Steady, heavy footsteps echoed across the polished obsidian floor with a rhythm that sounded like cell doors slamming shut.

Every step Jack took sent ripples of sound through the chamber, the acoustics amplifying his presence in ways that made silence impossible.

At the chamber’s far end, coiled around seven stone pedestals arranged in a semicircle, waited the Moonveil Serpents.

A figure sat perched on a pillar’s top, thirty feet above the floor, legs dangling over the edge as he watched Jack.

The entity’s gaze radiated profound approval as Jack approached, reflecting the pride of a creator witnessing a masterpiece transcend its limitations.

Jack didn’t acknowledge Malakai’s presence beyond a glance that confirmed the entity’s location.

His attention remained fixed on the seven serpents coiled around their pedestals, his pace never slowing as he crossed the chamber’s vast expanse.

The lead serpent uncoiled from its pedestal.

The largest of the seven slid across polished stone with grace that belied its size, positioning itself between Jack and the other six serpents.

It stopped thirty feet from Jack’s position, its head rising to bring glowing eyes level with his gaze.

The serpent’s tongue flicked out, tasting the air as it assessed the human walking toward it with his hands buried in his pockets.

"Welcome, Soul Warden," the serpent stated, its voice resonating through the chamber with weight that made the air vibrate.

"You have completed the trials and reached the summit. The ancient pact awaits fulfillment, as was agreed in the age when Wardens ruled, and Titans walked the earth."

Jack’s footsteps didn’t slow.

The serpent’s gaze followed his movement, its substantial form subtly adjusting as it noted his lack of reaction.

Its tongue darted out once more, with increased velocity, conveying its bewilderment.

"The trials were meticulously designed to assess your capabilities," the serpent articulated, its tone imbued with a sense of formal ceremonial gravitas. "Nine distinct levels to ascertain your resilience, your adaptability, and your profound understanding of the Soul Warden’s purview. You have unequivocally demonstrated..."

Jack continued to walk past the serpent.

He passed within five feet of the massive serpent’s coiled body as if it were a decorative statue rather than an ancient guardian.

His hands remained in his pockets, his pace unchanged, his eyes fixed on the six serpents still positioned around their pedestals at the chamber’s far end.

The lead serpent’s head swiveled, tracking Jack’s movement with an expression that shifted from confusion to disbelief to rage in the span of seconds.

Its entire massive form tensed, scales rippling as muscles coiled in preparation for action.

"You dare..." it started, its voice rising with indignation that centuries of reverence had never prepared it to process.

A sudden, explosive acceleration propelled forty feet of silver-scaled muscle towards Jack’s back with a force capable of leveling a building in two.

The serpent’s jaws opened wide enough to swallow a man whole, fangs dripping with venom that hissed as drops struck the floor and began eating through solid obsidian.

The attack was overwhelming, the kind of assault that should have ended any fight before it truly began.

Jack’s form blurred. The temporal displacement technique carrying him through space without visible transition.

One moment walking forward with hands in pockets, the next standing directly in the serpent’s guard as those massive jaws snapped shut on empty air where he’d been a heartbeat before.

His right hand emerged from his pocket, fingers wrapping around the serpent’s upper jaw with a grip that stopped the creature’s momentum completely.

The impact should have broken bones, the serpent’s mass and velocity combining into a force that would have crushed normal flesh.

But Jack’s hand held firm, his fingers digging into scales designed to deflect blade strikes and magical assault.

His grip tightened, the pressure sufficient to crack the armored plating protecting the serpent’s jaw.

Then he slammed downward, using the serpent’s own mass against it as he redirected all that momentum toward the floor.

The impact was catastrophic.

The serpent’s head struck polished obsidian with force that shattered the stone beneath them, cracks spreading outward in a spiderweb pattern that covered dozens of meters.

The sound echoed through the chamber like thunder, the acoustic properties amplifying the collision until it resonated through the very pillars supporting the ceiling.

Jack’s left foot came down, boot pressing against the serpent’s skull to pin the creature against fractured stone.

