Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power-Chapter 465: Welcome

Chapter 465 – Welcome

Kaden’s world darkened.

Slowly, methodically, and with a grueling pain far beyond anything he had ever experienced, he felt his life slipping away like water through fingers.

His body was convulsing nonstop — jerking and jolting up and down, his heart destroyed and reduced to a mass of mangled flesh. It was a wonder he was still breathing at all. Each gasp felt like it demanded an effort equal to a mortal moving a whole mountain.

He was clinging to his life far tighter than he himself expected, even though he knew that after the attack just now... he could come back with his death coins.

But Kaden was reluctant.

He had already said it before. Each life was an opportunity, and death would only take him when he had done everything he could and still failed.

He had failed multiple times. That day was also a day of failure.

BADUM—!

Or not.

Kaden’s body jolted like a heartbeat. Inside him, something ridiculous was happening, something few would dare believe.

His body had been completely destroyed by his last attack, pushed far beyond his Limit in order to deliver an irreversible wound to the Echo of Warren.

But here was the key part of it all. Kaden had done it by his own choice. He had chosen to break his body, and because of that — because of his Will — his body had not instinctively limited itself.

But what would happen when foreign substances entered that same body?

The answer was obvious. It would rebel instantly, instinctively, to protect its own space.

So it came as no surprise that when the purple poison from the Saintess’s attack transgressed his body, Kaden’s immune system woke and worked overtime against a serious threat.

The reaction was explosive, and it pulled into the process the second heart of Kaden.

The Heart of Runes.

BADUM—! BADUM—! BADUM—!

The heartbeat grew louder yet somehow more contained as time passed. Kaden’s body became riddled with runes, runes that amplified the efficiency of his internal defense.

His cells began regenerating faster than the poison could destroy them. And in doing so, his body was rebuilding itself in a way never seen before.

All the while, Blanche watched the scene with dismay. She was terribly wounded from the last assault against Forbidden, compounded by the destruction of Kaden’s Heart of Fire.

Her core resided in that fire, after all.

But it was precisely because of that she knew not everything was gone, and she could still rebuild herself. It would just take time.

Far too much time, given where they were.

She let out a low screech of pain before pushing herself past her own limit to help her master. And with that act, Blanche lost consciousness entirely, sinking into a deep, profound sleep.

Kaden’s body was set ablaze — pure, immaculate white fire.

Reditha felt her companion disappear, and did nothing but bite her bloody lip as she helped Kaden with his blood manipulation to accelerate the healing.

It was not the time for grief, she shouted inwardly at herself.

Steadily, colour was returning to Kaden’s face. The purple poison was being neutralised. His body was being stitched back together.

He was conscious through all of it, yet unable to do anything but grit his teeth — eyes streaming — praying for the process to end sooner rather than later.

His body felt like a catastrophic war unfolding inside him, reducing everything to ruin only to rebuild it again.

He was coughing without stop, blood spilling from his mouth in cascades, his nails digging through the earth beneath him until they cracked.

’Arghhhh!’

He growled, the war inside him continuing without mercy.

Meanwhile, the Saintess still held Rea. Her monstrous face hovered close to Rea’s, yet she seemed afraid to go any further, staring at her with an expression that couldn’t quite be defined.

She looked lost on what to do.

But not for long.

Cradling Rea carefully, the Whimpering Saintess strode toward the destroyed altar at the centre of the collapsing church, her feet crunching stone and bone alike.

Her mind was so locked onto her duty that she never noticed the strange phenomenon occurring with Kaden.

Seconds later she arrived before it. Only then could one see it: a small sculpture of a woman standing on one part of the shattered altar.

The Sculpture of the Woeful One. The Goddess of Sorrow.

The Saintess raised Rea’s right hand and cut her wrist with quiet efficiency.

Blood gushed out. Not the usual red, but a deep black that made the surrounding air feel as though it was on the verge of weeping.

The black blood rained down onto the sculpture. The world immediately held its breath.

Behind, Kaden felt his chest tighten like a clenched fist.

He choked, coughed, eyes red and ragged, barely managing to lift his head just in time to witness something nightmarish.

The sculpture, bathed in Rea’s black blood, cracked then exploded into sprays of stone and blood.

A head emerged from it. A woman’s head, crying blood, clawing at her own face with nails slick with flesh and red.

She was weeping. And she wept so hard, so loud, that the dungeon trembled with every sob.

Her face was eerily similar to the Saintess.

Kaden’s head twisted. He gasped, eyes bulging, and snapped his gaze toward Rea.

She was crying. Rea was crying, eyes closed, black blood trailing down her face.

A pain deeper than any physical wound bloomed in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. But he didn’t need a heart to feel what he felt watching Rea in such state.

The cries of Rea and the bodiless woman fell into perfect rhythm. They no longer sounded like two beings weeping. They sounded like one — a single voice carrying the weight of the world’s entire sorrow.

And at that exact instant, The Will chimed.

DING!

Kaden’s mind began to slowly shut down.

[Hidden Condition has been fulfilled.]

[The Dungeon of the Whimpering Saintess is revealing its true appearance.]

The dungeon and everything within — Kaden, Rea, the Saintess — began to glow.

’W-What?’

That was all he managed before the light grew bright enough to blind him and pull him under completely.

Not just him. Everyone lost consciousness. Even the Saintess. Even the weeping head.

Nothing moved.

And that was precisely when everything began to move, but not in the way things normally did.

As if the direction of the Wheel itself had been altered, time inside the dungeon shifted and began flowing backwards.

The world inside changed, visibly. One by one, things began to disappear, unmaking themselves, only to remake themselves sturdier, newer, whole.

Nothing was destroyed anymore.

The church looked new, crafted with care, no trace of the previous ruin left. The Saintess’s body vanished alongside the weeping head, swallowed as if by an invisible jaw.

Rea’s body levitated upward and settled slowly onto the altar, resting like a divine, untouchable being in eternal slumber.

And beyond the church doors, there was now sound.

People chatting, laughing, going about their day as the sun rose.

[Welcome to the Village of the Unfinished Tower.]

—End of Chapter 465—