CHAPTER 180: THAT, IS A VERY COMPLICATED QUESTION

Jack’s eyes opened to a canvas.

Not the cavern ceiling with its pulsing Aethrium crystals.

The worn fabric of a tent stretched overhead, swaying slightly in a breeze he could hear but not feel.

His body felt wrong. Not injured exactly, but hollow.

Like he’d been emptied out and only partially refilled. Every muscle ached with a deep exhaustion.

’What... what happened?’ Jack thought, his mind struggling to piece together fragmented memories. The titan. That voice in his head. The crushing pressure that had felt like his skull was being slowly compressed. Then... nothing. Just darkness.

He tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. Pain lanced through his head, sharp and sudden, like someone had driven an ice pick through his temple. He gasped, one hand flying to his forehead.

"Easy, Jack." S’s voice drifted from somewhere to his left, smooth and unhurried as always. "You’ve been unconscious for quite some time. Your body needs a moment to remember how to function properly."

Jack turned his head slowly and found S sitting on a stool near the tent entrance. He looked exactly as he always did.

Immaculate black suit, not a hair out of place, peeling a tangerine with those perfectly manicured fingers.

"How long?" Jack’s voice came out as a rasp, his throat dry as desert sand.

"We’ll get to that," S said, offering a segment of tangerine. "First, drink some water. You’re dehydrated."

A waterskin sat beside Jack’s bedroll. He grabbed it with shaking hands and drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. It tasted like the best thing he’d ever consumed.

As the water cleared the fog from his mind, Jack became aware of other details. He was still wearing his armor.

Outside, he could hear the crackle of a fire and the distant sounds of... movement? Voices?

"Where are we?" Jack asked, setting down the waterskin.

"About two miles from the valley," S replied, popping another tangerine segment into his mouth. "I thought it prudent to move you somewhere more secure while you recovered. Kyren helped carry you. He’s been standing guard outside this entire time. Very dedicated servant you have there."

Jack nodded absently, his attention drawn inward as system notifications suddenly flooded his vision.

[DING!]

[Contract Fulfillment: COMPLETE]

[All designated demons have signed binding contracts]

[Demon Army: 5,647]

[Aurion Clan: 3,421 demons]

[Thal’Gorin Clan: 2,226 demons]

Jack’s eyes widened. Five thousand, six hundred and forty-seven demons. He’d known both clans were substantial, but seeing the actual number laid out before him was staggering.

A real, genuine army that now answered to him.

Before he could fully process that revelation, more notifications appeared.

[DING!]

[Congratulations! You have subjugated your first demon army!]

[This achievement has been noted by powers beyond mortal comprehension]

[Malakai approves of your choice]

[The Abyssal Sovereign approves of your choice]

[Total Reputation Gained: +125,000]

Jack stared at the notifications, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. The words didn’t make sense. They couldn’t make sense.

"Malakai?" Jack whispered, his voice barely audible. "The previous Soul Warden?"

His thoughts raced. He didn’t know much about Malakai, only that he’d been the Soul Warden before Jack.

The position had passed to Jack, which meant... what? That Malakai had died? Disappeared? Failed somehow?

But the system was telling him that Malakai approved of his actions. Present tense. As if the previous Soul Warden was still alive, still watching, still... what? Judging him?

’How is that possible?’ Jack thought, his hands trembling slightly. ’When a new Soul Warden is chosen, doesn’t that mean the old one is gone? Dead? How can Malakai still be alive to approve or disapprove of anything?’

And who the hell was the Abyssal Sovereign?

This was the second time seeing that name now.

If Malakai was still alive, then what did that mean for Jack?

Was he supposed to eventually meet his predecessor? Report to him? Or was this some kind of test, with the previous Soul Warden watching to see if Jack was worthy of the title?

And what happened to Soul Wardens who weren’t deemed worthy?

"S," Jack said, his voice stronger now despite the turmoil in his mind. "How long have I been unconscious?"

The contract demon finished his tangerine, carefully disposing of the peel in a small bag that appeared from nowhere. When he finally met Jack’s gaze, his red eyes carried an unusual seriousness.

"Three weeks," S said simply.

"What?"

"Three weeks," S repeated. "Twenty-one days, to be precise. You collapsed in the cavern after the titan made contact with your mind. The damage was... extensive. Your consciousness essentially shut down to protect itself from complete fragmentation."

Jack’s mind reeled. Three weeks. He’d lost three weeks.

Anything could have happened in that time. Pho could have attacked. The clans could have descended into chaos. The entire situation could have spiraled completely out of control.

"Why didn’t you wake me?" Jack demanded, anger creeping into his voice. "Use some kind of magic, or..."

"Because waking you prematurely would have killed you," S interrupted, his voice sharp enough to cut through Jack’s rising panic. "Your mind needed time to heal, Jack. The titan’s presence in your consciousness did damage that no amount of magical intervention could fix instantly. You had to recover naturally, or not at all."

S stood, brushing invisible dust from his suit. "Besides, the situation remained stable in your absence. Both clans completed their contract signings within the first week. Seryth and Nyx’ira maintained order, though I suspect the latter is... less than pleased with her current circumstances."

"What happened to Nyx’ira?" Jack asked, though part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

"She tried to give her people a choice," S said, a hint of dark amusement in his voice. "The contracts disagreed with that interpretation of your orders. She lost most of her sight as punishment before she convinced the guards to comply."

Jack felt something twist in his gut. He’d known the contracts were harsh, and had understood they would enforce his commands absolutely.

But hearing about the actual consequences, about Nyx’ira being blinded for trying to preserve even a shred of her people’s autonomy...

’This is what you wanted,’ a cold voice whispered in the back of his mind. ’Absolute control. Total obedience. This is the price of power.’

Jack pushed the thought away. He couldn’t afford guilt right now. Not when there were so many other questions demanding answers.

"The contracts are complete," Jack said, more to himself than to S. "Five thousand demons bound to me. That’s... that’s more than I expected."

"The clans were larger than you thought," S agreed. "Many demons live in the deeper tunnels and chambers beneath the valley. Not everyone is a warrior. But they all signed. Every single one."

Jack nodded slowly, trying to wrap his mind around commanding that many lives. Five thousand, six hundred and forty-seven demons who would follow his orders or suffer the consequences.

It was power beyond anything he’d imagined when he first entered this floor.

But with that power came questions. Dangerous questions that the recent notifications had only amplified.

Jack looked at S, at the contract demon who had guided him through this entire process, who had provided the contracts that now bound thousands of demons to Jack’s will.

S, who always seemed to know more than he let on, who spoke with authority that suggested connections far beyond what a demon should possess.

S, who was his guardian deity now, though Jack still didn’t fully understand what that meant.

"S," Jack said, his yellow eyes fixed on the contract demon’s red ones. "I need you to answer something honestly."

"I’m always honest, Jack," S replied with a slight smile. "Though perhaps not always forthcoming with every detail."

Jack ignored the semantic dodge. The question burned in his mind, demanding to be asked even though he wasn’t sure he was ready for the answer.

"Is Malakai dead?"

The silence that followed was absolute.

S’s smile faded, replaced by an expression Jack had never seen on his face. Perhaps it was just acknowledgment that Jack had finally asked the right question.

S reached into his jacket and pulled out another tangerine, beginning to peel it with deliberate slowness. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but carried a weight that made the air in the tent feel heavy.

"That," S said softly, "is a very complicated question."