Dreknar's massive form cast a shadow that seemed to swallow the throne room's light.
Those green flames in his eyes burned with an intensity that made the air shimmer, and when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of divine authority.
"For your third task," the demon god said, each word sounded heavy, "I want you to exercise your position as Soul Warden."
Jack's yellow eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
"You carry a title that most beings don't understand the significance of," Dreknar continued, settling back into his bone throne. The structure creaked beneath his weight. "Soul Warden. Not warrior. Not hunter. Warden." His grin widened. "You have the power to bind souls, little lamb. To claim them as your own. To add them to your collection like a master collects tools."
He leaned forward, those burning green eyes fixed on Jack.
