I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 547: God’s Blood Tree

Lyra reached Jack’s position first, her hands rising as if to touch his blackened arm before thinking better of it.

Her blue eyes looked at the injury with growing distress, noting how the limb hung limp and unresponsive at his side, how his posture had shifted to compensate for the dead weight pulling at his shoulder.

”Jack, what happened? Your arm...”

”It’s fine,” Jack interrupted, his tone carrying finality that discouraged further inquiry. ”Temporary injury. I have solutions available.”

His eyes tracked her face with calculating focus, measuring how much explanation would be necessary versus how much could be deflected through simple dismissal.

”Can you keep quiet about what happened here?” The question was direct, lacking diplomatic softening or elaborate justification. ”Everything you saw needs to stay between us.”

Lyra’s expression shifted, confusion giving way to exasperation.

She glanced around the battlefield, and her lips curved into a slight smile that held no judgment.

”I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jack. I was in the shrine the whole time. Whatever happened out here is none of my business.”

Her tone made clear that she understood exactly what was being asked and had no intention of reporting anything to authorities, regardless of what official inquiries might demand.

Jack’s demeanor softened slightly in response to her statement, acknowledging that Lyra’s pragmatic approach positioned her as a valuable ally, extending beyond mere friendship.

Rhys stood nearby, his winter-ice eyes tracking Jack’s transformation with a mix of concern and professional assessment.

He’d seen the demons, watched the portal deployment, and observed the aftermath of combat that had eliminated a Council member.

And none of it seemed to surprise him beyond normal concern for Jack’s wellbeing.

Father Caelen advanced towards Jack’s location with a professional demeanor, his augmented perception meticulously monitoring the discolored arm, his apprehension growing with each passing moment.

His hands began glowing with soft white light as he prepared a healing technique, channeling divine energy that had served him well for decades of treating injuries that normal medicine couldn’t address.

”Let me see if I can...”

He placed his glowing hands on Jack’s blackened arm, channeling power into the injured tissue with force that should have begun immediate regeneration.

The white light intensified, becoming almost painful to observe directly as Father Caelen poured everything he had into attempting reversal of whatever damage Jack had sustained.

Nothing happened.

The blackened flesh remained rigid and unresponsive, showing no signs of healing despite the energy washing over it with intensity that would have cured catastrophic injuries in normal circumstances.

The light flickered and died as Father Caelen’s reserves depleted without producing any visible effect on the transformed tissue.

”I... can’t repair this,” Father Caelen admitted, his voice carrying frustration.

”Whatever caused this damage operates on a level my healing can’t address. The tissue isn’t just injured. It’s been fundamentally transformed into something my techniques no longer recognize as biological matter. It’s like trying to heal stone or metal... my power simply doesn’t know what to do with material that registers as non-living.”

”It’s fine,” Jack repeated, his tone unchanged from before. ”I have other options available. This isn’t permanent if I act within the timeframe I’ve been given.”

He turned his attention to Lyra, his expression shifting into something more businesslike despite exhaustion threatening to compromise his focus.

”S will go back with you to the manor,” Jack stated, the decision already made before voicing it.

The demon was still standing near the portal’s remnants, his red eyes tracking the conversation with mild interest.

”Tell my mother to send people to restore the shrine. I’ll cover all costs. Whatever’s necessary to repair the damage and replace what was destroyed.”

Lyra’s eyebrows rose fractionally at the casual mention of covering restoration costs for a structure that would require enormous resources to rebuild properly.

The shrine was ancient, its architecture irreplaceable, the marble alone worth more than most noble estates.

But she nodded without questioning the logistics, recognizing that Jack’s financial resources exceeded what most nobles could access even in their wildest ambitions.

”What will you do now?” she asked, her blue eyes tracking his injured state with concern that transcended simple politeness. ”In your condition...”

”I have a way to solve this,” Jack interrupted, his fire hand already moving in a pattern that would open another portal. ”Don’t worry about me. Focus on getting back safely and enjoying some time away from capital politics.”

The gateway stabilized. Through the opening, Lyra could see the interior of Jack’s manor.

The entrance hall with its elegant architecture and expensive furnishings marked the Kaiser family’s wealth and status.

”This leads directly to the manor,” Jack explained, his tone carrying none of the exhaustion his body was experiencing. ”Aurelius won’t know how long you’ve been gone, so you can stay there for two weeks before needing to return to the capital. Take advantage of the time. Rest, recover from whatever Artemis put you through in there, enjoy not having royal duties breathing down your neck constantly.”

Lyra’s expression softened slightly at the offer, recognition that Jack was providing sanctuary. She stepped toward the portal, then paused at its threshold to look back at him one final time.

”Thank you, Jack. For everything.”

Then she disappeared through the gateway, S following silently behind her, his immaculate butler suit still pristine despite the violence that had occurred.

The portal sealed behind them with a soft pop of displaced air, leaving Jack alone with Father Caelen, Rhys, Pho, Loryn, and Sylph still perched on his shoulder.

Jack’s fire hand moved again, this time creating a much larger portal.

Fifteen feet tall and equally wide, the massive gateway crackled with power as it stabilized into passage back to Floor 25.

”Everyone through,” Jack commanded, his tone making clear this wasn’t a suggestion or invitation but a direct order. ”We’re returning to the castle.”

Pho moved first, his massive eight-foot frame passing through the gateway. Loryn followed, his gaunt features showing no particular emotion as he stepped into the darkness, his ancient mind already processing what Jack would need him to accomplish.

Father Caelen and Rhys exchanged glances before complying, both recognizing that Jack’s current state made arguing inadvisable and potentially dangerous given what they’d just witnessed him capable of achieving despite catastrophic injury.

Jack stepped through last, the portal sealing behind him as he emerged into Floor 25’s throne room.

The castle’s interior was unchanged from his previous visits.

Despite the profound exhaustion and the debilitating effect of his blackened arm on his equilibrium, Jack advanced toward the throne.

Each step required conscious effort to maintain proper gait, his enhanced constitution working overtime to compensate for the rigid limb that refused to swing naturally with his movement.

His right arm hung straight down at his side, the transformed tissue locked in a position that made sitting a physical challenge.

The limb wouldn’t bend at the elbow or shoulder, forcing Jack to angle his body awkwardly as he lowered himself onto the throne’s seat.

He managed it eventually, his enhanced strength making up for the lack of mobility, but the final position was uncomfortable.

His blackened arm extended straight down from his shoulder, forcing him to lean slightly left to avoid the limb pressing painfully against the throne’s armrest.

Sylph hopped down from his shoulder, landing on the throne’s arm, where she could maintain eye contact while he sat.

Her green eyes tracked his face, concern unchanged despite his assurances.

Loryn stood before the throne, his hollow eyes tracking Jack’s injured state with recognition that transcended concern into actual understanding.

The ancient mage knew Elemental Necrosis when he saw it, understood the implications of what Jack had done to achieve that level of damage output, and recognized the time pressure Jack was operating under.

”Loryn,” Jack’s voice carried across the throne room with authority that his injured state couldn’t diminish. ”I need you to find a God’s Blood tree and bring it here to the castle. Use whatever resources necessary, offer whatever compensation seems appropriate, but acquire it within the next six days.”