I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 608 608: An eye for an eye

The ethereal flames, entirely comprised of elemental energy, were meticulously sculpted through sheer willpower to serve as a fully functional prosthetic for the absent limb.

The fire hand flexed, fingers curling and straightening as Jack tested its responsiveness. The flames moved with perfect precision, responding to his thoughts as smoothly as flesh and bone would have.

He walked toward Vorath with a steady pace, his yellow-orange eyes fixed on the younger demon's face with an expression that carried no anger, rage, or emotion beyond mild interest in how this would conclude.

As Jack approached, Vorath observed his actions, and his initial resolve began to falter. Jack extended his hand, palm open, as if to shake hands.

The Soul Warden was offering to shake hands with the demon whose bare touch carried death.

"What..." Vorath started, his voice losing some of its earlier conviction. "What are you..."

"You wanted to prove I'm weak," Jack stated, his tone was deceptively casual despite discussing his own supposed inadequacy. "You touched my bound creature to demonstrate that my power isn't real. So let's test your hypothesis. Shake my hand. If I'm just a weak human pretending to be strong, your Blight should kill me instantly."

The fire hand remained extended, flames flickering with an invitation that carried weight beyond a simple greeting.

Vorath's eyes tracked between the offered hand and Jack's face, his mind clearly processing the implications. This was a trap.

It had to be a trap.

Nobody willingly touched a Blight demon's bare skin unless they were suicidal or certain they could survive the contact.

But the alternative was backing down, admitting that maybe the Soul Warden actually did possess strength that transcended his human appearance.

His pride decided before his survival instincts could override it.

Vorath's bare hand shot forward, his shit-eating grin spreading across his bark-like features as he gripped the fire hand with confidence.

Internally, he was jumping with joy. He believed he had just bested the Soul Warden. "Let's see how your fancy fire holds up against real demonic power!"

The Blight's corruption activated immediately, death spreading from the point of contact as it attacked the boundary between existence and decay.

The fire should have extinguished, consumed by corruption that killed everything it touched.

But Jack's hand clenched around Vorath's grip, his translucent fingers tightening with force that transcended simple physical strength.

Then the fire's temperature spiked.

It instantly jumped to levels that made the air around their joined hands ignite. The flames condensed, compressed to a microscopic point that existed on scales normally reserved for stellar cores.

Vorath's grin faltered as he felt the heat penetrating his skin, burning through the Blight's corruption with force that his natural defenses couldn't counter.

He tried to pull away, his survival instincts finally overriding his pride, but Jack's grip held firm.

The condensed heat invaded Vorath's hand, and that's when the true horror revealed itself.

The technique didn't burn in traditional ways.

Instead of consuming flesh with fire, it invaded individual cells and vaporized the moisture that kept them alive. Each cell that died from moisture loss passed its message to its neighbors, creating a chain reaction that spread through the tissue like a plague.

Vorath felt it immediately. The sensation of his hand dying from the inside out, cells rupturing as their water content flash-boiled, leaving only dried husks that collapsed into ash.

"Help!" Vorath screamed, his voice breaking with terror that had arrived too late to save him. "Someone help me! It's burning! Its..."

The creeping heat was already racing up his arm, feeding on the rich blood vessels, accelerating its consumption.

His forearm began desiccating, skin cracking and peeling as moisture vanished and tissue collapsed into powder.

"Please!" Vorath's other hand clawed at his own arm, trying desperately to sever the connection before the technique could spread further.

But his fingers lacked the strength to tear through his own flesh, and the heat was moving too fast for amputation to matter.

His Clan Leader remained frozen, her expression carrying grief and horror but making no move to intervene. Her subordinates stood equally still, recognizing that attempting a rescue would only result in their own deaths.

The heat reached Vorath's shoulder, spreading across his chest in patterns that followed his circulatory system.

His screams intensified as the technique invaded his torso, finding his heart and lungs and major organs.

"I'm sorry!" he shrieked, the words emerging as a desperate plea for mercy that wouldn't come. "I'm sorry! Please stop! Please..."

"Don't beg. You laid hands on what is mine to prove a point. Now I'm laying hands on you to prove mine. I don't believe in fair trades, Vorath. I believe in interest." Jack's voice held a terrifying lightness.

His voice cut off as the heat reached his throat, vocal cords desiccating mid-scream.

His mouth remained open, jaw working soundlessly as his body continued to try to vocalize, despite lacking the physical capacity.

The spread accelerated, consuming his entire torso within seconds before racing down his legs and up his neck. His bark-like skin cracked and peeled, dark fluid evaporating before it could leak from the fissures.

His eyes dried in their sockets, pupils turning to ash while consciousness remained trapped in a dying shell.

Within ten seconds of shaking Jack's hand, Vorath's entire body had been reduced to a desiccated husk.

His form remained standing for a brief moment, held upright by rigor that came from cellular death, before collapsing completely.

The corpse hit the floor and shattered, dried tissue fragmenting into ash that scattered across the throne room's polished floors.

Jack released his fire hand, the flames dissipating as he dismissed the technique.

His yellow-orange eyes tracked from the ash pile to the Blight Clan leader, his expression carrying no particular satisfaction beyond confirming that the demonstration had achieved its intended purpose.

Mira remained standing beside the throne, her empty eyes tracking the scene with complete detachment.

When Jack's attention shifted to her, she straightened slightly in automatic response to her master's focus.

"Go," Jack commanded, his tone carrying finality. "Take the Hydra and Voidweaver. One thousand Blight demons is the cost of this transgression."

"Yes, Master," Mira confirmed, her voice flat as she turned toward the throne room's exit.

The massive doors opened at her approach, revealing the blood moon's crimson light beyond.

The Hydra's seven heads swayed into view, the creature having waited outside with the Voidweaver, whose form distorted space around it.

Mira departed without looking back, the two massive entities following her through the exit as they began their journey to Floor Twenty and the massacre that awaited the Blight Clan's settlements.

The doors closed behind them with a groan of ancient hinges, sealing the throne room once more.

The Blight Clan leader remained kneeling, her bark-like features wet with dark fluid that leaked from cracks spreading across her skin.

Her grief was visible despite her attempts at maintaining a neutral expression, her shoulders shaking with emotion she couldn't fully suppress.

But she didn't protest, beg for mercy, or attempt negotiation.

She knelt there, accepting the price her clan would pay for Vorath's arrogance.

Jack's attention shifted to the bound Infernal Baron, his yellow-orange eyes tracking across the demon's rage-filled features.

The Baron had watched everything, his expression calculating as he processed what the Soul Warden had just demonstrated to everyone present.

"Bring him forward," Jack commanded, his voice carrying across the throne room.