Wait.

His soldiers didn't have scales. And none of them had yellow eyes that glowed like burning sulfur.

"You know what you should do?" the figure continued, completely ignoring Kragoth's sudden realization.

"You should challenge him directly. Make it clear that you're not afraid. Show him that the Pit Master of the Black Ice Castle isn't some grunt he can push around. I bet if you called him out right now, he'd be too scared to even show his face."

"I... yes..." Kragoth's voice came out strangled, his mind finally catching up to what was happening. "I would... I'd..."

The figure turned to look at him directly, those yellow eyes meeting Kragoth's small piggish ones with an expression that might have been amusement.

"You'd what, Kragoth?"

The Pit Master's blood turned to ice.

That voice. Those eyes.

'The yellow-eyed demon.'

It was standing right next to him. Had been standing there the entire time, agreeing with his threats, hyping up his boasts, playing along like a friend encouraging a warrior before battle.

"You..." Kragoth breathed, his entire body coiling like a spring. "You're…."

"The yellow-eyed demon?" The figure tilted his head slightly. "Yeah. That's what they're calling me, right? I have to say, it's not the most creative nickname, but it works."

Kragoth didn't respond with words.

His greatsword left its sheath in a blur of motion that defied his massive size. Two meters of enchanted ice-forged steel, thick as a man's torso and sharp enough to cleave through plate armor like parchment.

The blade moved with the speed and precision of someone who'd killed hundreds of demons with this exact strike.

A horizontal slash aimed at the yellow-eyed demon's neck. Fast enough that most opponents wouldn't even see it coming. Powerful enough to decapitate even a Nightmare-rank demon in a single blow.

The blade passed through empty air.

No.

Not empty air.

Kragoth felt the resistance. Felt his blade connect with something solid.

Felt the impact travel up his arms as steel met flesh and bone.

Blood sprayed across the black ice platform. Dark red droplets painting abstract patterns where the yellow-eyed demon had been standing.

The scaled figure was gone.

Just blood. Just evidence that Kragoth's blade had found its mark.

The Pit Master stood frozen, his greatsword extended, blood dripping from its edge onto the ice below.

His breathing came in sharp gasps, adrenaline flooding his system, his warrior instincts still screaming danger despite what his eyes were telling him.

'I hit him. I felt it. The blade connected. There's blood. He's...'

"Dead," Kragoth whispered, the word tasting strange in his mouth. "I killed him. The yellow-eyed demon. I actually killed him."

The platform was silent except for the distant sounds of the pit below. Pickaxes striking ice. Carts rumbling. Slaves working under the watchful eyes of remaining guards.

Kragoth slowly lowered his blade, his small eyes fixed on the blood pooled at his feet. Proof that his strike had been true.

'That easy? Was it that easy? All the rumors, all the fear, all the mystery, and I killed him with one strike?'

But even as relief began to flood through his chest, something nagged at the back of Kragoth's mind. A small voice that whispered doubt.

'You didn't see a body. You saw blood, but no body. Where did he go?'

Kragoth shook his head, pushing the thought away. "It doesn't matter. He's dead. I felt the blade connect. I saw the blood. The yellow-eyed demon is dead, and I killed him."

"Wow, that was impressive."

The voice came from above.

Kragoth's head snapped up, his small eyes widening as his brain tried to process what he was seeing.

The yellow-eyed demon sat perched on his shoulders like a child riding their father, legs dangling down across Kragoth's massive chest, clawed hands resting casually on top of the Pit Master's head.

That demonic face, all black scales and burning yellow eyes, looked down at Kragoth with an expression that might have been genuine admiration.

"Seriously," Jack continued, his tone carrying that same friendly enthusiasm from before. "I didn't even see you move. One second I'm standing there, the next second boom, decapitated. You're really fast for someone your size."

"I... yes..." Kragoth found himself responding automatically, his warrior's pride swelling despite the impossible situation. "Years of practice. I've killed hundreds of demons with that exact strike. It never fails to…."

Wait.

If the demon was decapitated, how was it sitting on his shoulders?

If the demon was dead, whose legs were dangling across his chest?

If the demon was gone, whose clawed hands were resting on top of his head?

Kragoth's blood turned to ice for the second time.

"You're wondering how I'm still alive," Jack said helpfully, as if reading the Pit Master's thoughts.

"That's a good question. Want me to explain it, or should we skip to the part where you try to kill me again?"

Before Kragoth could respond, Jack's yellow eyes began to glow brighter.

[Flawed Sight: ACTIVE]

The world shifted in Jack's vision, overlaying numbers and information onto Kragoth's massive form like a targeting system.

[Target: Kragoth - Pit Master]

[Rank: Nightmare-Class]

[Level: 87]

[Base Stats:]

[Strength: 250]

[Stamina: 250]

[Agility: 120]

[Vitality: 120]

[Endurance: 250]

[Magic: 160]

[Mana: 10,000/10,000]

[HP: 60,000/60,000]

Jack studied the numbers with the detached interest of someone examining a puzzle.

Strength and Endurance both capped at 250, which explained how Kragoth could wield that massive greatsword.

Agility and Vitality were lower, suggesting the Pit Master relied on raw power rather than speed or regeneration. Magic was decent but not exceptional for a Nightmare-rank demon.

'Sixty thousand HP,' Jack thought, doing quick calculations. 'That's substantial. Even with all my bonuses active, I'd need at least two strikes to burn through that. But there are other ways to end a fight.'

Jack's clawed hands shifted slightly on top of Kragoth's head, his thumbs moving to rest directly over those small, piggish eyes.

"Hey, Kragoth," Jack said conversationally. "Quick question. How attached are you to your vision?"

The Pit Master finally snapped out of his shocked paralysis. His massive hands shot up, grabbing at Jack's arms, trying to pry the demon off his shoulders with strength that could bend steel bars.

His fingers closed around Jack's scaled forearms and pulled.

But nothing happened.

Kragoth's muscles bulged, veins standing out against his charcoal-gray skin as he put every ounce of his strength into moving Jack.

He might as well have been trying to move a mountain. Jack's arms didn't budge even a fraction of an inch.

"That's... impossible," Kragoth gasped, still pulling, still straining. "I can lift boulders. I can crush steel. I can…"

Jack's thumbs pressed down.

The pressure was gentle at first.

Then it increased, slowly but inexorably, pressing into Kragoth's eyes with the inevitability of a glacier grinding through stone.

"AHHHHH!"

Kragoth's scream tore through the pit.

His hands released Jack's arms, flying to his own face, trying to push Jack's thumbs away, trying to do anything to stop the agony building behind his eyes.

But Jack's grip was absolute. Enhanced by Infernal Conversion, amplified by his demonic transformation, backed by stats that had been multiplied far beyond their base values.

His thumbs pressed deeper, the pressure building…

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