I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 568: My name is Jack Kaiser

The formidable double doors of the fortress opened, their iron hinges creaking.

They had most likely remained unactuated for an extended period.

Torchlight from within spilled across the courtyard, illuminating the carnage that littered the ground between the dead Disaster-class serpent and the castle’s entrance.

Jack jumped down from the snake’s corpse, his boots hitting the blood-soaked stone with a wet impact.

Lightning still crackled faintly across his body, residual energy from Arc Blast’s devastating execution creating a corona of golden electricity that made his yellow and orange eyes seem to glow in the night sky.

He began walking toward the open gates, his stride confident despite the hundreds of dead serpents he had to step on.

The 247 minotaurs stood in perfect formation, creating a corridor from the massive snake’s head all the way to the castle entrance.

Their weapons, still glistening with fresh blood, were held firmly as their imposing figures stood at attention while their master walked among them.

It was a display of martial discipline that would have impressed any military commander, a beastly army showing deference to the warrior who commanded them with absolute authority.

Rhys and Father Caelen fell into step behind Jack, the young mage’s hand resting near his weapons out of habit despite the situation clearly being under control.

The old priest’s weathered features remained neutral, but his eyes tracked everything.

The minotaur formation, the soldiers visible on the ramparts, and the way the castle’s defenders were reacting to their presence.

They crossed the gateway into the fortress, entering the courtyard packed with soldiers.

Hundreds of them, their armor bearing signs of recent combat.

Dents, scratches, hastily repaired tears where snake fangs had punched through metal.

They lined the walls, filled the open spaces, and created an audience that numbered far more than the defenders visible from outside.

And every single one of them was staring.

A young man who appeared barely eighteen, with white hair catching torchlight in ways that made him look almost ethereal.

An elf whose features marked him as non-human despite his relatively normal appearance.

The clergyman, whose modest attire and calloused hands indicated extensive dedication, played an undeniably pivotal role during the conflict.

The whispers started immediately, spreading through the assembled soldiers like a ripple across water.

”That boy killed the Disaster-class serpent?”

”Impossible. Had to be the minotaur army that did the real work.”

”Did you see the lightning? He struck it down from the inside, burned its organs to ash.”

”No child has that kind of power. Must be some kind of illusion or trick.”

”The Kaiser family breeds monsters, not children. Look at what his father did to Marcus Thorne’s family.”

Jack heard every word, his enhanced perception picking up conversations that the speakers probably thought were private.

His expression didn’t change; his lips curved in a slight smile. Jack found their doubt more amusing than insulting.

A figure pushed through the crowd.

An older man, perhaps fifty, his armor was more ornate than the regular soldiers’, but still bore the same signs of recent combat.

The captain’s insignia clearly indicated his rank, and his bearing showed he was someone who’d earned that position through competence rather than political maneuvering.

He stopped ten feet from Jack’s position, his eyes sweeping across the three visitors with professional assessment that missed nothing.

Then he executed a proper military salute, fist over heart, acknowledging the presence of someone who’d just saved his fortress from a siege they were clearly losing.

”I am Captain Torven, acting commander of this garrison.”

His voice carried authority that cut through the whispered conversations, bringing relative quiet to the packed courtyard.

”On behalf of Lord Bale and the defenders of this fortress, I thank you for your intervention. Without it, we would have fallen within the hour.”

Jack’s smile widened slightly, showing teeth in an expression that wasn’t quite friendly. ”You’re welcome. Though I’m curious about something, Captain Torven.”

He paused, letting silence stretch just long enough to become uncomfortable. ”You seem uncertain about whether I actually killed that Disaster-class serpent out there. Would you like verification of my identity before we proceed with more substantive discussion?”

The captain’s jaw tightened fractionally, recognition that his own doubt had been obvious despite attempting professional courtesy.

”It would... ease concerns, yes. We’ve had reports of powerful warriors in the region, but the scale of what we just witnessed...”

Jack’s laughter indicated genuine amusement, without any hint of derision. ”What person do you know who can control lightning in Elysium? There’s only one.”

He raised his right hand, electricity gathering between his fingers in a visible display that made several nearby soldiers take an involuntary step backward.

”Jack Kaiser.”

Thunder cracked overhead despite the clear night sky, a single lightning bolt striking down to hit the ground directly between Jack and Captain Torven.

The impact cratered the stone courtyard, sending fragments of rock flying outward as golden electricity spread across the ground in branching patterns that looked almost like tree roots growing through the stonework.

The captain didn’t flinch, his military training keeping him steady despite the proximity of the strike.

However, his expression subtly shifted, revealing a flicker of recognition and apprehension beneath his composed professional exterior.

”Kaiser,” he repeated, the name carrying weight that transcended simple identification.

”Your father recently eliminated the Thorne clan after Marcus Thorne attempted an assault on your family’s estate. The entire bloodline erased, their holdings distributed, the surviving supporters turned into serfs serving House Kaiser.”

Jack’s grin remained fixed on his features, satisfaction evident in his expression.

”So you understand that when I say I killed the Disaster-class serpent by cooking its heart and lung from the inside, I’m not exaggerating or relying on my army’s capabilities. I did it myself. With these hands.”

He held up both palms, still stained with ash and blood from where they’d penetrated the snake’s body. ”Any other concerns about my identity or capabilities?”

”No, Lord Kaiser,” Captain Torven replied immediately, his tone shifting into something more deferential. ”Your presence here is... unexpected, but extremely welcome given our current situation.”

”Good,” Jack stated flatly, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the authority his name and demonstration had just established.

”Now, tell me about your situation. Why are snakes attacking this fortress? Where did they come from? And why does the King think he needs a chosen one to handle this?”

The captain’s expression darkened, recent combat and whatever had preceded it weighing visibly on his features.

”Three weeks ago, a dungeon appeared in the forest to the west. Just... manifested out of nowhere, no warning, no natural formation process. One day, the forest was empty, the next day there was an entrance to what our scouts identified as an S-rank dungeon.”

”Continue,” he prompted when the captain hesitated.

”Our lord, the previous Lord Bale, sent adventuring parties to investigate. Multiple groups, well-equipped, experienced warriors who’d cleared dungeons before.” Captain Torven’s jaw clenched.

”None of them returned. They entered the dungeon and vanished.”

”How many parties?” Father Caelen asked, his priestly concern evident despite the question’s tactical nature.

”Seven groups total, ranging from five to ten members each. Perhaps sixty warriors gone without a trace.” The captain’s hands tightened into fists at his sides.

”After the third group failed to return, Lord Bale stopped sending adventurers and focused on scouting. He wanted intelligence before committing more lives.”

”And the scouts?” Rhys’s voice carried an edge that suggested he already knew the answer.

”Also vanished. Five separate scouting missions, each one failing to report back.” Captain Torven’s expression was grim.

”Whatever’s in that dungeon, it’s eliminating everyone who enters before they can even send a warning.”