Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power

Chapter 461: Chapter 461: Lesson to Learn

Chapter 461 – Lesson to Learn

"I know the past, you know the future." Anthropologist said, sitting calmly, his back against the bark of a tree. "Aren’t we the best duo, Seer?"

"You think so?" Vaela answered with a smooth tone, sitting on a chair of blood made by Kaden, her face tilting toward the crimson sun overhead. "That’s cute, but I prefer to be the best duo with Kaden."

"That was a surprisingly expected answer." He shook his head.

Vaela chuckled lightly, her eyes taking on the red tint of the sun. "But I have to admit, it’s true. Still, aren’t you more advantaged than me?"

"Oh?" Anthropologist inquired, brown eyebrows arching up.

Vaela continued smoothly. "You know the past, Anthropologist. At least, you know many of the events that happened before. And you came to know all of them by yourself, without the help of any particular power."

She paused, sparing him a swift but piercing glance. "That’s impressive."

"Don’t make me blush, Seer."

"You are a rock, Anthropologist."

"A valid point in a normal world. Do you know where we live?"

"Are you going to start another history lesson?" Vaela softly groaned. "No, please. Instead, can you do something for me? I’ve been wondering how to approach the matter with the Wolves Kingdom since last time. Enlighten me, Anthropologist. Use the knowledge of the past to point toward the future."

She turned her head fully toward him. "You can do that, can’t you? You have enough knowledge to think of something most wouldn’t dare consider."

"That’s where you’d be wrong, Seer." He shook his head firmly. "Let me tell you something ironic about History, dear captain."

He raised a finger, smiling faintly at Vaela.

"History is, at its core, a record of unprecedented events — things that happened and changed the whole world in meaningful ways. What would you take away from it, if it were up to you?"

"Life is unpredictable?" she tried.

Anthropologist clapped his hands, the sound like shattering rock. "Exactly! Life is unpredictable! That’s the main lesson History teaches us. Yet people use it to predict future events. To assume something will happen again simply because it happened before."

He sneered.

"They always fail. What caused an event in the past does not necessarily hold in our times. That’s why I never step outside my boundaries, Seer."

He gestured broadly. "You take care of the future. Create it, and we will walk it. And I will record our History along the way. That is my purpose now."

"To record the History of the Crimson Veil?"

"Oh? Well, that’s only part of it."

Anthropologist laughed. "What I want to record is the history and path of our dear Master, Kaden Warborn. The Crimson Veil is an extension of him, so it will earn a Chapter or two inside."

"What about me?" Vaela grinned.

"As the Crimson Seer of the Owner of the Crimson Star, how dare I not give you three Chapters?"

"Make it more."

Anthropologist’s lips twitched. "Three is enough, Seer. We must keep—!"

"Make it more."

"Can we discu—!"

"Make it more."

"Harvester’s bloody eyes, fine!" Anthropologist cursed, relenting, knowing full well he was going to lose regardless.

He sighed, settled back against the tree, and looked up at the bloody sun above. He parted his lips once more, something stirring inside him.

"I wonder what the Master is doing right now."

"Achieving things worth remembering." Vaela said with quiet confidence. "Things unheard of."

"Well, those are the only things worth recording," Anthropologist bared his teeth. "Things that have never happened before happen all the time. That much, we historians know. But among them, there are those that go beyond."

"Those are the things that make gods tremble in their beloved abodes."

"My Kaden is good at that." Vaela whispered. "That’s why we must be good at it too. Didn’t you say it yourself? We are the extension of Kaden’s Will. We like what he likes. We hate what he hates. We do what he does. No matter what."

"And what do you wish for right now, Seer?" Anthropologist inquired, his smile widening steadily.

Vaela matched his expression completely. "What else? I want the sealed, destroyed, pitiful Ascendant of the Soul in my hands. Call Abomination and Ruined. We are going."

Anthropologist let out a loud bark of laughter.

"You know, Seer, there is a common lie that mortals and gods alike love to repeat."

"Enlighten me, Anthropologist."

"But of course. It’s simple: History always repeats itself."

They locked their curving, sinister eyes together.

"That’s a bloody lie, Seer. History never repeats itself. But do you know who does?"

He didn’t wait for an answer.

"Man always does." He said, pointing at the two of them. "And right now, dear comrade, we are repeating a very old pattern."

"Where will that pattern lead us?"

"To either Ascendancy or Ruin. How does that make you feel?"

Vaela cackled.

"Like never before."

Anthropologist slowly rose to his feet. "Oh, I think I can relate to that. Now, let’s begin."

He cracked his neck.

"Let’s join the unending Divine Games."

...

"Will you join the Divine Games, Chosen One?" The voice of Forbidden echoed. Kaden was now standing before the unconscious Rea, his crimson eyes not leaving the inhuman face of Nameless.

’Divine Games? Ah... is that it?’ He thought, things beginning to slowly click into place.

"You know the Divine Games, don’t you? Oh, but of course you do. It’s a game, Chosen One, that the whole World is involved in. Knowingly or unknowingly."

Nameless laughed harshly, without an ounce of humour. "Either as a pitiless pawn or a real player. So what are you? You already know, don’t you?"

’I do.’

Kaden mused inwardly, taking a deep breath. He needed to, in order to keep himself calm, in order to not doom himself.

And yet he couldn’t help but let his mind run through every encounter with gods or divine beings he had ever had.

First it was Nocthar. Then The Slave, not forgetting the mention of The Hero watching him through the Will.

After that came Thirty-Three, who wanted him for his Emptiness and spoke of him being a shapeshifter.

’Shapeshifter...?’

His thoughts paused briefly, then pressed on.

After that bastard came Kol’Riku, who sought to curse him for Sora’s sake, then The Witch, whose dungeon he now had the location of.

And now it ended with the Woeful, obsessed with his own fiancée, wanting nothing more than to devour her.

But if there was one being with a truly ubiquitous presence in his life, it was the dead God of Death.

’And now here I am, being offered the very Echo of Warren, something I don’t even fully understand, from the dead God of Death himself.’

It felt as though a wheel was turning, and the loop was slowly beginning to close.

From every side, Kaden felt trapped. He felt like a man standing alone and broken in an arena, the heavens rotten with eyes watching him like an object — something to be used, manipulated, killed, a whetstone for their ambitions, a vessel for their curses.

Just a thing.

Yes. To the gods, that was what Kaden was. A product. But a unique and extraordinary product, one that could perfectly carry them higher on the ladder of the Divine Games.

Kaden was aware of it now. No. He had always known. The signs had always been there.

But no matter how brave he was, moving against the divine was tantamount to suicide. Even for him.

Everything has a breaking point, though.

In the same way water boils when the fire burns too hot — and risks explosion — a man who has been pushed to the edge will always fight back, blood boiling inside his veins.

And it always happens in the ugliest, most predictable way.

Ah well. Not that day.

If there was one correct lesson that surprises taught, it was that the World itself was surprise.

But it was a lesson few ever truly understood — gods included.

So that day, Kaden Warborn took the heavy burden of reminding the World of exactly that...

"You asked for it."

...The World was surprise.

What followed was a flash.

Nameless had no time to defend himself.

—End of Chapter 461—