoughts, but also the fear of dying, left to rot in human territory, contract be damned.
Cain's team wasn't indifferent to the goblin's motives, but their priority remained fixed.
In the heat of a mission, idealism had to take a backseat to survival.
They had to acknowledged the contract, processed the implications thoroughly, and move afterward.
That was how they were as humans were trained. They didn't dismiss the goblin's request, but neither did they drop everything to address it.
Still, the topic didn't vanish. It lingered between moments of gunfire and light bursts, surfacing when possible.
Every few minutes, someone pinged Cain through comms, asking for updates or quietly floating opinions.
The contract wasn't something they could ignore forever.
Beany was the first to offer something more than silence. She muted her earpiece for a brief moment, then switched back in with a whisper.
"I'm in. For the job, I mean. Not the bleeding part, but I think it's worth it."
Ricky and Tol stayed close, providing suppressive fire, while still glancing toward Cain every so often.
They didn't speak at first. They just watched him, as his figure constantly darting through the air, flickering in and out of clouded vision as he continued to blind enemy frontliners and thin out pressure points in their advance.
Pumbo, meanwhile, stayed locked on the red orc commander.
His aim never drifted. Shot after shot was directed at the leader's armor and helm, wearing out his mana
When the last few shells fizzled against layered mana protection, Pumbo finally broke silence.
"Are we even making good money doing this?"
It wasn't sarcasm. Just curiosity. Cain's breathing was heavier now, the cost of movement and focus catching up to him, but he responded with composure.
"About half of what we'd get for the Centivine. Not counting extras."
Tol processed it. He weighed the gold. A hundred to couple if the plant got destroyed, divided across five.
Then add whatever they could negotiate from the goblins. Maybe salvage opportunities.
He gave a short nod.
The numbers weren't great, but they weren't bad either.
There was margin, and that was enough for him.
Just as Cain's team settled into a shared unspoken agreement, Pumbo's voice cracked through the channel.
"Void my lobby contract."
It hit like a stun grenade.
For a moment, the rhythm broke. Everyone hesitated. Cain's fingers tensed. Even the goblins paused.