Chapter 106: Stand up when Daddy talks to you
Five days had passed since the lake.
Jack woke before dawn, his ribs no longer screaming when he breathed.
[Next time maybe don’t let someone so strong punch you in the chest.]
The memory of that single strike made his skin prickle. He rolled his shoulders, to make sure he wasn’t in any more pain.
The palace corridors were silent as a tomb, guards stationed at their posts like statues. Jack’s boots made no sound on the polished marble as he made his way to his study.
Chiron’s words, I’ll be watching this war of yours, still burned behind his eyes with the persistence of branded memory.
Jack didn’t know why, but Chiron was interested with Jack.
The key slid into the lock with a satisfying click. Reality bent around the edges, shadows deepening until they became doorways.
Darkness folded inward like a giant piece of origami. Slowly disappearing after Jack went through.
The air smelled of scorched metal and blood. A deep vibration hummed beneath his boots, as if the Spire itself had a heartbeat.
[Welcome back]
[Local gossip: off the charts.]
’Good to be missed,’ Jack said dryly, though he could already feel the difference in the atmosphere.
The Eternal Coliseum opened around him like the maw of some primordial beast. Last time he’d left the crowd buzzing with curiosity and unease.
Conversations stuttered and died as hundreds of heads snapped in his direction. The whispers started immediately, rolling through the stands like wildfire through dry grass.
[Multiple entities acknowledge your presence]
[Status: Observed]
Jack caught fragments in a dozen different languages.
"Soul Warden..."
"Human..."
A few demons actually turned away, suddenly finding their claws or the arena floor fascinating. Others leaned forward, hunger naked in their inhuman faces.
The attention felt like standing in a spotlight with a thousand knives about to drop on his head.
He climbed toward the spectators’ tier he’d used before, Corvin perched on his shoulder.
’Think they missed us?’ Jack asked.
Corvin only gave a low croak.
’Yeah I’m sure we’re famous.’
[Probability of ambush: moderate]
[Also, you have fans now. Try not to sign autographs.]
Jack snorted and settled into an empty row overlooking the arena.
The seats around him remained conspicuously vacant, creating a buffer zone around him that was louder than any conversation or altercation would be.
Below, two hulking creatures fought below while the crowd roared approval, but Jack could feel attention like heat on his back.
The denizens of the Third Tier were a motley collection of nightmares. Scaled humanoids with tails. They were green, scaly and slightly slimy. Spikes went down their back and tail.
Beyond the empty space around Jack, the third tier were primarily in the stands around him.
Most kept their distance.
Word had spread about what happened to creatures foolish enough to challenge a Soul Warden directly.
Unlike Jack, they remembered the last Soul Warden.
The binding ritual wasn’t just death, it was spiritual slavery, consciousness trapped and compressed until free will became a memory.
For beings who valued their independence above almost everything else, it was a fate worse than death.
But fear, Jack had learned, could cut both ways. Some creatures were smart enough to stay away. Others were stupid enough or desperate enough to test their luck.
The sulfur tang in the air grew stronger as more spectators filed in for the next match.
Thunder rolled up from the arena as the current combatants tore into each other with primal fury.
Blood spattered on the obsidian sand.
Jack let the chaos wash over him, using the noise as cover while he observed.
The Spire operated on rules he was still learning, politics written in violence and respect earned through demonstration of power.
His reputation was growing, but reputation without backing was just a target painted on his chest.
A cluster of imp-like creatures in the rows below kept shooting glances his way, their whispered conversation too quiet to overhear.
They were debating wether approaching him would result in profit or dismemberment.
[You’re becoming a local celebrity. Congratulations on your newfound fame among interdimensional murderers.]
’Every career has its perks,’ Jack replied, watching a particularly bold demon actually point in his direction before his companion slapped the gesture down.
The duel in the arena ended with a hiss of molten stone and a roar from the stands, but the energy around Jack felt different now.
A ripple of silence spread outward from around him.
Conversations faltered.
Clawed hands tightened on railings.
Jack could feel them staring at him now.
Corvin shifted on his shoulder, feathers rising on instinct.
[Alert: Unregistered medium-level presence approaching you.]
’Direction?’
[Behind you.]
’Wait, medium? So it’s not a strong presence.’
A sharp pop cracked the air like breaking glass.
Shadow pooled in the aisle two rows back. The crowd drew a collective breath, some beings actually scrambling away from the manifestation.
The creature that stepped forward was seven feet of scorched-iron muscle etched with ember-bright runes on his body.
Each stride made the obsidian floor creak ominously. His grin bared teeth like broken daggers.
"Well, well," he drawled, his voice was like grinding stone on stone. "Look what wandered into my house. A little human Soul Warden, sitting pretty where he doesn’t belong."
He jabbed a clawed thumb into his chest. "Name’s Daddy. Daddy of the Third Tier. Remember it when you’re begging for mercy. I ain’t gonna give you."
[Scan Complete: Terror-class entity, self-designated alias "Daddy of the Third Tier."]
[Ego: excessive]
[Intellect: questionable.]
’Daddy? Is this guy a joke?’
Jack didn’t rise from his seat.
Around them, the crowd was starting to take notice.
Conversations were dying as spectators realized they were about to witness either a binding or a slaughter.
’Really? Daddy?’ Jack asked the System.
[Regrettably. Local naming appears to favor psychological intimidation over creativity.]
The Terror swaggered closer. The stench of scorched metal and sulfur rolled off him in waves.
Up close, Jack could see that the runes carved into his flesh were still weeping what looked like molten copper.
"Stand up when Daddy talks to you, meat," the creature snarled, close enough now that Jack could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
"Or are you scared, little Warden? Maybe I heard some stories about what happens to pretty boys who think they can play with the real monsters?"
The insult hung in the air. Everyone was waiting to see how the Soul Warden would respond to such blatant disrespect.
’Wow, even his insults are bad.’
Jack tilted his head, his expression was as flat as winter stone. The silence stretched until it became uncomfortable.
’Corvin?’ he said without moving his lips.
The raven gave a low, dangerous croak.
His feathers shimmered with violet light, shadows seeming to bend toward him like iron filings drawn to a magnet.
"Not even going to draw a weapon?" Daddy sneered, spreading his arms wide in a mocking gesture of vulnerability. "Pathetic. Guess I’ll have to break you in front of all these fine folks. Show them what a real predator looks like when he’s done playing with his food."
Jack exhaled slowly, a faint smile ghosting across his lips like the first crack in ice. ’Handle it.’