Reincarnated as the Demon King's Son

The billions of mercenaries unleashed a storm of chaos upon the Xantis Expanse, spreading the conflict across thousands of planets and solar systems.

The once serene and bustling cosmic region now echoed with the sounds of war. 

The battles were fought not only on the main plaza but also in the expansive landscapes of diverse planets. From arid deserts to dense jungles, mercenaries clashed with the Tribe of Ghost in a desperate struggle for dominance. 

Laser beams and explosions lit up the skies, casting an otherworldly glow on the celestial bodies that witnessed the unfolding war. 

Aldred watched this battle within the Celestial Seraph. "Vortimer, help these mercenaries. Give them information and coordinate them properly."

Vortimer snorted. "You spoke as if I am your subordinate."

Aldred smiled, not forgetting that Vortimer's true body was much more powerful. "You misunderstood. I am speaking with a friendly tone which mean I consider you as a friend."

"Friend?"

"Friend. Bonded by the same goal and ambition. Nothing can divide us except if one day our goal changed, however, that is unlikely."

Vortimer did not reply, instead, he quickly went to work.

Aldred kept his smile, however, deep inside, he was thinking of relinquishing his dependence on Vortimer. One way to do was to rebuild his golem and undead army.

Still, the technology Vortimer offered was too complex. It was so complex that it would be impossible to match it in a short amount of time if Aldred would start from scratch.

Not to mention the advancement of technology were rapid. Every single year, there would always be upgrade and updates.

There was simply no way to catch up if he had to do all of this alone. Unless, he could find someone as capable as Vortimer.

'What about Salamander? He's been distracted from his engineering work because he always focused on fighting. Maybe if I helped his talent a little bit, he can do it.'

Suddenly, loads of data entered into the mercenaries' comms. Vital structures, enemy locations, military hierarchy, and hidden agents were all exposed to them.

All of a sudden, random buildings exploded one after another as they bombarded the agents and spies hidden within them.

On one planet, a group of mercenaries fought fiercely in the midst of a vibrant alien forest. Trees were scorched and ancient creatures fled from the violence. The mercenaries, once strangers from different corners of the galaxy, began to exhibit a surprising level of coordination and synergy. 

Meanwhile, in the vastness of space, dogfights erupted as fleets of ships clashed in intense space battles. Mercenary vessels, adorned with the emblem of the Celestial Platoon, engaged in skirmishes against the stealthy and agile ships of the Tribe of Ghost. Explosions painted streaks of light across the cosmic canvas as the mercenaries fought to control the space lanes. 

Salamander led the expedition to cleanse the Tribe of Ghost from the cosmic theater. Battleships were powerful machine of war that could even decimate an entire planet by itself.

"Most of the ships retreated already," Salamander reported. "Don't worry about the sky. Leave them to me."

The mercenaries didn't really have battleships of their own. Most of them rode a cruise ship to reach this region.

Aldred, observing the chaos from the Stellar Seraph, felt a surge of pride. The mercenaries, initially a disparate group, were proving to be a force to be reckoned with. However, he knew that the Tribe of Ghost, being cunning and ruthless, would not go down without a fight. 

The old man, who had initiated the first strike, continued to lead the charge on the front lines. His booming laughter echoed through the chaos as he blasted through Tribe of Ghost guards with his powerful cannon. 

As the battle raged on, alliances formed among the mercenaries. Language barriers were broken, and cultures melded into a unified front against the common enemy. The once-quiet plaza had become a crucible where bonds were forged in the heat of battle. 

Amidst the carnage, the Tribe of Ghost fought desperately to defend their territory. 

High Lord Varian, the enigmatic leader of the Tribe of Ghost, paced back and forth in his command center, a concealed fortress hidden beneath the surface of a desolate moon. The news of the sudden and coordinated assault by the mercenaries had ignited a fierce anger within him. His eyes glowed with a mixture of frustration and determination. 

"How dare!? How dare they!"He slammed his hand on the holographic table, causing the images of the ongoing battles across the Xantis Expanse to flicker. "Coming to my territory and attacking my soldiers! What impudence!"