The serpent thrashed, its massive body coiling and writhing as it tried to escape the restraint, but Jack’s weight kept its head immobilized despite their size difference.

He reached into his dimensional storage with his free hand, consciousness interfacing with the space where he kept essential equipment.

An obsidian bowl materialized in his grip, roughly two feet in diameter, its surface carved with script that matched the patterns on the chamber’s pillars.

Jack placed the bowl on the ground beside the pinned serpent’s head, the vessel settling against broken stone with a quiet scrape.

Then he summoned the sentient spear. It appeared in his right hand, black metal humming with anticipation that quickly shifted to confusion as it registered the situation.

{Wait, we’re not fighting properly? This feels more like... oh. Oh no. Are we doing THAT? Because I have opinions about...}

"Shut up, Oscar," Jack stated flatly, his tone carrying finality that cut off the weapon’s internal commentary.

He angled the spear downward, Oscar’s four-bladed tip pressed against the serpent’s throat, where the scales were thinner, and major blood vessels ran close to the surface.

The weapon’s edge pressed against armored flesh, not yet piercing but creating pressure.

"I am not here to play your games or prove my worth," Jack stated, his voice carrying across the chamber with certainty that made the words feel like fundamental truth. "I require your blood for the Soul Realm."

The lead serpent’s eyes blazed brighter, rage and humiliation warring with survival instinct as it processed being pinned by a creature a fraction of its size.

Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air rapidly as it started to feel an emotion it hadn’t felt in centuries.

"You dare..." it started, but Jack drove Oscar downward before the protest could be completed.

The four-bladed tip punctured scales and flesh, penetrating deep into the serpent’s throat to access the major arteries running beneath the armored exterior.

Silver-and-purple blood began flowing immediately, thick viscous liquid that steamed as it struck the air and pooled in the obsidian bowl. The serpent’s massive form convulsed, not from pain but from instinctive response to having its life force drained.

The other six serpents hissed, their bodies uncoiling from pedestals as they witnessed their leader being harvested like livestock.

But they didn’t attack or charge forward to rescue their companion.

They watched, their glowing eyes tracking every movement as Jack stood perfectly still with one hand on Oscar and one boot pinning their leader’s skull.

Malakai’s laugh echoed through the chamber, a dark sound that carried satisfaction bordering on joy.

The entity remained perched on his pillar, his translucent form flickering between states as silver veins pulsed with increased intensity.

"The King has arrived," Malakai called out, his voice resonating with authority that made even the ancient serpents flinch. "You know your end of the deal. Protection from the Titans in exchange for your blood when the Soul Warden demands it."

The lead serpent’s eyes shifted toward Malakai, recognition and resignation bleeding through the rage. Its voice emerged as a rasp, vocal cords struggling to function while Oscar’s blade remained embedded in its throat.

"The pact... was made... in a different age," it managed, each word clearly causing discomfort. "When Titans walked... and Wardens ruled... we agreed to this... burden."

Jack’s expression didn’t change; his boot maintained pressure, keeping the creature immobilized, while silver-purple blood continued to flow into the bowl. He didn’t respond to the serpent’s words, acknowledge the historical context, or express sympathy for the ancient agreement being enforced.

He patiently awaited, his demeanor exuding an unwavering conviction that his intentions would come to fruition.

The lead serpent’s struggles weakened as blood loss began to affect its consciousness, and its movements grew sluggish despite its supernatural constitution.

The obsidian bowl was half-full now, the liquid within glowing faintly.

"You can offer it willingly and be at peace," Jack stated, his eyes tracking from the lead serpent to the six others watching from their pedestals.

"Or I will drag all seven of you to Tartarus Spire myself, and I will harvest you piece by piece in the dark."

The mention of the Spire created an immediate reaction.

All six serpents recoiled, their massive forms pulling back against their pedestals as if physically struck.

Their eyes widened, the glowing orbs reflecting fear that transcended simple self-preservation and touched on something deeper.