Chapter 156: Why Would You Want to Stop It?
The weight pressing down on Jack’s shoulders intensified as the demon god leaned forward, his massive frame shifting on the throne.
The joints creaked, a sound like grinding teeth that echoed through the vast chamber. Those green flames burning in his eyes tracked every micro-expression on Jack’s face.
Jack forced himself to stand straight despite the pressure. He’d faced death enough times to recognize when showing weakness would get him killed.
This wasn’t like standing before Draven, that had felt solemn, almost ceremonial. This felt dangerous in a way that made his instincts scream.
The demonic essence flowing through his veins pulsed in response to the god’s presence. Not painfully, but with a resonance that felt almost like recognition.
As if some part of him that wasn’t quite human anymore understood what sat on that throne.
’Focus,’ Jack thought, pushing aside the unsettling realization. ’Get what you came for and figure out the rest later.’
"Are you Dreknar?" Jack asked, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. "Dreknar the Black Flame?"
The demon god’s expression shifted. The predatory interest sharpened into something more focused, more dangerous.
His lips curved into a smile that revealed those perfect white teeth again, a stark contrast against his jet-black skin.
"So the little lamb knows my name." Dreknar’s voice carried amusement now, though it still made Jack’s chest vibrate.
"Tell me, human, where did you hear that title? It’s been centuries since anyone used it in my presence."
"Does it matter?" Jack countered, keeping his tone neutral. He wasn’t about to explain that his system had provided the information. "I need answers about the war happening outside. The Aurion and Thal’Gorin have been killing each other for four years, and I need to know why."
Dreknar threw his head back and laughed.
The sound was massive, filling the throne room like thunder rolling through a valley.
The black flames in the lanterns flickered violently, and the bone throne shifted beneath him as if the structure itself was reacting to his amusement.
"The war!" Dreknar’s laughter continued, each boom making the red drapes sway. "You disturbed my solitude, consumed sacred fruit, survived Maurice’s little test, and stood before a god... to ask about a war?"
Jack’s jaw tightened. "People are dying."
"People are always dying," Dreknar said, his amusement fading slightly but his smile remained.
"Especially demons. We fight. It’s what we do. It’s in our nature as much as breathing or eating." He gestured broadly with one massive hand. "The Aurion and Thal’Gorin have probably forgotten what started their conflict by now. They fight because they’re demons, and demons fight."
"That’s not good enough," Jack pressed. "There has to be a reason. Some catalyst that..."
"A catalyst?" Dreknar interrupted, leaning forward again. The movement brought his face closer, and Jack could see the scars crossing his chest more clearly now.
White lines against black skin, each one telling a story of violence that had somehow managed to wound a god.
"You want me to explain why low-grade demons are killing each other over some petty territorial dispute?"
"Yes."
"Why should I care?" Dreknar’s tone lost its amusement entirely, becoming flat and cold. "Those demons are insects. Ants fighting over crumbs. Their wars, their lives, their deaths, none of it matters to me. They pray to me because I allow it, not because I pay attention to their pathetic squabbles."
Jack felt frustration building in his chest. This wasn’t going how he’d hoped. He’d expected resistance, maybe even hostility, but not complete indifference.
Dreknar genuinely didn’t care about the demons killing each other in his name.
’If he won’t help with the war, maybe he’ll help with something that affects him directly.’
"Fine," Jack said, letting some of his frustration bleed into his voice. "Then answer a different question. One that does involve you."
Dreknar’s eyebrow raised slightly, the green flames in his eyes flickering with renewed interest. "Oh? And what question is that, little lamb?"
Jack reached up and touched his chest, right over his heart. The blood staining his armor had dried hours ago, but the memory of consuming demon hearts was still fresh.
The taste. The texture. The way his body had responded to the demonic essence flooding his system.
"What’s going to happen to me?" Jack asked directly. "If I keep consuming demon hearts. If I keep absorbing their essence. What am I becoming?"
The throne room fell silent.
Dreknar’s amusement vanished completely, replaced by something that looked almost like genuine interest. He leaned back in his throne, one massive hand stroking his chin as those green flames studied Jack with newfound intensity.
"You’re human," Dreknar said slowly, as if the realization was just hitting him. "Actually human. Not some half-breed or corrupted soul. Pure mortal flesh."
His smile returned, but this time it carried something darker. "And you’ve been eating demon hearts."
He paused for a moment.
"Your body is changing," Dreknar interrupted, his voice carrying certainty that made Jack’s blood run cold.
"Every heart you consume, every drop of demon blood you swallow, pushes you further from your humanity. The essence doesn’t just give you power, little lamb. It rewrites what you are at the most fundamental level."
Jack’s hand clenched into a fist. "How long?"
"How long until you’re no longer human?" Dreknar’s laugh was shorter this time, sharp and cruel. "That depends entirely on how much you consume. Could be months. Could be years. Could be tomorrow if you’re stupid enough to gorge yourself."
He gestured at Jack with one clawed finger. "But the process has already started. I can smell it on you. That sweet corruption seeping into your bones."
He’d known something was changing, the way he felt comfortable in Dreknar’s presence, the way his body responded to demonic essence, the increasing ease with which he consumed hearts without revulsion.
But hearing it confirmed, hearing that he was actively losing his humanity...
’No,’ Jack thought, forcing the panic down.
"How do I stop it?" Jack asked, his voice steadier than he felt.
Dreknar tilted his head, studying Jack like a particularly interesting specimen.
"Stop it? Why would you want to stop it? Becoming a demon would make you stronger. Faster. More powerful than any human could dream of being." His grin widened. "You’d live for centuries. Your wounds would heal in hours instead of days. You’d be able to wield demonic magic that would make your current abilities look like parlor tricks."
"I don’t want to become a demon."
"Then you have four options," Dreknar said, raising one massive hand to count on his clawed fingers.
"Option one: Feed into it. Embrace the transformation. Consume more hearts, more blood, more essence until the change completes itself. Fastest path to power, but you lose your humanity entirely."
He lowered one finger.
"Option two: Stop eating hearts completely. Starve the demonic essence in your system. It’ll fade over time, though you’ll lose the power it’s granted you. Might take years to purge it all, and there’s no guarantee you’ll ever be fully human again."
Another finger lowered.
"Option three: Eat other hearts. Strong creatures, dragons, phoenixes, celestial beasts. Their essence will balance out the demonic corruption. Keep yourself in equilibrium. Half-demon, half-human, forever walking the line between both."
The third finger dropped.
"Option four: Get a blessing from a demon god." Dreknar’s green eyes burned brighter. "Someone powerful enough to control the transformation."
Jack’s heart rate spiked. A blessing from a demon god.
Jack’s heart rate spiked.
"You," Jack said, meeting those burning green eyes. "I want a blessing from you."