The generals, gathered around the table, exchanged uneasy glances. Varian's voice echoed in the chamber, laced with suppressed fury. 

"Explain to me, how did these mercenaries penetrate our defenses so swiftly and launch such a coordinated attack?" Varian demanded, his gaze fixed on his generals. "The Xantis Expanse should be under my complete control! We should know where every insects in our planet are!"

One of the generals, a seasoned tactician named Kaela, stepped forward. "My Lord, it appears they had insider information. Our agents and spies within their ranks have been neutralized. The Celestial Platoon seems to possess advanced technology that allowed them to expose and eliminate our hidden operatives." 

"Fuck them! I knew I shouldn't have let them invite billions of mercenaries in my region! What was I thinking?"

"You can't know at that time, my lord. The idea of billions of people entering our region is a great idea as it will boost our economy to a new level. In fact, from an economist point of view, our territory should be sufficient enough to sustain itself and we don't have to resort to stealing anymore."

Indeed, the billions of people would become an injection of money and manpower.

However, that was merely an illusion.

"Tell me, do we have any agents left?"

"Unfortunately, we almost have none, my lord. The rest of our spies are currently running for their lives."

Varian's fists clenched as he absorbed the information. The loss of their covert network was a severe blow to the Tribe of Ghost's strategy. "How could this happen? Have we been infiltrated?" 

"I do not think we have a rat amongst us, my lord. Thinking so will be a dangerous thought as everyone will be wary of each other."

"We should believe there aren't any spies within us, however, it will be wise if we secretly look for one."

Kaela nodded. "It seems their leader, Aldred, has a powerful ally. Our attempts to track their communications have been futile. They possess technology beyond anything we've encountered before." 

Varian's eyes narrowed. The situation had escalated beyond a mere clash between mercenaries and his Tribe. This was now a battle against formidable adversaries with advanced technology and strategic prowess. 

Another general, a cold and calculating figure named Shinob, added, "My Lord, our forces are holding ground in some sectors, but casualties are rising. The mercenaries fight with an unusual level of coordination. It's as if they've undergone extensive training, perhaps military-grade simulations." 

High Lord Varian's eyes gleamed with a mixture of fury and determination as he absorbed the grim news from his generals.

The ongoing battles across the Xantis Expanse had become a battlefield unlike any the Tribe of Ghost had faced before. The Celestial Platoon, armed with advanced technology and strategic prowess, proved to be a formidable adversary. 

The very fact that billions of enemies entered deep in their territory was a vital key for their helplessness.

"We underestimated them," Varian muttered, his voice a low growl. "But we won't allow this upstart Celestial Platoon to challenge our dominion. We shall not falter! We will fight and reclaim what is rightfully ours."

Shinob, the calculating general, spoke up. "My Lord, we have elite legion of warships awaiting your command. Our best warriors are ready to engage the mercenaries directly. We can hit them where they least expect it and regain control."

Varian nodded, considering the proposal. "Yes, we'll strike swiftly and decisively. Gather our elite forces and prepare for a counteroffensive. I want the mercenaries to feel the weight of our retaliation." 

The generals all agreed for a counter-attack.

The generals were in the midst of finalizing their counteroffensive plans when, with a sudden crash, a group of robots breached through the ceiling of Varian's command center. They landed with precision, forming a protective perimeter around the room, their weapons aimed at the startled generals. 

Leading this robotic incursion was Quantum Sentinel, Vortimer's royal sentient robot guard. The massive, bulky humanoid figure, clad in metallic armor, had a cold, unyielding presence. Its glowing green eyes scanned the room, assessing the potential threats. 

Varian's eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Who dares to breach the sanctum of the Tribe of Ghost?" 

Quantum Sentinel spoke with a mechanical voice that resonated through the command center. 

"I am Quantum Sentinel, loyal servant of Vortimer. By the command of Aldred, leader of the Celestial Platoon, I am here to ensure the safety of High Lord Varian and to oversee the cooperation of the Tribe of Ghost in the ongoing conflict."