Jack walked through the fortress corridors, his armor torn and bloodstained, but his stride remained steady.

Despite the wounds from Pho's Black Ice Soul, his enhanced constitution kept him moving with barely diminished movement.

His bones were denser now, closer to a demon's structure than a human's.

His muscles responded with the same efficiency they'd had before the fight. The pain was there, sharp and insistent, but it didn't slow him down.

{I have to admit,} Oscar said, his mental voice carrying genuine appreciation, {your recovery capabilities are impressive. Most demons would be limping after taking two hits from Black Ice Soul. You're walking like you stubbed your toe.}

'Yes I have some good recovery. But you haven't seen the best part yet.'

{Still. That was forty-five percent true damage. Twice. And you're walking it off like it's nothing. Either you're tougher than I thought, or you're very good at hiding pain.}

'Both.'

Jack turned a corner, heading deeper into the fortress toward the exit that would lead him back to the cave.

His mind was already working through the next steps.

The fight with Pho had given him valuable information.

The demon fighting style, his reliance on ice manipulation, the devastating power of Black Ice Soul. All of it would be useful when the time came to actually…

Something solid collided with Jack's shoulder.

The impact wasn't hard, but it was unexpected enough that both Jack and the other demon stumbled.

Papers exploded into the air, dozens of documents scattering across the corridor floor in a chaotic spread.

"No, no, no!" The voice was feminine, higher-pitched than most demons, carrying genuine panic. "Not now! I need to get these to the meeting!"

Jack looked down at the demon he'd bumped into.

{Oh.}

Oscar's mental voice went suddenly quiet, which was unusual enough that Jack noticed immediately.

The demon was small, barely five feet tall, with a frame so delicate she looked like she might break if someone breathed on her too hard.

Her pointed ears jutted from beneath dark hair that fell in soft waves to her shoulders, and two small horns, so small they were barely noticeable, protruded from her forehead.

But it was her features that had apparently caught Oscar's attention.

Despite her frail build, she had a striking figure that her simple administrative robes couldn't quite hide, and her face carried a kind of delicate beauty that seemed almost out of place in a demon fortress.

If not for those tiny horns and the faint red tint to her skin, she could have passed for an elf.

{I... uh... that is...}

'Oscar?'

{She's... I mean... wow.}

She had a near perfect figure and her robes were clung so tight to her body, you would think they would have ripped.

The assistant scrambled on the ground, frantically gathering papers with shaking hands.

Her movements were rushed, almost desperate, and Jack could see her arms trembling, whether from panic or simply from her frail constitution, he couldn't tell.

"I'm so sorry," she said quickly, not even looking up at who she'd collided with. "I wasn't watching where I was going, I just need to get these to the generals' meeting and I'm already late and…"

She finally glanced up and froze when she saw Jack's damaged armor, the blood still seeping through cracks in the enchanted metal, Oscar held casually in his grip.

Her eyes widened, and genuine fear flickered across her delicate features.

She flinched back slightly, her entire body tensing as if expecting violence.

{Holy... I mean... is she always this... you know what, never mind, I can't even form coherent thoughts right now.}

"Are you okay?" Jack asked. He tilted his head as he looked her up and down.

Her eyes kept darting between his damaged armor and Oscar, as if trying to assess the danger level. She blushed slightly before looking away.

Jack knelt down and started gathering papers.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" she said, watching him help with clear surprise. "You look like you just fought a war."

"Just a spar," Jack replied, his flat voice carrying no indication of the pain he was managing. "I heal quickly. Don't worry about me."

He collected a stack of documents, scanning them briefly as he picked them up. Requisition forms, patrol schedules, resource allocation reports, the standard administrative work that kept a fortress running.

Nothing particularly interesting on its own.

{She's staring at you. Well, more like staring at your armor nervously. Can you blame her? You look like you got mauled. Also, did I mention she's incredibly….}

'Focus, Oscar.'

{Right. Focusing. On the... papers. Definitely the papers. Not on how they move or anything.}

"You're... helping me?" The assistant's voice carried genuine surprise as she watched Jack gather her papers. Her hands were still shaking as she reached for documents near her feet.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because..." She hesitated, her nervousness making her words come out in a rush. "Most demons don't. They see me as insignificant. Not worth their time or attention."

Jack glanced at her as he picked up more papers, noting how she kept her distance even while gathering documents, and how her entire posture suggested she was ready to bolt at the first sign of aggression.

"Why would they see you that way?"

She laughed, but it was a hollow sound without real humor, and her voice shook slightly as she spoke. "Because I'm a Vile-rank demon. Lowest tier in the hierarchy. Born from weak parents who barely had enough demonic energy between them to create offspring."

She gestured to herself with one trembling hand. "I barely even look like a demon, pointed ears and these tiny horns that most demons don't even notice at first. I could pass for an elf if not for the skin tone. And I'm... fragile. Not built for combat or physical labor. Just administrative work."

{Fragile is putting it mildly. She looks like a strong wind would knock her over. But still... I mean... there's something about… okay, I need to stop.}

She gathered the last few documents near her, organizing them with ease despite how much her hands shook.

Jack noticed she was being very careful not to get too close to him, maintaining a buffer of space as if afraid contact might result in an injury.

"So the soldiers ignore me. The officers treat me like furniture. And the generals only acknowledge my existence when they need something delivered or organized." She looked up at Jack, meeting his red eyes through his visor with clear nervousness.

"You're the first demon who's bothered to help me pick up papers in... I don't even know how long."

{Is it getting warm in here? No, wait, we're in an ice fortress. Never mind. But seriously, how is she this…}

Jack handed her the stack he'd collected, making sure they were properly aligned and organized.

Their hands touched briefly as she took them from him, and she pulled back quickly, almost nervously, as if the contact had startled her.

{Did you see that? She jumped like you shocked her. Poor thing seems terrified of everything.}

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice still carrying that tremor. "Really. Thank you."

"I'm Jakar," Jack said, standing and offering his hand to help her up. "I'm the new general of the slave pits."

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