I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 611 611: Go see Glacius

He took one step closer, his presence radiating authority that transcended simple physical proximity.

The blood covering his body was already beginning to dry, dark liquid turning to crusty residue that flaked slightly with each movement.

”The alternative is becoming bound servants. Your souls are claimed through my Soul Magic, your free will is eliminated, and your existence is reduced to eternal servitude that strips away everything except the ability to follow orders. Your consciousness remains aware throughout, trapped in bodies that obey my commands regardless of what you actually want.”

The threat hung in the air like a physical weight, pressing against the Blight Clan members with such force that several of them took involuntary steps backward.

Their bark-like skin grew paler, and dark fluid swelled as their corrupted physiology responded to stress, with visible symptoms.

”So you have a choice,” Jack stated, his voice carrying finality that made the words feel less like an offer and more like an ultimatum.

”Serve willingly, maintain your autonomy, and benefit from the protection and resources that come with being part of my army. Or refuse, and spend eternity as hollow vessels that exist only to execute my will.”

The Blight Clan leaderʼs bark-like skin had gone pale, dark fluid leaking from her cracks in greater volume as stress manifested through her physical symptoms.

Her shoulders shook with emotion as she struggled to suppress tears of dark fluid running down her face as she processed what had happened to Vorath and what was happening to a thousand of her clan members even now.

Her hands clenched at her sides, fingers digging into her palms hard enough that more fluid leaked from the pressure.

Her breathing was unsteady, each inhale shaking as grief warred with survival instinct.

Sheʼd led this clan for two centuries, guided them through purges and territorial wars and countless threats that should have destroyed them. And now she was accepting servitude to a human to ensure they survived the next hour.

But her voice remained steady when she spoke, carrying authority despite the grief underlying every word.

”The Blight Clan accepts your terms, Soul Warden,” she stated, her head bowing in a gesture that communicated absolute submission. ”We will serve willingly and answer when called. Our skills are yours to command. We understand the price of defiance and will not repeat Vorathʼs mistake.”

Her eyes met Jackʼs for a brief moment, carrying emotion that mixed grief with relief that the immediate threat had passed.

Relief that she could return to her settlements and mourn properly, that she could hold her remaining people and explain why a thousand had died for one demonʼs arrogance.

”My clan will mourn our thousand dead,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly before she regained control. ”But we will remember why they died. We will remember that questioning your authority carries consequences that extend beyond individual punishment. And we will ensure that every member of the Blight Clan understands that serving you is the only path to survival.”

The words came out mechanical, rehearsed, as if sheʼd been preparing this speech since the moment Jack had ordered the massacre.

But beneath the formal phrasing was genuine understanding.

She knew exactly what message Jack was sending, and she would ensure that message reached every demon under her command.

Jack nodded once, the gesture communicating acceptance without warmth. ”Loryn will provide methods for contacting me when I require your services. Return to Floor Twenty and await further instructions. When I call, you will come immediately regardless of what youʼre doing.”

”Understood, Soul Warden,” the leader confirmed, her head bowing deeper until her forehead nearly touched the floor.

She turned toward her remaining subordinates, her voice carrying quiet authority as she issued commands in their native language.

The words were harsh and guttural, consonants that seemed designed to hurt the speakerʼs throat.

Her demons responded immediately, forming into a coordinated pattern that placed the stronger members on the outside and the weaker ones protected in the center.

Their movements were efficient despite the emotional weight they carried from witnessing Vorathʼs execution and knowing a thousand of their people were dying even now.

They maintained formation discipline, kept their spacing correct, and moved fast to leave the castle.

Whatever else could be said about the Blight Clan, they understood how to operate under pressure.

The Blight Clan promptly departed the throne room, their distinctive forms vanishing through the substantial doors, which subsequently closed with a resonant creak from the aged hinges.

The sound echoed through the chamber, bouncing off stone walls before fading into silence, broken only by the quiet drip of blood from Jackʼs hand hitting the floor.

Jack stood alone in the chamberʼs center, the Baronʼs blood still staining his clothes and body, the ash pile where Vorath had shattered scattered across the floor in patterns that caught the blood moonʼs fading light.

The Ice Drake had returned to its coiled position near the eastern wall, its crystalline form glowing faintly as dawn approached in whatever form it took on Floor Twenty-Five.

Pho remained at his post near the throne, the massive demonʼs expression unreadable as he observed his masterʼs latest acquisition of forced loyalty through an overwhelming demonstration of power.

His red eyes tracked the blood pooling on the floor, noting how it steamed where it struck stone and ate through the material like acid.

Ren pushed off from the pillar where heʼd been leaning, his purple armor catching light as he approached with casual stride.

His expression conveyed a sense of amusement, indicating that he found the entire presentation entertaining rather than alarming, and his smile was notably broader than usual.

”Another clan added to your collection,” Ren observed, his tone mixing mockery with genuine assessment. ”The Blightʼs corruption abilities could be useful for elimination work that needs to look like natural decay rather than an assassination. Very clean, and very hard to trace back to you.”

Jackʼs yellow-orange eyes tracked to Ren, his blood-covered hand making a small gesture that dismissed the observation without rejecting it entirely.

”They demonstrated competence and understood consequences. That makes them more valuable than clans who require multiple demonstrations before accepting reality.”

”True,” Ren acknowledged, his grin widening as he stopped a few feet from Jack. ”Though I noticed you didnʼt consume the Baronʼs heart. Letting the demonic essence go to waste? Thatʼs not like you. Usually, youʼre very efficient about resource extraction.”

Jackʼs expression didnʼt change. ”He served his purpose, and the clan is already fearful. If I push them too far, they might break from watching me eat the heart.”

Ren raised an eyebrow at the deflection but didnʼt press. His purple armor caught the blood moonʼs fading light as he shifted his weight.

The amusement in his eyes was prominent. He found Jackʼs evasiveness entertaining.

”Speaking of priorities,” Jack stated, his tone shifting to something more direct. ”You should visit Glacius. Get him to cooperate.”

Renʼs grin widened. ”Is that a request or a command?”

”A suggestion,” Jack replied, his yellow-orange eyes meeting Renʼs gaze without flinching. ”Youʼre not my servant. But you want out of this tower eventually, and Glacius is part of that path. The sooner he cooperates, the sooner we both get what we want.”

Renʼs face lit up as he heard Jack speak. ”And what makes you think the spirit will listen to me? It ran out of fear for its life the last time it saw me.”

Ren wanted freedom from the tower. Jack needed Glacius alive.

Renʼs dark laugh echoed through the throne room. ”Youʼre learning. Not just how to crush hearts, but how to leverage what people want. Fine. Iʼll visit the frozen bastard.”

He turned toward the exit, his purple armor swirling as he moved. ”But donʼt expect miracles. Glacius will most likely run the second he feels me approaching.”

”Just try,” Jack replied.

Jack stood alone in the chamberʼs center, the Baronʼs blood still staining his hand, the ash pile where Vorath had shattered scattered across the floor.