Chapter 740

Chapter 740: Understanding Your True Desires

Jesse ordered the Felhounds to guard the tower with their lives and not to leave. Before departing, he watched the two Felhounds of different sizes patrolling between the stairs and platform. It really felt like an evil lair from a game.

He informed the Stonewatch soldiers of his departure and immediately set off back to the Storm Altar.

After resting overnight in Lakeshire and crossing Redridge, he headed north for three days to reach the valley again. The Orc camp looked much more organized now, clearly showing the warlocks planned to stay awhile.

Reaching the cliff edge, he looked down at the altar surrounded by lava. Kallez still knelt there, unchanged since his departure.

Molofeel approached. "When you prepared to come here… I sensed your thoughts, master. I’ve awaited your arrival since then. Enduring solitude here is truly agonizing."

Jesse watched the Demon Lord descend the steps. "Those pleasantries mean little to me now, Molofeel."

Molofeel leaned closer. "Should I adopt a different manner then? Perhaps mimic Vereesa Windrunner’s pure maiden act to entice you? Is that more to your liking? I could manage that."

"Is this provocation?" Jesse asked.

Molofeel whispered at his ear: "Provoking you? Perhaps. But there’s no malice, master—only my unstoppable jealousy…"

Upon reaching the Storm Altar platform, Kallez finally raised his head. His shield-like shoulder plates scraped against his broad chest armor, producing a metallic screech that echoed like distant valley thunder under the binding spell’s magic.

After facing Gnolls and Voidwalkers in the Mage Tower, confronting this Doom Lord brought overwhelming pressure. Though tightly bound and enslaved, Kallez felt like a being from another plane entirely.

Having faced Deathwing, Jesse realized he’d underestimated this Twisting Nether creature. "What foolish question brings you now, little mouse who calls himself master?" Kallez snarled.

As Kallez jerked his head forward, the binding spell yanked him back violently. Lava churned beneath the Storm Altar.

The female warlock Demisette Cloyce approached from distant stone columns. Her expression didn’t look calm—she’d participated in casting the binding spell.

Jesse noted the demon’s palpable pressure affecting her. "Have you learned anything from him during this time, Ms. Cloyce?"

"Since Mor’zul left, we haven’t dared question him," Demisette answered. "Today’s just my watch."

"Where did Mor’zul go?" Jesse asked.

"He returned to Moonbrook to fetch belongings. Planning an extended stay—likely retrieving unfinished research."

Jesse nodded, hoping Mor’zul would bring the teleportation circle spell he wanted, saving a trip to Moonbrook.

"Are you listening, Jesse Seso?!" Kallez growled.

"I heard," Jesse said. "But I’m master. I answer when I choose, without owing you reasons."

The Demon Lord cursed in Demonic, shaking violently. The binding spell restricted his movement so severely Jesse couldn’t tell if it was an attack attempt or mere shudder.

Studying the binding spell, Jesse wondered if the Mage Tower held enough energy to sustain it.

He produced the imp’s Ered’ruin scroll, locating a word uttered by a basement Doomguard. "Tell me this word’s meaning, Kallez."

He pronounced the memorized term: "Aoruliate."

The Demon Lord chuckled. "Do my ears deceive me? Or do you truly attempt to insult me in our tongue?"

The Doomguard claimed it meant "enslaved beast"—a derogatory term among Burning Legion recruits. Kallez’s reaction confirmed its truth.

"So you know its meaning," Jesse stated.

"What are you implying?" the Demon Lord murmured.

"I wish to learn your language," Jesse said. "Next word."

Selecting a brief term from Dethmoora’s scroll, he scorched it onto earth with a charred branch. The Demon Lord disdainfully scanned the markings. "Conceal," he uttered in Demonic.

“Very well.” Jesse glanced at the paper in his hand and said, “Once I gather more Ered’ruin language, I’ll have you help translate again.”

“What? Found Dethmoora’s report meant for me and want to know its contents?” Kallez retorted arrogantly. “Don’t think I’m blind to your tricks, Jesse Seso. Few Ered’ruin still use this tongue—Kur’ul, Kazzak, Kaz’lok… I can count the rest on one hand. Dethmoora clings to it, dreaming she’ll become my equal someday, yet her ambition dwarfs her power! How does it feel having your mind laid bare, you insignificant worm? Still think yourself clever?”

Jesse eyed the Demon Lord’s hands—only six fingers in total.

Ignoring the accusation, he countered, “And your ambitions, Kallez? Even Dethmoora harbors her own designs.”

“My ambition is serving the great master Sargeras,” Kallez declared. “You grasp demons deeper than I expected, Jesse Seso. Not content with magical coercion, now you seek a master-servant pact? Arrogant filth—you outshine even that slave Dethmoora in conceit!”

