Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power Chapter 412: River Kingdom

Observing her daughter draw nearer and nearer to her own mother with each passing day, Rose felt a mix of emotions.

Rose understood her mother's nature well, so it astonished her to witness the Empress devoting so much time to Valentine.

After all, the Empress had scarcely spent any moments with her during her own childhood.

To her chagrin, this stirred up both delight and envy within Rose simultaneously.

'Yet it holds no importance anymore.' Rose reflected, her gaze dull and tinged with sorrow. 'My daughter alone keeps me anchored to this existence. I refuse to forsake you after my past mistakes. However...'

She halted, hesitant to pursue that line of thinking further. Nevertheless, she pressed on.

'Should my mother come to fully embrace you... perhaps... just perhaps I could depart and entrust you to her care.'

That desire consumed her entirely.

The empire no longer held any sway over her heart. Truth be told, it never had. But these days, the indifference had deepened.

Only her daughter and Asael compelled her to shoulder the weight her mother imposed upon her.

Rose wouldn't deceive herself. Her affection for Asael surpassed that for Valentine. Yet Asael's devotion to Valentine eclipsed his feelings for her.

What a twisted irony.

Asael stood prepared to sacrifice anything for her sake. She mirrored that readiness—but solely if he remained by her side, united in purpose.

He had been her unwavering shadow, shielding and soothing her amid the crumbling of her world.

All of that had vanished now. Two years had slipped by, yet the scars and agony lingered as raw and intense as the day they formed.

With a heavy sigh, Rose tore her gaze from Lydia and Valentine.

She spun around and departed, intent on immersing herself in rigorous training until exhaustion claimed both body and spirit.

The instant she vanished from sight, Lydia turned her head, fixing her eyes on the very place Rose had occupied moments before.

She lingered there for quite some time before letting out a breath and gently shaking her head.

'Love... Love... Love...' she pondered silently, her attention on her granddaughter who fumbled blindly to snag a squirrel with a cloth over her eyes.

'This turn of events ought to bring me joy,' she went on. 'Yet oddly...'

In that moment, the Empress of the Damned pondered the extent of her transformation over the last two years—and the reasons behind it.

No sooner had that query surfaced in her thoughts than Lydia caught herself smiling as Valentine triumphantly seized a squirrel.

"Grandma! Grandma! I got it!" Valentine bounced around excitedly, her laughter so endearing that it thawed Lydia's icy heart.

Suppressing her grin, she called out sternly,

"Four more to go, Val!"

Valentine muttered complaints under her breath right away and resumed her task, whispering how her father would have lavished her with praise for ages over this feat.

Lydia nearly erupted into unrestrained chuckles.

Luckily, she held it back again.

Still, her frame trembled with the effort.

"Hurry up, Val!"

"I know!!"

...

In the meantime, deep in the West of Fokay, within the heart of the River Kingdom's capital, Eau, a figure cloaked in a black hood moved through the crowds, clad in unfamiliar attire.

Eau stood out as an unusual capital, unlike anything Asael had encountered before. Not that his experiences were vast, of course.

The River Kingdom itself offered a fresh wonder. Nestled amid towering mountains, winding rivers, and verdant meadows dotted with dense forests teeming with riches and perils alike.

One might puzzle over how this realm had evaded conquest for so long, given the bounty it harbored.

Asael grasped the secret now.

The kingdom's strategic location proved its greatest defense. Encircled by steep mountain ridges and profound rivers on nearly every flank, launching an assault demanded an impossible effort.

No sane force would wage a doomed war.

Beyond that, the wealth of resources allowed the kingdom to flourish economically, forge skilled troops and commanders, and even advance further by crafting weapons of such terror that their mere titles chilled the bones of rival powers.

, the kingdom's blacksmiths boasted with pride.

Asael offered no remark. He scanned his surroundings, his steps silent on the wooden planks.

The locals all bore fair skin, stood tall with elongated limbs and slender builds packed with taut muscles. Both men and women wore their hair in braids.

Women typically sported a single large braid, while men favored lengthy tresses.

Occasionally, Asael spotted women with dual large braids. Upon inquiring once, he learned they signified unmarried women or girls not yet of marrying age.

Their dwellings consisted of timber from naturally felled trees and pelts from hunted creatures, adorned with vibrant blooms in every hue.

