I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 609 609: Infernal Baron [Golden Ticket Chapter Bonus]

Four Blight demons gripped the Baron's chains and hauled his massive frame toward the throne's base like butchers dragging a carcass to the block.

They moved as one unit, their bark-like hands straining against the weight as the Baron's body scraped across stone with sounds that echoed through the silent chamber.

The Baron struggled against the restraints, his red charcoal skin flushing darker as he channeled strength that should have shattered normal bonds.

His muscles bulged grotesquely beneath the fat, veins standing out like thick ropes as demonic power flooded his system in a desperate attempt to break free.

But the chains held.

Their enchantments flared brighter with each surge of power, white light bleeding from every link as ancient magic suppressed the demonic strength trying to overwhelm them.

The runes carved into the metal pulsed in rhythm with the Baron's heartbeat, drawing power from his own essence to fuel the restraints binding him.

Within seconds, the Baron was positioned directly before Jack's throne, forced to his knees by the demons yanking his chains downward with coordinated brutality.

His knees cracked against stone hard enough to fracture the floor beneath him, spiderweb cracks spreading from the impact points.

Jack descended the remaining steps with casual movement, his boots making quiet sounds against stone as he approached the kneeling Baron.

His height was unremarkable compared to the demon's massive frame. Even kneeling, the Baron's eyes were level with Jack's chest.

The power imbalance was evident as the crimson eyes observed Jack's approach, revealing a mix of fury, acknowledgment, and a hint of apprehension beneath a facade of defiance.

The Baron's breathing was heavy, each exhale creating small clouds of crimson vapor that dissipated in the throne room's air. His runes continued pulsing across his skin, trying desperately to activate defensive enchantments that the chains prevented from manifesting.

Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool temperature, his body recognizing the danger his pride refused to acknowledge.

His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, fingers digging into his own palms hard enough to draw blood. The dark liquid dripped onto the floor in slow rhythm, each drop creating a small sizzling sound as it ate through the stone like acid.

"You know who I am," Jack stated.

The Baron's jaw clenched, teeth grinding audibly before he forced words through vocal cords that clearly wanted to remain silent. "Jack Kaiser. The half-demon pretending to be Soul Warden. The mortal who killed my emissary and daddy."

His voice carried venom that went beyond simple hatred. This was personal. These demons had been his people, demons he'd elevated through the ranks over decades of service.

The loss of these two soldiers had significant ramifications beyond the immediate casualties.

It resulted in a considerable diminishment of his standing, influence, and the esteem he held among his fellow Barons, who observed a human successfully challenge his demonic forces without repercussions.

"I killed them because one annoyed me and the other tried to kill me when I offered peace." Jack decreed.

The Baron's eyes blazed brighter, red light intensifying as accumulated rage bled through despite the chains suppressing his physical strength. "They were collecting tribute that was rightfully owed to their Baron. Standard practice throughout the tower's lower floors. You had no authority to interfere."

His voice rose with each word, the careful control slipping as grief and fury overwhelmed whatever tactical sense told him to stay quiet.

"They served me for seventy-three years! Daddy saved my life during the purge of Floor Eleven! Thrall stood beside me when the Crimson Horde tried to claim my territory! And you killed them like they were nothing! Like their decades of loyalty and service meant nothing compared to your mortal sense of justice!"

Spittle flew from his mouth, landing on Jack's boots. The Baron didn't seem to notice or care, his attention fixed on Jack's face with intensity that made the air around him shimmer with heat.

"I had the authority that comes from being strong enough to kill anyone who disagrees," Jack replied, his tone matter-of-fact despite the Baron's emotional escalation.

"Your subordinates tested that authority. They lost. Now you're here because the Blight Clan recognized what your people failed to understand."

The Baron's mouth opened to deliver some final defiant statement, perhaps a curse or threat about how his death would bring consequences that Jack couldn't escape.

His lungs filled with air, his vocal cords preparing to form words that would be his last act of resistance.

But the words never emerged.

Jack's right hand moved with speed that bypassed the Baron's ability to track, fingers punching through the demon's chest to grip the heart beating beneath layers of fat and muscle.

The Baron's prepared speech transformed into a scream that emerged as a wet gurgle as blood filled his throat, his eyes going wide with shock that transcended the physical pain.

Jack's fingers wrapped around the organ with precision born from practice, feeling every chamber of the heart pulse against his palm as the Baron's body tried desperately to maintain function despite catastrophic damage.

The muscle was larger than a human heart, built for a frame that stood over nine feet tall and weighed nearly a thousand pounds.

Each beat sent waves of pressure against Jack's grip, the organ fighting to continue its purpose even as it was being destroyed.

The Baron's hands shot up instinctively, grabbing at Jack's arm in a futile attempt to pull it free.

His fingers dug into Jack's flesh hard enough to draw blood, but the grip lacked the strength to dislodge the hand wrapped around his heart.

The chains were still suppressing his power, reducing his desperate struggle to nothing more than a dying animal's final thrashing.

The demon's runes flared across his skin with desperate intensity, ancient magic activating in a futile attempt to repair what was being destroyed.

Crimson light spread across his torso like wildfire, trying to knit torn tissue and seal ruptured blood vessels.

The enchantments pulsed in rapid succession, drawing on the Baron's remaining life force to fuel healing that couldn't work fast enough.

Blood poured from the wound in his chest, cascading down his body in rivers that pooled on the floor around his knees.

The liquid steamed where it struck stone, releasing vapor that smelled of sulfur and rot.

Jack's grip tightened incrementally, fingers digging deeper into cardiac muscle as he prepared to complete the execution.

The Baron's eyes locked onto his face, the rage fading to reveal something approaching understanding.

This was how he died.

Not in glorious combat against a worthy opponent, defending his territory from invaders, or surrounded by loyal soldiers who would remember his final stand.

Executed like a criminal in front of witnesses who wouldn't even remember his name once the blood dried.

The heart tore free from the Baron's chest cavity with a sound like wet fabric ripping, bringing sections of major blood vessels with it.

The aorta separated from the heart's base, the vena cava tore away in ragged strips, and smaller arteries and veins snapped like overstressed cables.

Blood erupted from the massive wound, spraying across Jack's chest and face in arterial bursts that painted him crimson.

The organ continued beating in Jack's grip, muscle memory driving contractions even though it was no longer connected to the body it was designed to sustain.

Dark blood pumped across his fingers in rhythmic spurts, each pulse weaker than the last as the separated heart realized it no longer served any purpose.