The other resisters murmured in agreement, their weapons raised, their expressions showing a mixture of defiance and fear.

They knew this was dangerous, but the alternative, signing away their souls without resistance, felt worse than taking a stand.

Little did they know, they were challenging the demon who killed Kragoth.

Jack stood on the platform, looking down at the group of rebels with that same emotionless expression.

The Blood Frenzy state made his presence feel dangerous, but these demons had faced down dangerous opponents before.

They'd served in the slave pits, had put down riots, and had killed demons who tried to escape.

Surely twenty armed warriors could handle one overseer, even a powerful one.

Jack's response came without words.

The transformation started at his chest and spread outward like liquid shadow made solid.

Black demonic scales erupted across his skin, covering his arms, his neck, and his face with those black demonic scales.

Each scale gleamed with an oily darkness that seemed to absorb light, making him appear as a void-shaped outline against the pit's dim illumination.

His body expanded, growing from six-foot-two to a full seven feet of height in seconds. Muscles swelled beneath the scales, his frame becoming broader, more massive, radiating physical power that made his previous appearance look almost frail by comparison.

Infernal Conversion.

The crimson glow of his eyes intensified, bleeding out from the sockets to create trails of red light that left afterimages in the air. His hands elongated, fingers becoming tipped with claws that looked capable of tearing through stone.

And on his face, barely visible beneath the scales, a smile appeared.

Not his usual emotionless expression. Not the cold calculation he typically showed.

This was something else entirely, something savage and thrilled, the expression of a predator who'd just been given permission to hunt.

Jack vanished from sight.

One second he was on the platform. The next he was among the rebels, moving with speed that made normal Dread-rank demons look like they were standing still.

The first guard died before he could even register Jack's presence. The Soul Warden's clawed hand wrapped around the demon's head and he yanked.

The skull separated from the spine with a wet tearing sound, vertebrae ripping free, blood vessels tearing, tendons snapping like overstressed cables.

Jack held the severed head up for a moment, letting blood pour from the ragged stump, then casually tossed it aside where it bounced twice before rolling to a stop at another guard's feet.

The second guard tried to run.

He made it perhaps three steps before Jack caught him from behind, one scaled hand grabbing the demon's left shoulder, the other grabbing his right hip.

Then Jack pulled in opposite directions.

The guard's body split vertically, tearing down the middle like paper. Ribs separated with sharp cracks, the spine fractured and broke, internal organs spilled out in a cascade of gore that painted the ground in viscera.

The two halves of the body fell separately, twitching as dying nerves fired random signals.

A third guard managed to swing her weapon, a heavy axe that should have buried itself in Jack's scaled torso.

The blade connected and bounced off harmlessly, unable to penetrate the demonic armor that covered him.

Jack grabbed the guard's arm and twisted. The shoulder dislocated with a wet pop, then the bone snapped, then the entire limb tore free at the socket in a spray of blood that coated Jack's face and chest.

The guard screamed, a sound of pure agony that was cut short when Jack swung the severed arm like a club and caved in her skull. Then he hit her again. And again.

Using her own limb as a weapon, pulverizing her head into an unrecognizable mess of bone fragments and brain matter.

He kept swinging even after she'd stopped twitching, the savage satisfaction in his movements clear to every demon watching.

This was an execution.

The remaining rebels tried to scatter, but Jack was faster.

He caught a fleeing overseer and drove his clawed hand through the demon's back, punching completely through the torso to emerge from the chest holding a still-beating heart. He crushed it in his grip, let the remains fall, and moved to the next target.

An overhead slash with those claws opened a guard from shoulder to opposite hip, nearly severing him in two diagonally.

The demon fell in pieces, trying to hold himself together with hands that no longer had the strength to grip.

A kick from Jack's scaled leg shattered another demon's ribcage, the force so overwhelming that shards of bone exploded outward through the front and back simultaneously.

The guard crumpled, drowning in his own blood as punctured lungs failed.

Jack grabbed another demon by the throat and squeezed. Not quickly, but slowly, methodically, his clawed fingers sinking through flesh and crushing the windpipe millimeter by millimeter.

He held eye contact the entire time, that savage smile widening as life faded from his victim's eyes.

Thirty seconds had passed.

Jack caught a guard trying to crawl away, both legs broken from some impact the demon couldn't even remember.

The Warden grabbed him by the ankle, lifted him upside down, and slammed him into the ground headfirst. The skull exploded like a dropped melon, brains and bone splashing across the floor in a radius.

He tore another demon's jaw completely off, the lower mandible separating from the skull in a fountain of blood and shattered teeth.

The guard collapsed, unable even to scream through the ruin of his face.

Forty seconds went by.

Vexor, the guard captain who'd started this rebellion, tried to make a final stand.

He raised his weapon with shaking hands, trying to look brave, trying to pretend he wasn't about to die.

Jack walked toward him slowly, savoring the moment. The captain swung desperately, putting all his strength behind the blow.

Jack caught the weapon mid-swing with one hand. The blade stopped dead, unable to overcome the Warden's enhanced strength.

Then he ripped it from the captain's grip and tossed it aside.

Vexor tried to speak, to beg, to negotiate.

Jack grabbed his head with both hands, one on each side of the skull, and pulled in opposite directions.

The captain's head didn't tear off cleanly. Instead, it split down the middle, the skull cracking and separating into two roughly equal halves.

Brain tissue was exposed, bisected perfectly, steaming in the cold air. The body remained standing for almost three full seconds before collapsing.

Fifty-five seconds in total passed.

Jack stood among the carnage, his scaled form splattered with blood and gore, bodies in various states of dismemberment surrounding him in a rough circle.

His breathing came steady and calm, as if he'd merely finished a light exercise rather than slaughtering twenty armed demons in under a minute.

The savage satisfaction remained on his face, that primal joy at violence executed perfectly, at resistance crushed so thoroughly that resistance itself became impossible.

Then, slowly, the scales began to recede. The transformation reversed, black armor sinking back into his skin, his height diminishing from seven feet back to six-two, the claws retracting to normal fingers.

Within ten seconds, Jack looked almost normal, if one ignored the blood coating him from head to toe, the gore dripping from his armor, the viscera clinging to his boots.

All the blood was absorbed by his armor.

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