“Truth. Now,” Jesse commanded. “That’s an order!”

“I veil no loyalty!” Kallez roared. “Serving Lord Kil’jaeden and the great master is my highest purpose, whether your magic wrings it from me or not…”

Jesse said, “Then I pledge this: one day I’ll return you to the Twisting Nether, back to Kil’jaeden and Sargeras. In exchange… you’ll serve me faithfully until then. Recite the full contract-binding spell for me now, Kallez. Obey.”

Kallez snorted contemptuously and began a low chant.

“Selota, Embar’ti, Kaindel, Gaen’kenthis…”

The incantation stretched long, woven with pact terms like those for summoning succubi or imps.

Jesse echoed each syllable, transcribing the Demonic sounds onto paper. Yet he sensed this wasn’t pure Demonic—likely Ered’ruin—and scribbled phonetic tweaks to match his recitation.

After verifying with the Demon Lord, he attempted the chant. Bolstered by the Storm Altar’s power, the casting flowed smoothly. Within tries, a fragile link flickered between them.

Naturally, this proved simpler than hauling a demon from the void—merely magical negotiation with one already leashed to him.

But the connection snapped too soon, far from a true pact. Jesse knew it; so did Molofeel. “It’s failing, master.”

“Why?” Jesse asked.

“She’s right,” Kallez murmured. “Forcing a contract wastes breath when your heart wars against it, Jesse Seso. You dread my return—no mind magic needed to taste that fear, you pitiful jester scheming in shadows… Your terrors strangle the pact. Want it sealed? First, genuinely wish me back in the Burning Legion…”

The Demon Lord’s laughter boomed. Jesse sighed—he’d expected little.

“Not all comprehend their true desires, master,” Molofeel smiled. “Even a Demon Lord, commanded to bare his soul, offers only what he believes lies within.”

Kallez fixed his gaze on the succubus. “You posture as all-knowing, Sayaad, yet parade only ignorance.”

“Continue, Molofeel,” Jesse pressed.

“Yes, master.” Molofeel lifted her chin, almost haughty before the towering demon. “As he spat those demon kings’ names, one stirred potent feelings—hatred, envy…”

“Kazzak,” Jesse said. “I caught it too.”

Though Kallez had rattled the names identically, Jesse detected a ripple at “Kazzak.” A warlock skilled in reading emotions, he still paled beside Molofeel’s perception.

“Order him to confess why he loathes Kazzak, master,” she urged, triumph threading her voice.

“Speak,” Jesse commanded. “By my will, reveal your hatred for Kazzak.”

“Because he’s a craven coward!” Kallez bellowed instantly. “Lord Kil’jaeden was duped to crown him chief of all Doomlords! His strength? A lie—he cowers behind the Legion in battle, swaddled in wards and shields, never bloodied! I lead every charge, heed every subordinate’s call! My deeds eclipse that empty title a thousandfold!”

“Ever wonder if that’s why you’re trapped here?” Saenor sneered involuntarily.

“Who spoke?!” Kallez craned his neck. “Too feeble to even hear clearly…”

“What?!” Saenor shrilled, silenced as Jesse shoved him into the pack.

Molofeel eyed Jesse’s pouch, then addressed the Doomlord. “So your ambition is Ered’ruin kingship. Pity my master won’t indulge that.”

She turned to Jesse. “Your move, master?”

“One thing I will grant,” Jesse said. “Kazzak’s death. Like you, Kallez. His fall inches you closer to that throne—though whether you’d outrival other Doomlords for Kil’jaeden’s favor remains unclear…”

“You don’t even know Kazzak,” Kallez cut in bluntly. “Mortal presumption never ceases to astonish.”

“I know more than you credit.” Jesse flexed his fingers. “This serves us both. Obey me, and I’ll engineer Kazzak’s end. Perfect.”

“Now voice the spell with this term, Kallez. Command.”

Kallez seethed, but enslavement magic choked his fury, wrenching the contract words from him. As Jesse chanted, even Molofeel’s playful demeanor stiffened.

Midway, shadowy runes glowed beneath his feet, recalling the eerie communion when summoning a succubus from the Twisting Nether.

Upon completion, his perception of the demon shifted—the crushing aura vanished though Kallez stood unchanged.

Nearby, the female warlock Demisette Cloyce watched, expression strained. “Remember your vow, Jesse Seso!” Kallez growled.

“I remember,” Jesse murmured. “I’ll devise his death swiftly. Patience, Lord Kallez.”

“But master,” Molofeel interjected, “you’ve yet to finish Master Malin’s report.”

“Right.” Jesse slapped his forehead.

“Knew it!” Kallez thundered. “Deceitful runt!”

“And powerless to alter it,” Jesse replied. “Accept reality and ease your temper. We’ve collaborations ahead.”