Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power

Chapter 394: Chapter 394: Flaming Wheel

Chapter 394 – Flaming Wheel

The two fated continued to dance, basking themselves in the loud music and the occasional howling of the wolves around them.

The tavern’s stench was heavy on the nose. The dancing floor, in some parts, was slippery, caused by the vomit and piss of the customers.

Sometimes, fights would erupt, drowning the other half of the tavern into chaos, with splintered wooden tables and scatterings of blood momentarily painting the air.

Yet weirdly, none of those fights found their way onto the dance floor.

In fact, they personally made sure never to disrupt the dancing event, as if it was some kind of sacred agreement between them.

All of that was something neither Kaden nor Rea paid any attention to.

Their minds seemed to be in a haze, in a sort of impossible link as they moved across the dancing floor in a harmonious way, like pools of yin and yang, not changing partners even when they had to — earning them some grunts and curses from others.

The two seemed to reconnect with each other after such a long time far from one another.

No words were spoken since the proposal of the dance.

Instead, each one was looking at the other, taking in the differences in physical appearance from what they remembered.

The shift was drastic.

Appearance could fool the wisest person in a room, they usually said. Yet sometimes — most of the time, even — the clothes, the adornments, the posture of a being could give you a glimpse of the person itself.

It could make you know many things. Things many would ignore, yet for trained eyes it was everything.

Appearance could make you taste the culture of a person. And once you knew the culture of someone... you already knew the core aspect of their being.

So, Rea watched — no, analyzed — the refined and simple black clothes of Kaden, coupled with high black boots that surprisingly made no sound at all.

There were his crimson starry eyes that glowed with such a brilliant light that Rea felt like she was dancing among stars when she stared at them.

Warm and inviting.

Another thing was how quiet and steady his gaze was. Kaden was looking at her, giving her all his attention, yet Rea felt that nothing in the tavern could escape his gaze.

To not finish, there was in Kaden a kind of warmth impossible to miss.

The kind that made her heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly. Her breathing would always quicken each time their bodies glided against each other. Even more so as she experienced the hot air of his breath grazing her neck.

At such actions, Rea felt the instinctive urge to pull away from him.

Kaden was like a blazing, scalding sun that threatened to burn away all the mental barriers she had erected to keep her sanity — and the wrathful goddess — intact, ready to collapse like sand.

She felt so comfortable that she harbored the urge to open her mouth and let her wounded soul speak.

Oh, how much she wished to let someone know the burden she was carrying. To let a being inside of her and show who she truly was now.

Someone different from Einar, who was as broken, or even more so, than her.

Rea then began to regret the dance. Yet she loved it just as much, suppressing a moan of satisfaction as the illusion of tranquility after such a long time shrouded her whole body.

Inside of her, there was a terrible tension of opposites. Her existence seemed to be pulled in different directions, making her half afraid and half happy to finally see her fiancé.

Yet despite all those boiling feelings, Rea didn’t let any of her inner turmoil color her face.

Instead, only the face of a gentle and happy young woman could be seen. One who was dancing, accompanied by the clacking sounds of the rings tied inside her hair.

If Rea was observing Kaden so deeply, managing to comprehend aspects of him through his appearance and the way he carried himself, then certainly he was able to do the same regarding her.

Kaden was quite surprised to see the new countenance of Rea. She was so different from two years ago, at that meeting with Meris and Nuke.

But then, at that thought, he inwardly chuckled dryly. ’Of course, she would change.’

Two years had passed. And no being could stay the same after so much time.

The thing that Kaden mainly wanted to know was how Rea had changed.

What type of being had she become? What was now her philosophy?

Did she finally know what she was ready to lose for her goals? Or were her goals still the same ones she had told him about?

If not, Kaden would have wished to know more about them.

If yes, why didn’t she come back to Waverith?

Was that because of him? Not wanting to marry him?

Why, after all this time, was the only thing she did send money to her father, as if it was the only thing that linked her back to her own home, her own family?

So many questions. So bloody many questions.

Yet Kaden couldn’t help but sense the gnawing of nefarious feelings as he absorbed the sight of the numerous ringed fingers of Rea, her piercings, her hair, and...

Her eyes.

They seemed to dance with joy.

