I Died and Became a Noble's Heir-Chapter 292: Snap!!!

’Did I get taller? Is that why he seems so small?’

Golden eyes tracked across the assembled mercenaries with focus that made hardened killers want to look away.

But it was the weight that hit hardest. Pure power radiating from him like heat from a forge, making the air itself feel heavier.

’This is who I came to fight?’ Marcus thought, horror dawning. ’This is the boy who was in a coma?’

The cloaked figure moved to stand beside Jack. Then, he reached up and pulled back the hood.

Pale flesh. Blank white eyes that held no pupils.

"Demon," someone whispered. The word spread through the mercenary ranks like wildfire. "That’s a fucking demon!!!"

Terror rippled through fifteen thousand men who’d thought they were fighting a conventional war.

Another portal opened, smaller this time. A man stepped through with a three-headed hellhound at his heels.

Red eyes swept across the scene with obvious amusement, a smile playing at his lips.

"The dome is secure," the man announced, his voice carrying easily despite not shouting. "Completely concealed. Nothing that happens here can be seen or heard from outside. You have complete privacy for... whatever you have planned."

His mouth curved like a wolfish smile. "Perfect."

Jack nodded once, then gestured. "Bring Father Caelen."

The red-eyed man’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he moved so fast that none of the mercenaries could track him, vanishing in a blur of speed that left afterimages.

Marcus found his voice, though it came out rougher than intended. "Jack Kaiser. We can negotiate. I have..."

"Be silent," Jack interrupted, voice quiet but carrying absolute authority. "You’ll speak when I give you permission. Not before."

The words hit like someone’s drunk daddy.

Marcus’s mouth snapped shut despite his attempts to continue, something pressing against his throat that made speech impossible.

Minutes passed in tense silence.

Mercenaries shifted nervously, hands on weapons but no one willing to make the first move. Not with a demon standing beside their target.

They were trapped in an ice dome with no escape.

The ice wall rippled, a section becoming permeable as the red-eyed man returned. He moved fast rather than blindingly quick, and beside him walked a man in priest’s robes.

The priest looked perhaps fifty years old, weathered features speaking of a hard life, but eyes that held genuine faith.

He walked calmly despite being brought into a dome filled with fifteen thousand hostile soldiers, with a serene expression fitted across his face.

When he saw Jack, he dropped to one knee immediately, head bowed. "My lord. You summoned me?"

"Rise," Jack commanded. Father Caelen obeyed.

"Tell me what led to this war. Everything that happened while I was away."

The priest’s expression hardened slightly as he recounted events. His voice remained level, professional, but anger simmered beneath it.

"Marcus Thorne brought fifteen thousand mercenaries to our gates," he began. "But before the assault, House Starfell withdrew their eight hundred troops. The emissary abandoned his oath and fled south."

"I’m aware," Jack said quietly. "What else?"

"During the war council," Father Caelen continued, "the Starfell emissary challenged Lady Octavia’s authority. Claimed a woman had no business commanding troops. He also struck Seraphina. He slapped her across the face in front of the assembled representatives."

The temperature inside the dome dropped further, though not from the demon’s magic. The air itself seemed to freeze in response to Jack’s fury.

"He. Struck. Seraphina," Jack repeated, each word precise as a knife cut.

"Yes, my lord," Father Caelen confirmed. "Lady Octavia showed him the error in the ways. But the Starfell forces still withdrew, leaving our defenses weakened."

Jack was silent for a long moment, his golden eyes stared off into the distance. Then he looked at Marcus.

"You allied with House Starfell. Coordinated with them. Used them as part of your assault plan."

Marcus’s throat worked, trying to speak, but Jack’s earlier command still held him silent.

"You may speak," Jack said, tone carrying dark amusement. "Briefly."

"I..." Marcus gasped, air rushing back. "I had nothing to do with that emissary’s actions. What he did to your servant was his choice, not mine."

"Your servant," Jack repeated, voice dropping to something dangerous. "You think Seraphina is my servant?"

He took a step forward. Marcus instinctively stepped back.

"She’s family," Jack continued, his golden eyes blazing with fury. "She’s been with House Kaiser since before I was born. She helped raise me, protected me, stood guard over my comatose body for ten years. And you think I’ll accept ’not my responsibility’ as an answer?"

Another portal tore open beside Jack, this one larger and lined with shadows that writhed with malevolent energy.

A skeletal figure stepped through first, empty eye sockets somehow more terrifying in the dome’s strange light.

Behind him stumbled the Starfell emissary and his eight hundred troops.

They’d been changed. Pristine white and silver armor was torn and dirtied. Their faces were hollow with terror, eyes wide from the things they had seen.

The Starfell emissary fell to his knees the moment he saw Jack, his earlier smugness was completely absent. "Please," he whispered, his voice was barely audible. "Please, I didn’t know..."

"Didn’t know what?" Jack asked with false courtesy.

"That abandoning your oaths would have consequences? That striking someone under my family’s protection would anger me?"

He gestured to the skeletal figure standing silent beside the portal. "My associate here found you fleeing through the southern forest. Quite the impressive retreat."

Jack’s smile was sharp enough to cut through paper. "I have a proposition for you, emissary. A game, if you will. Something to make this interesting."

The Starfell emissary looked up, desperate hope warring with terror.

"You and your eight hundred soldiers," Jack continued, gesturing broadly to encompass both forces.

"Fight Marcus Thorne’s fifteen thousand mercenaries. Bring me his head. Do that, and I’ll consider your transgression forgiven."

The dome went absolutely silent. Fifteen thousand mercenaries processed that they’d just been turned into opposition for a death match.

"I...." the emissary stammered. "My lord, that’s impossible. Eight hundred against fifteen thousand? We’ll be slaughtered!"

"Then you’ll die having at least attempted to make amends," Jack replied with casual indifference. "But you’re right. The numbers are quite unfair."

He paused, as if considering. "Perhaps I should even the odds. Pho?"

The demon stepped forward, approaching the Starfell emissary with the inevitability of winter itself. The noble backed away on his knees, hands raised in futile defense.

"Please! I’ll do it! I’ll fight them! Just give me a chance to..."

SNAP!

Pho’s fingers moved too fast to see, only the sound of him snapping his fingers could be heard.

Crystallization spread throughout his hand.

The emissary’s hands turned translucent, then solid crystal, in the span of a single heartbeat.

"No," the emissary breathed, staring at his transformed hands with incomprehension. "No, no, no..."

CRACK!

Pho snapped his fingers. The crystallized hands shattered like dropped glass.

The emissary’s screams filled the dome, he was agonizing as he stared at the stumps where his hands had been.

No blood flowed, the ice had cauterized even as it destroyed his hands leaving only smooth frozen flesh.

"AHHHHHHH!" The noble’s shrieks echoed off ice walls, reverberating until the sound seemed to come from everywhere.

"MY HANDS! YOU MONSTER! YOU FUCKING DEMON!"