I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 657: Skarl Gor-Voidgaze

The morning light within Jack’s chambers cast distinct, sharp shadows upon the stone walls. The room itself presented an austere aesthetic.

The Elven Kingdom did not waste resources on comfort for human visitors. A single window overlooked the city’s lower districts, where the less prominent nobles maintained their residences.

Jack stood before the window, his white hair catching the light as he reviewed the documents that had been provided regarding the Krogar emissary.

The paperwork was sparse. Deliberately so. The death had been recorded as an illness. Quick and designed to discourage further inquiry.

He had already anticipated this. A demon operating with sufficient sophistication to conceal its presence from the Elven Council suggested a level of organization far exceeding random acts of violence.

The knock at his door came at precisely the hour specified in the morning’s schedule.

Jack turned from the window without haste. He opened the door to find an Elven guard. One of the palace attendants was tasked with maintaining the visiting emissary’s schedule.

"The Krogar delegation has requested your presence at their villa," the guard stated. This was a routine administrative communication. "I have been instructed to escort you."

Jack inclined his head slightly. "Then we should not delay them."

The journey through Caeloria’s streets led them into districts that the Elven Kingdom kept separate from the central palace architecture.

The Orc delegation’s villa was built in a style that contradicted every aesthetic principle the city favored. It possessed a sharp, commanding presence, characterized by its dark stone walls.

The security personnel positioned at the entrance were notably imposing, characterized by their significant height, broad shoulders, and muscular physiques. They observed Jack’s arrival with a range of expressions, from inquisitive to overtly dismissive.

The Elven escort came to a halt at the villa’s threshold.

"I cannot enter," the guard stated, his tone carrying neither apology nor explanation. "The Krogar delegation operates under autonomous treaty rights. Elven representation is forbidden within their dwelling."

Jack passed through the entrance without response, leaving the Elven guard to retreat toward the palace.

The villa’s interior was dim. Torches burned along the walls, but they cast dancing shadows that made the space feel more cavernous than it appeared to be.

The air was thick with the scent of leather, smoke, and something else. An herbal component that Jack had never smelled before.

A figure emerged from the darkness.

The Orc was ten feet tall, his frame composed almost entirely of muscle and scar tissue. His skin was a deep, forest green, marked with calluses across the shoulders, knuckles, and neck that had hardened into almost natural armor. His tusks were serrated, jagged along their edges, giving his jaw an aggressive, predatory appearance.

"Who seeks entrance to the Krogar villa?" the Orc asked, his voice carrying the rumble of something that spent considerable time speaking at volumes that made walls resonate.

"Jack Kaiser," Jack replied, his tone level. "Emissary to the Elven Kingdom on behalf of King Eric Valdris."

The Orc studied him for a moment, then stepped aside, gesturing for Jack to enter deeper into the villa.

The main chamber was vast. Torches illuminated high ceilings designed for creatures considerably larger than standard human proportions.

More Orcs moved throughout the space, some engaged in conversation, others attending to various tasks. They paused to observe the human entering their sanctum.

One of them stepped forward. A massive Orc whose skin was volcanic black, marked with white paint applied in patterns that looked like they had some ritual significance.

His tusks were long, curved, and wrapped in what appeared to be silver wire bound with intricate runic etching. They swept outward and upward, framing his jawline with an almost regal, imposing presence.

"A human emissary," the first Orc said, his voice approaching contempt. "Look at the size of this creature. What could possibly fit inside a frame so fragile? A stiff wind would snap his ribs like kindling. How is it the Elven Kingdom believes sending something so soft, so useless, would constitute diplomatic respect?"

He continued his verbal assault, moving closer, his massive frame casting a shadow that engulfed Jack.

"You stand in the presence of Skarl Gor-Voidgaze, keeper of the Krogar threshold, and you bring us a thing barely taller than my leg. Does the Elven Council mock us so openly now?"

The Orc with the wrapped tusks moved slowly. His voice, when he spoke, carried an authority that cut through Skarl’s tirade as cleanly as a blade through water.

"Skarl. Shut your mouth."

Skarl’s head snapped toward the other Orc, his expression twisting into a snarl.

"Grom, you tell me to silence myself for this hairless ape? He looks as though a moderately forceful conversation would snap his spine. You’re defending this?"

"Look at his feet," Grom Zor-Grimmarch replied, his gaze never leaving Jack. "Look at where he stands on the floor. The ground isn’t even carrying his weight. He’s compressing the air beneath his boots. The pressure differential beneath his form is measurable from where I stand. If you swing at him, you won’t touch him, and your arms will be torn off."

Skarl’s mouth opened to respond, then closed. His massive frame took an involuntary step backward.

Grom’s painted face turned toward Jack, and his sharp, ancient eyes fixed on the human with complete focus.

"Who are you?" Grom asked, his voice dropping to something lower, more dangerous. "And what brings you to our villa?"

"Jack Kaiser," Jack said, his tone remaining unchanged. "Emissary from Elysium for the Elven Kingdom and Krogar."

The name registered immediately. Grom’s expression didn’t change, but the quality of his attention intensified.

"A Kaiser," Grom said quietly. "And which Kaiser are you? Son or servant?"

"Son," Jack replied with perfect clarity.

Grom’s hand tightened around his staff. The wood groaned under the pressure of his grip. The sound carried through the chamber, drawing attention from every Orc present. The ambient temperature seemed to drop.

"Then you are here, why?" Grom asked. "Your father’s house has no interest in Krogar concerns. The Kaiser family trades in power and dominance. We are merchant-folk to you. Sources of components and resources, nothing more."

Jack’s expression remained neutral. His shoulders were relaxed. His breathing was steady and controlled.

"I came because I want to stop a war from happening," Jack stated flatly. "And because the council tried to hide what happened to your emissary."

Grom’s grip on his staff tightened further. The wood split slightly, splinters appearing along its length under the pressure.

"Speak," Grom commanded. "Tell me what you know."

"You sent one of your own," Jack said, his voice carrying absolute certainty. "A warrior of Krogar, tasked with negotiating trade agreements. Offering your indigenous resources in exchange for the components your shamans require. He was killed within days of arriving."

Grom’s jaw clenched. The wrapped tusks caught the torchlight, the silver wire glinting with each movement.

"Yes," Grom said, the word emerging like a curse. "Korva Stonefoot. A negotiator of significant standing. He arrived with legitimacy. He carried the authority of the Krogar shamans. And within three days, the Elven Council delivered word of his death."

Grom moved to a table laden with documents. The reports from the Elven Council are official notifications written in careful, diplomatic language.

"They told us he fell to sudden sickness," Grom continued, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. "Claimed his body was already disposed of according to Elven funeral rites before word could reach us. They offered to investigate. Even offered some of the fauna and other ingredients we were trying to acquire at a reduced rate."