Chapter 170: The Choice Has Been Made
"There has to be another way."
"There isn’t," S said flatly. "Not if you want to maintain any control over what you’re becoming. The choices are simple: accept Dreknar’s task and kill Vok’thar, or refuse and hope you can balance your demonic essence through other means. Which, based on what you’ve told me about the options Dreknar provided, means either starving yourself of demon hearts and losing power, or consuming other creatures’ hearts to maintain equilibrium."
Jack knew S was right. He hated it, but the logic was sound. "If I kill Vok’thar and help the Aurion win, what guarantee do I have they won’t turn on me afterward?"
"Fear and respect," S said simply. "If you’re strong enough to kill a war chief and a champion, if you can lead them to victory in a war they’ve been losing for four years, they’ll follow you. Not out of love, but out of the understanding that opposing you would be suicide."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is simple," S said, his smile returning. "Mortals complicate things with emotions and morality. But at its core, leadership is about power. Demonstrate enough of it, and people will follow. It’s not pretty, but it’s effective."
Jack was quiet for a long moment, staring into the fire pit. His mind turned over the possibilities, the consequences.
Killing Vok’thar meant ending any chance of a peaceful resolution. It meant choosing violence, choosing to be the architect of more death.
But it also meant gaining control over his transformation. It meant having an army of demons who would follow him out of fear and respect. And most importantly, it meant completing Dreknar’s first task and moving closer to a blessing that could save him from losing his humanity entirely.
"There’s something else," Jack said, breaking the silence. "After I reach Malakai’s castle and finish this floor, I have to return to my world."
S raised an eyebrow. "Your original world? The one you came from before entering the tower?"
"Yes," Jack confirmed. "There’s a war coming. People I care about are going to be caught in the middle of it. I need to get back before that happens."
S leaned back, considering this new information. "How long do you have?"
"About 520 more days or so. So I can’t waste time."
"Then it’s obvious," S said, his tone matter-of-fact.
"Take Dreknar’s deal. Kill Vok’thar. Make these demons follow you. If you can figure out how to bring them out of the tower, you’ll have an army waiting when you return to your world."
Jack’s eyes widened. "Bring demons out of the tower? Is that even possible?"
"I don’t know," S admitted. "But I’ve seen stranger things. The tower’s rules are flexible for those who understand how to bend them. If anyone could find a way, it would be someone with your particular... advantages."
He gestured at Jack with his tangerine. "Soul Warden, divine blessings. You’re not a normal person to descend this tower. Stop thinking like one."
The idea took root in Jack’s mind. An army of demons from Tartarus Spire, loyal through fear and respect, following him back to his world. It was insane. It was impossible.
It was exactly the kind of edge he’d need if he was going to survive what was coming.
"I need to think about this," Jack said finally.
"Take your time," S said, already peeling another tangerine. "But not too much time. The longer you wait, the more likely Pho will send another group of assassins. Next time, they might be strong enough to actually kill you."
Jack nodded, standing from the log. His body ached, exhaustion pulling at him. "I’m going to rest. Think things over."
"Smart," S agreed. "You look like death warmed over."
Jack set up his own camp a short distance from S’s tent, close enough for safety but far enough for privacy. Kyren stood watch nearby, his hollow eyes scanning the darkness for any threats.
As Jack lay on his bedroll, staring up at the stars, his mind refused to settle. The dream of being Sarin.
The wounded titan. Dreknar’s task. S’s advice about building an army. The war waiting for him in his original world.
Everything was connected somehow, threads weaving together in patterns he couldn’t fully see yet.
But one thing was becoming clear: he couldn’t afford to be passive anymore. Every choice he made, every action he took, needed to serve his ultimate goal of survival.
And if that meant becoming something darker, something more ruthless, then so be it.
Jack’s hand moved to his chest, feeling the pendant Draven had given him. Two gods’ blessings, one of light and one of dark.
Divine favor from beings who operated on scales mortals couldn’t comprehend.
’What am I becoming?’ Jack wondered, not for the first time. ’So be it. I will do what’s necessary for my family and myself.’
But as sleep finally claimed him, he realized the answer didn’t matter as much as he’d thought. What mattered was surviving long enough to protect the people he cared about.
Everything else was just details.
---
The next three days passed in relative peace.
Jack rested, letting his body recover from the constant fighting and the mental strain of everything he’d experienced.
S came and went, sometimes disappearing for hours at a time on business he didn’t explain. Kyren stood watch, never sleeping, never complaining, a perfect sentinel.
On the morning of the fourth day, Jack woke with a sense of purpose that had been missing before.
He’d made his decision. Not because he liked it, but because it was the most practical path forward.
He would take Dreknar’s deal. He would kill Vok’thar. And he would see where that choice led him.
But first, he needed to be properly equipped.
"Kyren," Jack said, standing and stretching. "We’re going back to the Aurion city. Malsyn should have my equipment ready by now."
"Yes, my lord," Kyren responded.
Jack turned to where S sat, as always, eating fruit. "I’m leaving. Thank you for the advice."
S waved dismissively. "Don’t thank me yet." His red eyes gleamed. "Though I have to admit, I’m curious to see what you do. You’re far more interesting than most mortals I have met."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It’s an observation," S said with a smile. "Now go. Get your fancy new equipment. Kill your war chief. Build your army. And try not to die doing it."
Jack nodded and began walking toward the Aurion city, Kyren falling into step beside him.
When the white stone city came into view, Jack felt a strange mix of emotions. This place represented a turning point. Once he collected his equipment, once he acted on the decision he’d made, there would be no going back.
The guards at the gate recognized him immediately. They didn’t try to stop him, just watched with wary respect as Jack and his undead servant passed through. Word of what he’d done in the cavern had clearly spread.
Jack navigated the streets toward Malsyn’s forge, following the route from memory. Demons gave him a wide berth, their glowing eyes tracking his movements. Some looked curious. Others looked afraid. None approached.
The forge came into view, its familiar heat radiating outward even from a distance. Jack could hear the ring of a hammer on metal, the sound of someone lost in their work.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Malsyn was exactly where Jack had left him, working at his anvil with focused intensity. The demon looked up when Jack entered, his orange eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"Soul Warden," Malsyn said, setting down his hammer. "Your timing is perfect. I just finished."
He gestured to a workbench where Jack’s new equipment waited.
