Chapter 152: Aethrium
He turned and began walking back toward where Fluffy waited, his black suit somehow remaining immaculate despite the scorched earth and demon blood.
"I’ll set up camp nearby. Take your time with your interrogations. But remember, the frenzy drain is still active. You’ll want to have some demon hearts and blood ready."
Jack checked his HP. Still above 60%, but dropping steadily. S was right, he needed to have something ready for when he had to feed.
The two leaders were still kneeling, blood marking their foreheads, waiting for his acknowledgment.
Jack walked toward them slowly, his Lightning Spear still planted in the ground behind him. His reanimated servant followed a few paces back, its hollow eyes fixed on its master.
"Stand," Jack commanded, his voice carrying authority they respected.
Both leaders obeyed immediately, rising to their feet but keeping their heads slightly bowed in deference.
"I am Seryth," the Aurion leader said, her voice musical but strained. "High Commander of the Aurion. We acknowledge your power, Soul Warden, and will honor the ceasefire you have imposed."
"Vok’thar," the Thal’Gorin leader rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "War Chief of the Thal’Gorin. We too honor the ceasefire and recognize your authority on this battlefield."
Jack studied them both, his enhanced perception from months of training picking up details.
Seryth’s armor bore marks from countless battles, dents, scratches, places where darkness had eaten through the metal.
Vok’thar’s shadows were thinner in spots, as if light had burned them away repeatedly.
These weren’t politicians playing at war. They were genuine warriors who’d fought on the front lines.
"How long has this war been going on?" Jack asked.
"Four years," Seryth answered immediately.
"Four years," Vok’thar confirmed, though his tone carried an edge. "Since the Aurion first claimed..."
"Enough," Jack interrupted. "I don’t want accusations. I want facts. Both of you will answer my questions. Separately. And I will discover why this war truly started."
He looked between them, letting the implicit threat hang in the air. He’d just killed one of their champions in seconds. They both knew what would happen if they lied to him.
"Seryth, you first," Jack said. "Vok’thar, return to your city. I’ll speak with you after."
The Thal’Gorin War Chief hesitated, his shadows coiling with what might have been frustration. But he nodded, turned, and began walking back toward his city.
Nyx’ira followed him, her void-like eyes lingering on Jack for a moment before she too retreated.
That left Jack alone with Seryth, his reanimated servant, and Vel’thor’s corpse cooling on the scorched earth.
Jack looked at Seryth, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. "Let’s talk."
The Aurion High Commander nodded, her wings folding respectfully behind her. Even with the blood mark on her forehead, she maintained an air of dignity that spoke to years of leadership.
"What started this war?" Jack asked directly. "Not the excuses. Not the justifications. What actually caused the first blood to be spilled?"
Seryth was quiet for a moment, her luminescent eyes distant as if recalling something painful. "Mining rights," she said finally. "To a very specific ore that grows in the valley between our cities."
"Ore that grows?" Jack frowned. "You mean ore deposits?"
"No. It grows." Seryth gestured toward the river cutting through the valley. "There’s a mineral called Aethrium that forms in the ground here. It’s unique to this region, blue crystals that literally grow over time, fed by the magical energy in the earth."
Jack’s interest sharpened. "What makes it valuable?"
"When Aethrium is forged into weapons or armor, it grants random magical properties," Seryth explained.
"Not predetermined effects based on the smith’s skill, but truly random. One blade might burst into flames. Another might drain the life from whatever it cuts. A third might do nothing at all." Her expression turned bitter.
"It’s valuable precisely because of its unpredictability. Powerful demons pay fortunes for Aethrium equipment, hoping to gain an edge their enemies can’t anticipate."
Jack processed this. A resource that granted random magical effects would indeed be worth fighting over, especially for demons who valued power above all else.
"So the war is about control of the mining sites," Jack said.
"Partially." Seryth’s perfect features twisted into something approaching embarrassment. "The conflict escalated four years ago when I... made a mistake."
"What kind of mistake?"
She took a breath, as if steeling herself. "I commissioned a weapon made from Aethrium as a gift for Vok’thar. A gesture of goodwill between our clans. We’d been negotiating shared mining rights, and I wanted to demonstrate our craftsmanship."
Her wings drooped slightly. "The weapon I gave him was a ceremonial dagger. Beautiful work. Perfectly balanced. And when he tested it in front of Pho, it activated its random effect."
Jack waited.
"It made him fart," Seryth said flatly. "Uncontrollably. For three hours straight."
Jack blinked. "I’m sorry, what?"
"The dagger’s magical property caused uncontrollable flatulence in whoever wielded it."
Seryth’s tone was mortified. "Vok’thar was attempting to demonstrate his clan’s strength to Pho, to secure an alliance. Instead, he stood there in front of a Disaster-class demon, farting continuously while trying to maintain his dignity."
Despite himself, Jack felt a laugh building in his chest. He forced it down. This was supposed to be a serious investigation.
"Pho found it hilarious," Seryth continued. "He mocked Vok’thar mercilessly. Called him the ’Wind Chief’ instead of War Chief. The humiliation destroyed any chance of an alliance, and Vok’thar blamed me. Claimed I’d deliberately sabotaged him with a cursed weapon."
"Did you know what the effect would be?" Jack asked.
"No!" Seryth’s light flared brighter with genuine distress. "That’s the nature of Aethrium, completely random effects. I was trying to give him a weapon that might grant him power. Instead..." She trailed off, her embarrassment palpable.
"Instead, I made him a laughingstock in front of one of the most powerful demons on this floor."
Jack’s mind raced. A war over mining rights, escalated by an embarrassing gift that destroyed a political alliance.
It made sense in a brutal, demon-logic kind of way. Reputation mattered enormously to powerful demons. Being humiliated like that would be grounds for retaliation.
But something felt off.
’Four years of war over a fart joke?’ Jack thought. ’That seems excessive, even for demons.’
There had to be more. Some deeper reason why this conflict had continued for so long, why both clans were willing to throw away thousands of lives over what amounted to a practical joke gone wrong.
"Is that all?" Jack asked carefully. "Just the mining rights and the... unfortunate weapon?"
Seryth hesitated. Just for a moment, but Jack caught it. His enhanced perception from months of training picked up the micro-expression, a flicker of something in her eyes. Guilt? Fear? He couldn’t quite identify it.
"That’s what started it," she said, her voice steady but her light dimming slightly. "Everything else followed from there."
She was hiding something. Jack was sure of it. But pushing too hard now might make her defensive, less willing to cooperate.
"I need access to a smith," Jack said, changing the subject. "Someone who can work with Aethrium. Do you have anyone skilled enough?"
Seryth’s posture relaxed slightly, apparently relieved by the topic shift. "We do. Malsyn, our Master Smith. He’s one of the finest craftsmen in the region." She paused. "But if you want him to work for you, you’ll need to pay respects at our holy site first."