I Died and Became a Noble's Heir-Chapter 454: Aspirations

Jack stood atop a mountain of corpses, Oscar held loosely in his right hand as blood dripped from the blade’s edge in steady rhythmic drops.

The bodies beneath his boots shifted slightly as he adjusted his weight, creating small cascades of cooling flesh and shattered bone that tumbled down the pile like a macabre avalanche.

Two hundred ninety-seven minotaurs.

The entire population of Floor Twenty-Three’s wasteland territory was systematically hunted down and executed over the course of an hour.

Jack’s demon army had herded them like cattle, driving the creatures toward predetermined kill zones where Jack waited with Oscar and an endless patience for slaughter.

The last survivor, the Alpha, lay at the base of the corpse pile, both arms severed at the shoulders.

The massive creature’s breathing came in ragged gasps, blood pooling beneath its body in quantities that should have killed it already.

But minotaurs had remarkable endurance, clinging to life through stubbornness even when death would have been a mercy.

The Alpha’s eyes were still sharp despite the agony. They fixed on Jack with a mixture of hatred and confusion.

"Why?" the Alpha rasped, its voice carrying the rough accent of creatures who learned speech late in life. "Why come here? Why slaughter my clan? We... we didn’t attack you first. We stayed in our territory. We followed the floor’s rules."

Jack looked down at the creature without particular malice or satisfaction. The Alpha was simply another obstacle, another resource to be converted into tokens and experience.

The fact that it could speak, had organized its clan into a functional society, and had tried to follow some code of conduct.

Though none of that mattered.

Power didn’t care about fairness.

The strong took what they wanted, and the weak died. That was the only rule that existed in Tartarus Spire.

"I need an army," Jack replied, his tone sounded relaxed despite the circumstances. "One besides my demons. Something for the plans I’m building."

The Alpha’s face showed genuine confusion. "Army? For what? You already command... thousands of demons. What could you possibly need more forces for?"

Jack’s red eyes gleamed behind his visor as he considered how much to reveal.

The Alpha was dying regardless. There was no tactical disadvantage to honesty when the listener would be dead in minutes.

"I’m going to seal all of Tartarus Spire," Jack said proudly. "Every floor from One to whatever the bottom is."

The Alpha made a sound that might have been a laugh if it wasn’t choked with blood. "You’re insane, you know that. And then what? Rule over an empty tower filled with bound monsters?"

"No." Jack’s smile widened behind his visor. "Then I’m going to kill Erebus."

The silence that followed was profound. Even the ambient sounds of the wasteland seemed to fade as the weight of that statement settled over the scene.

The Alpha stared at Jack with eyes that had gone wide with something approaching horror.

"Erebus," the creature repeated slowly, as if testing whether it had heard correctly. "The Primordial God of Darkness. One of the twelve original deities who shaped this world before recorded history began. The entity that even other gods fear to confront directly."

"That’s the one," Jack confirmed cheerfully.

"You’re insane." The Alpha’s voice carried absolute certainty. "Killing a Primordial God is beyond impossible. It’s a concept that doesn’t even make sense. You’d need a god-killing weapon, and those were all destroyed after the war between the Titans and the Gods. Or you’d need to be a god yourself, and you’re clearly mortal despite your power."

Jack crouched down, bringing himself closer to the Alpha’s eye level while still maintaining his position atop the corpse pile.

Then Jack ran that bloody hand through his hair, slicking it back.

The crimson streaks stood out against his white hair, making him look less like a mage and more like some ancient warrior.

"It’s all in due time," Jack said, his voice carrying that same calm confidence that had terrified so many enemies before.

"Plans within plans within plans. But you’re right about one thing. I’m not ready yet. I need more power, resources, and pieces on the board."

The Alpha’s expression shifted from horror to resignation. The creature had clearly realized something that Jack’s tone had been hinting at.

"But right now," Jack continued, standing back up and raising Oscar with casual ease, "you are bait."

The Alpha’s eyes widened as understanding finally dawned. "The Hydra and Stormfang. You’re using my clan’s bodies to lure them in. Using our deaths as... as bait for a trap."

"Exactly." Jack’s smile was visible even through his visor. "They’re starving. And desperate predators make mistakes. All I had to do was create an irresistible lure and wait for them to come to me."

"You’re a monster," the Alpha whispered.

"Maybe," Jack agreed. "Or maybe I’m just greedy. Either way, your part in this is done."

Oscar swung in a perfect arc, the blade moving with such speed that it seemed to cut the air itself. The Alpha’s head separated from its body, spraying blood that added another layer to Jack’s crimson coating.

The massive head tumbled down the corpse pile, coming to rest among the bodies of the Alpha’s clan members, its eyes already going glassy with death.

Jack stood in silence for a moment, then felt the familiar surge of system notifications flooding his vision:

[Minotaur Clan Eliminated]

[297 Minotaurs defeated]

[+742,500 EXP]

[+148,500 Death Tokens]

[Current Death Tokens: 57,547,250]

[Prince of Thunder - Level 6 (25,726,500/200,000,000 EXP)]

[Souls Available for Binding: 297 Minotaurs]

[Souls Bound: 114/500]

Jack dismissed the notifications with a thought, though he noted the numbers with satisfaction.

Nearly sixty million death tokens. Enough to fund significant purchases or bindings when the opportunity arose.

But the tokens and experience weren’t the primary goal of this exercise. Those were just bonuses.

The real purpose was the corpse pile beneath his feet and the trap it represented.

Jack surveyed his handiwork with the critical eye of an art critic.

The bodies were stacked approximately fifteen feet high at the center, spreading out in a rough circle thirty feet in diameter.

The blood had run down the sides in rivers, pooling on the ground in quantities visible from a distance.

The smell alone would carry for miles across the wasteland’s barren landscape.

Fresh meat, spilled blood, the particular scent that came from violent death.

All of it combines into an olfactory beacon that screams "food here" to every predator within range.

And Jack had made sure to position the pile in an open area with clear sightlines in all directions.

A perfect killing field, with him sitting at the center like a spider in a web.

Jack settled himself atop the corpse pile, finding a relatively stable position among the bodies.

Oscar rested across his knees, still coated in blood that was beginning to dry and darken. His red eyes scanned the horizon.

Kaedor and Loryn had withdrawn to positions several hundred meters away, hidden behind rock formations where they could observe without being immediately visible.

Jack had given them strict instructions: watch and do not interfere unless he specifically called for assistance.

Jack didn’t move except to occasionally adjust his position as the corpses beneath him settled and shifted.

He’d learned patience from his father, who’d taught him that the best hunters weren’t the fastest or strongest, but the ones who could wait longer than their prey’s caution lasted.

And Jack could wait a very long time when necessary.

Hours passed, and constant lighting rained down as Jack’s enhanced perception picked up movement on the horizon.

Jack’s smile widened as he watched them approach, his hand tightening slightly on Oscar’s hilt.