But Kaden’s perception was off the charts and very unique. He could see far beyond what his fiancée was willing to display to the world.

And what he saw made him suppress a frown. But his lips twisted slightly.

Again, so many questions. The music and everything around was way too loud.

So with one quickened step, Kaden practically plastered his body against Rea, earning a startled and surprised yelp from her, and whispered gently into her ear,

"How about a small talk?" he said. "In a place where I would not have to bear these constant, irritating howls." He added with a joking tone.

The God-Touched squeezed out a smile. "Of course," she answered, taking an instinctive step back to distance herself from Kaden. Realizing what she was doing, she froze instantly, eyes widening for a heartbeat, then began to lean forward again.

She was subtly quivering.

Kaden cocked his head in puzzlement, yet before he could say anything,

"Come," Rea said, grasping gingerly his right hand, pivoting her body and beginning to lead Kaden through the swarms of beings inside the tavern toward the ladders that jutted upward. "I have rented a chamber here."

Inside her mind, Einar, the Disciple of Loss, watched the hand of Rea on Kaden with wrathful eyes.

At the corner of her perception, she saw a broken wheel rolling and rolling and...

...rolling.

...

Meanwhile, in a strange realm shrouded by a mysterious milk-white fog, a golden Wheel with intricate engravings from an unknown language was hovering just above the sea of fog, turning and turning and turning.

The Wheel was burning, a white immaculate flame shrouding its whole frame, dripping below like gouged blood from a sword-thrust, giving it an almost enchanting look.

There was a constant hissing sound reverberating inside that realm where hardly anything else existed, caused by the fog being burned by the white fire.

Yet, for some reason, the fog was constantly trying to reach out to the Wheel with tentacle-like wisps, as if wishing for nothing else but to touch it.

"Something? Right? We do something?" a voice reverberated, young and girlish.

Strangely, the moment these words echoed, one could see at the top of the turning Wheel two children, around thirteen years old or so.

A boy and a girl, with the same milk-white hair color and facial features. Twins.

The Twins of Luck.

"Not yet, Push. Not yet, Push!" the boy said, shaking his head vehemently. "Forget, we must not after the last time. Death, Push. We died!"

"It was a strange occurrence, Pull." Push said. "Something that only occurred because we didn’t know who He was. Yes, only that. And it was only one timeline. One timeline amidst all others. A timeline where we didn’t succeed in our Gambit! But now we did, Pull. Now we obtained the FlamingWheel!"

"I know. I know well." Pull nodded. "But it’s not the time to push, Push. It’s time we sit and observe and observe and observe. The others are stirring up. Some of them blood-red angry at Prometheus. Thirty-Three, that disgusting bastard, had told many that Prometheus is The Hero."

"It cannot be!" Push vehemently denied, looking at her twin with her flaming white eyes. "How many times did The Hero fool us? Too many! Too many! How many times did we think that a being was The Hero? Yet no!"

"And don’t forget, no one can obtain the aspect of a Wonder. They are Wonders for a reason!"

"Still," Pull whispered, "I wonder, Push, I truly wonder. The last time we heard about The Hero was on the seventhforbiddentimeline, when he wounded The Woeful One and snatched away Pandora."

He paused, cocking his head to the right, looking at the flaming Wheel beneath him.

"After that, no one was able to affect any of the past, as The Hero yanked away the Authority of Histories from The Will. And yet..."

His voice hardened here,

"...and yet Prometheus succeeded in changing that timeline. And he made us killed."

"Meaning, Push? What does it mean?"

"We know not." Push said, eyes like twin pools of living fire. "And we cannot know. Not when the matter is The Hero. But there is something we must do, Pull!"

"The Wheel is turning and turning and turning. These days, even faster. Faster, I say! Something is coming, and we need an anchor to the mortal world."

Pull stayed silent for a while. Many thoughts and considerations churned inside his mind like a turning of a Wheel.

Then slowly, he exhaled, steaming out milk-white fog from his nose and mouth and eyes.

"In that case," he began, "let us tempt Fate today and use the Deck of Providence. To see. We need to see who..."

He gestured with his small right hand, and something appeared in front of them.

A strange black box.

"...who is ideal for us. Yes, ideal."

CLICK—!

—End of Chapter 394—