I Died and Became a Noble's Heir-Chapter 301: Save your family

Reality folded around him as Abyssal Steps tore through space, carrying him across distances that most people couldn’t follow.

[Thunder Mantle Active]

Lightning crackled across his body in patterns that left afterimages burning in the air.

The world blurring past as he ran through the forest while using spatial manipulation, allowing him to travel at inhuman speeds.

Jack covered the distance in a couple hours.

His golden eyes locked onto the largest tent in the encampment.

It was covered in expensive silk.

No guards were present because everyone had already died.

Annabelle was inside.

He could feel it with certainty that transcended normal senses.

Four guards stood watch.

They never saw him coming.

[Infernal Conversion Active]

Black scales erupted across his skin like armor growing from within.

Obsidian plates that drank light covering every inch of exposed flesh from neck to fingertips.

His hands became claws.

He hit the tent’s exterior wall at full speed.

His hands punched through silk like it was paper, piercing the first guard’s back.

His fingers closed around a beating heart before the man could even register the attack.

Jack squeezed like he was popping a gallon with a nail.

The heart ruptured between his claws. Blood sprayed inside the tent as the guard’s body convulsed and then went limp.

Jack ripped his hands back through the tent wall, tearing a hole large enough to step through.

The second guard spun toward the sound, sword half-drawn, mouth opening to shout a warning.

Jack appeared next to him before he could say anything.

His claws found his throat and ripped everything clean out.

Blood fountained as his throat was left torn open.

The guard collapsed, he was still alive, his hands clutched at the ruin of his neck.

He was gurgling, drowning in his own blood.

The third guard charged.

Battle cry tearing from his throat as he committed fully to the attack.

His sword raised high, coming down in an arc meant to split Jack’s skull.

Abyssal Steps carried him three feet to the left.

The third guard’s sword kept falling. He swung as hard as he could before his sword went straight through his head.

His sword cut clean through bone and flesh alike. Cutting clean through like a freshly sharpened knife through paper.

The third guard stared at what he’d done. His hands trembled on his sword hilt.

The fourth guard rushed in from outside, drawn by the sounds of combat.

His face went pale seeing the carnage, but he remembered his training. His spear thrust toward Jack’s back.

Jack spun, his clawed hand caught the spear shaft, wrenched it aside, then drove forward into the fourth guard’s gut.

"AAAGGGHHHH!!!"

’WHAT IS HE DOING!! IT HURTS SO BAD!’

Jack ripped his guts clean out as they sprawled on the ground.

The guard wreathed in pain.

Jack’s other hand shot forward, a palm strike to the guard’s chest that sent him flying backward through the tent wall.

The mercenary’s body crashed through silk and kept going, tumbling across dirt before coming to rest in a heap.

The third guard who’d killed his comrade, and Joseph Meredith cowering near the tent’s back corner with Annabelle held in front of him like a shield.

Jack turned toward the third guard.

The mercenary raised his sword. He tried to find courage.

His weapon trembled, his breathing ragged, his eyes darting between Jack’s scaled form and the three corpses painting the tent red.

Jack closed the distance in a single stride.

His clawed hand shot out, catching the guard’s face, his fingers wrapped around his skull. The mercenary’s sword fell from nerveless fingers as Jack’s grip tightened.

Bones creaked. Then shattered under the pressure.

The guard’s skull collapsed inward with a wet crunch.

Brain matter squeezed between Jack’s claws as he crushed the man’s head like overripe fruit.

Jack released the corpse, letting it crumple to join the others.

Then his red eyes found Joseph.

The noble had Annabelle pressed against his chest, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. His other hand held a knife to her throat. The blade trembled against her skin, nicking flesh, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Stay back, demon!" Joseph’s voice cracked, pitched high with terror. "I’ll kill her! I swear I’ll fucking kill her!"

Annabelle’s eyes were wide. Her face was pale. But she wasn’t struggling.

Jack said nothing. He just stood there.

Black scales drinking the tent’s dim light. Blood dripping from claws that had just torn through four trained soldiers like they were made of paper.

"I mean it!" Joseph’s voice climbed higher, breaking into something resembling a sob. "One more step and she dies!"

Jack blinked.

Reality folded. He ceased existing in front of Joseph and manifested directly in the noble’s face.

Red eyes staring into Joseph’s wide, terrified gaze from perhaps six inches away.

Joseph’s hand jerked. The knife started moving toward Annabelle’s throat.

Jack blinked again.

Appeared behind Joseph. His clawed hand shot out, caught Joseph’s knife arm at the elbow.

He squeezed hard.

The joint snapped with a sound like green wood breaking.

Joseph’s scream tore through the tent as his arm bent backward at an angle that limbs shouldn’t go.

Jack’s other hand found Joseph’s shoulder. He planted his hand and pulled as hard as he could.

The arm came off.

Raw strength overcoming meat and bone and sinew until the limb separated from the body in a spray of blood that painted Annabelle’s back.

Joseph collapsed, his remaining hand clutching at the stump where his right arm used to be.

"AGGGHH!!!! MY ARM!!! WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO??!!!"

The sound of someone’s mind shattering under pain beyond comprehension.

Annabelle stumbled forward, away from Joseph, her small body shaking.

She spun, saw the scaled demon that had just torn a man’s arm off, and her eyes went wide with terror.

She was scared for her life.

Jack’s clawed hand reached out slowly.

He gently touched the top of her head and patted twice.

Careful not to let his talons scratch her skin.

"It will all be fine, little one," Jack’s voice came out deeper than normal, distorted slightly by the transformation, but still recognizably his.

Annabelle’s eyes focused. Really looked at the scaled creature before her. Saw past the demonic armor to the golden eyes beneath.

"Jack?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

He nodded once. Then leaned down and kissed her forehead, scales receding just enough around his lips.

"One minute," Jack said quietly. "I need to finish something."

He straightened, turning back toward Joseph. The noble had tried crawling toward the tent’s exit, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

His remaining hand clawed at the dirt. His screams reduced to whimpers.

Jack reached into his system storage.

Reality rippled as he withdrew a greatsword.

Joseph saw the blade. Saw his death approaching.

He found some reserve of strength and lunged for the exit.

Made it perhaps three feet.

Jack’s blade came down.

The greatsword severed Joseph’s head in a single stroke.

The noble’s body collapsed mid-crawl, head rolling away to rest against the tent wall.

Jack picked up the head by its hair, held it up briefly to ensure it was properly separated, then opened his system storage again. The head vanished into whatever space the system maintained, preserved for later use.

He turned back to Annabelle, dismissing the greatsword.

The black scales covering his body began receding.

Sinking back into flesh like they’d never existed.

Within seconds, he stood as himself again—white hair, golden eyes, but human.

Jack offered his arm in the formal style nobles used when escorting ladies. "Shall we go home?"

Annabelle stared at his offered arm for a long moment. At the blood still coating his hands. At the four corpses painting the tent red. At Joseph’s headless body.

Then she wrapped her small arm around his, holding tight, and nodded.

They walked out of the tent together. Past the carnage. Through the abandoned camp. Into the evening sun that painted the world gold.