It presented a striking scene, though Asael found it hard to savor, aware of his mission in this place.

'Exhaustion weighs on me.' Asael whispered to himself inwardly before halting before a wooden door.

He pulled back his hood, releasing a quiet breath. Then he eased his expression, allowing his striking features to emerge despite the burden in his eyes.

Afterward, Asael raised his right hand and rapped on the door thrice in steady rhythm.

He lingered in anticipation.

Yet the wait proved brief, for the door soon creaked open inward. A fair-skinned woman with twin braids, attired in a maid's outfit and knee-high stockings, emerged. Her locks were emerald, her dark eyes sly like a playful feline's.

"Well," the woman drawled, "why linger out there with that sulky look, Asael?"

She stepped aside, revealing the warmth of her home's interior.

"Come in, won't you?"

Asael flashed a contrived smile and crossed the threshold. "Thanks, Romia."

Romia shut the door after him, pressing her back against it while eyeing Asael where he stood before her.

"Is it all set?" Asael asked straightaway, glancing about the space.

The home kept things straightforward. Walls painted in green hues, furnished with basics like a sofa, a table, and distinctive ornaments.

"Indeed." Romia replied, toying with her dual braids. "The Prince lost his dedicated Guardian in a clash beyond the borders against a Forest Lord. He's seeking a replacement to fill the vacancy now."

She grinned.

"This opens the door for you to infiltrate the Royal Family, Asael."

Asael inclined his head. "The moment has arrived." He agreed, then cast a wary glance at Romia. "That said, explain how you caused the Guardian's death. And how did they buy that tale of a Forest Lord? Everyone knows those entities aren't simple to encounter."

"Would you reveal how you uncovered my true identity if I spill?"

Asael shot her a faint, mocking grin. "In your dreams."

"Figured as much." Romia lifted her shoulders dismissively. "Then my lips stay sealed. But Asael..."

She advanced, her footsteps groaning on the worn wooden boards below, pausing a few paces from him.

Her hands rose to straighten his garments. Asael still struggled with their foreign fashion.

"...I trust you'll honor your promise." Romia murmured. "It'd be regrettable if not."

Asael met her obsidian gaze without emotion. "You stay silent," he growled, "and so will I."

Romia's mouth curved into a broad, genuine beam.

"Silence is my strongest suit," she declared.

"Fitting for an assassin, I'd wager."

"That tone dripped with too much disdain, grumpy Asael."

"You must have misheard." Asael countered. "When does the new Guardian selection occur?"

"Three days from now." Romia responded, retreating a few steps. "Are you prepared? You're a Grandmaster, facing off against Epithets."

"Prepared? No." Asael stated. "I'm already set."

He rolled his neck with a crack. "Regardless of my rivals' levels."

His words ended just as a faint noise echoed through the chamber.

With uncanny timing, Asael and Romia whipped their heads toward a tiny wooden wheel that spun relentlessly.

As their stares fixed upon it, the wheel toppled over.

"What's that device?" Asael cocked his head, a peculiar unease stirring in his chest.

"Picked it up around here." Romia answered, her brow furrowing a touch.

They dismissed it with shakes of their heads, turning to weightier concerns.

Asael extended his hand in an offer of clasp toward Romia. She regarded it cautiously, puzzled by the motion.

Asael nodded in realization, recalling Kaden as the one who'd shown him this custom. The memory stirred an unexpected melancholy.

"It's known as a handshake." Asael clarified. "Used for—er—I'm not sure... perhaps sealing partnerships or deals, that sort of thing?"

Romia let out a light laugh at Asael's hesitant tone and face. "Sounds intriguing." She remarked, reaching out to take his hand.

Asael pulled back at the last second.

He shot her a withering glare. "Can't you drop the concealed blades for once, you damn assassin?"

Romia burst into laughter. "You caught it again! Hahaha! Asael, you're incredible. Ever thought of joining the assassin life? You've got the knack, I promise! I'd induct you into the Assassins of Threnovar myself!"

"Shut your mouth." Asael snapped, bracing to depart, already cursing his choice to demonstrate the handshake to this irritating killer.

Romia chuckled as she saw him stride out of her home without a backward look.

After his departure, she gradually lifted her hand and examined it. Every trace of expression drained from her features.

"A handshake, eh..."

She formed a peculiar smile.

—End of Chapter 412—