Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power Chapter 423: A life given for a life taken

King Fenrir and his wolf gazed upon Koftilo's body, which stained the floor in deep red. A foul smell of blood and urine hung heavy in the air, enveloping the chamber like a terrifying veil.

The King's gaze remained icy and sharp, his pupils shrinking and throbbing as he examined the remains, as though perceiving details hidden from all others.

Moments passed before the King let out a deep grunt. The sound echoed lowly and powerfully across the throne hall, marked by scars from battles long gone.

At the sound of the grunt, the wolf unleashed a soft howl, then stood up slowly, its savage eyes gleaming with intense hunger.

The creature approached the lifeless form with deliberate, silent steps, moving as if commanding time to bend to its will.

Reaching the body, the wolf lowered its head, its tongue darting out to lap up the spilled blood with sinister delight.

But it pressed on further. It advanced steadily until it faced Koftilo's rigid, terrified expression. The man had been denied even the mercy of closing his eyes in death.

And now, no dignified resting place awaited him either.

With deliberate slowness and ravenous appetite, the King's wolf started consuming Koftilo.

The head went first, chewed apart like a crumb of bread under an insect's bite. It burst open, splattering the wolf with gruesome fluids.

Then came the torso, torn apart to reveal a brutal display of muscle, skeleton, and gore spraying everywhere.

Within the cavity, an unnatural quiet gripped the innards. They had ceased their pulsations. No more did they pulse with vital energy.

This scene invited thoughts on mortality, yet the wolf cared little for such contemplations.

Thus, it devoured onward, jaws slick with crimson, bits of tissue and viscera caught in its fang-like dentition.

Throughout, the King observed intently. A spark lit in his eyes, and soon he noticed the wolf enveloped in a gentle but fierce red glow that throbbed like a heartbeat.

Few could perceive it, but every throb of that red radiance synced with a faint tremor shaking all of Fenrir City.

Something seemed to awaken—or attempt to—yet quickly, the disturbance faded into calm.

"A life given for a life taken." The King murmured, his feral eyes alight. "But these lives fall short. Far too short. Tell me, Fen, how much longer?"

"King O King, you understand your next steps clearly, do you not?" The wolf lifted its gore-streaked muzzle, twisting to lock eyes with the King. "A life given for a life taken. Yet those lives need true value, King. Ah, the life you've claimed is far too significant, King. Your end draws close."

"I will not fall, Fen."

"A life given for a life taken."

The wolf bared a toothy grin, displaying its blood-soaked fangs like prized spoils.

"The law demands it, as you well know?"

The King offered no reply, his stare drifting to a far wall in the throne room. There hung a massive depiction of a wolf, the sole artwork adorning the space.

Still, its contents remained obscured to all. A mysterious force veiled it, one beyond even the King's power to dispel.

A chill of dread seeped into his lifeless core, but the King was royalty. And no true sovereign yields to terror. Certainly not King Fenrir.

"You understand, right?"

"Understand what, King O King?"

"The ring." The King turned back to the wolf, a growl escaping him. "You know the location of the Ring of Ragnarok. What scheme unfolds now, Fen? Which deities seek to meddle in my domain?"

"The ring's whereabouts escape even me, my King." The wolf frowned deeply. "And it endangers me more than it does you. You're fully cognizant of that fact."

"As for the gods..." the wolf shook its head. "The gods vowed to avert their gaze from us."

"Those gods' promises hold as much value as a harlot's murmurs in the shadows of night."

"Still, King O King, you agreed to the pact."

"You know the reason."

"Indeed, I do. I stand as living testament to that agreement. But tell me, King O King, does the price justify it?" The wolf inquired, padding closer to the throne at last. "Is the gain worth the sacrifice?"

"It shall be." The King replied in a frosty tone.

"At what price?"

The King hesitated, his gaze lingering where Koftilo's body had rested just before. Now, emptiness reigned. The insatiable wolf had claimed it all.

Even the skeleton. Even the vital organ. Even the essence.

After brief reflection, the King responded to Fen's query, his tone unyielding like unmovable stone.

"I will bear the toll for Ascendancy."

"Rising to power while abandoning naught but cadavers for lame beasts to scavenge offers no true honor."

"Nor does fading away as a pitiful human, Fen."

The wolf chuckled softly, snorted, then sprawled out beneath the throne in idle repose.

"A life given for a life taken."

The wolf growled finally, shutting its eyes, as the throne room sank back into profound, shadowy quiet.

In kind, the King shut his eyes, his form cloaked in gloom, twisting uneasily.

...

At the same instant, atop a towering pagoda housing a single chamber—or rather, a separate dimension—a figure hovered in lotus position above the floor.

This dimension felt otherworldly, brimming with pale vapors that drifted endlessly, twisting, roiling, rotating like a cycle folding inward on itself.

At its center floated a male form—if sight could be trusted—with features entirely wrapped in bandages, invisible to view.

Only his golden eyes showed—and they resembled unyielding rock. No emotion or vitality flickered within. They could pass for lifeless, and no one would argue otherwise.

Mechanically, he tilted his head skyward, jolting the dimension as if hammered by force, feeling a quiver deep in his core essence.

His eyes tightened for a second, following the ripple's origin as a vision surged through his thoughts.

Indifferently, the man observed the vision until its conclusion.

He dropped his head once more, plunging into extended quiet, his thoughts racing over the meaning of the sight.

Then his voice boomed forth, laced with immense might capable of razing metropolises effortlessly.

"Providence favors me at last, it seems." The man stated, his eyes arching in a hollow bid for mirth. "The moment arrives."

With a snap of his finger, a surge of energy burst out, only to vanish utterly, drawn into a gateway and delivered to its intended recipient.

The figure composed himself anew, delving back into contemplation, his drive now reaching unprecedented heights.

For the hour had struck.

Yes.

The time had truly come to...

"Death Without Death." He murmured.

...join the Gambit!

...

In the heart of Fokay, Milieu, within the grandest metropolis of Tokitoki, lay a vast subterranean network stretching for kilometers beneath the surface.

And in the Order Orion sector of that hidden expanse, Saul bolted upright in bed, rigid as a vision pierced his mind.

Within, the enigmatic mask quivered and vibrated, dispatching a pulse of will that morphed into clear messages in his thoughts.

He drew in a sharp breath, gripping his hands tightly, lids sealed, striving to soothe his pounding pulse.

Soon after, he unveiled his eyes, fixing them on the plain dark ceiling overhead. Nearby on a ledge sat a photo of his companions—including Maryam.

"So it's time."

Saul whispered, draping his arm over his face, lips quivering faintly.

"What perfect timing."

— End of Chapter 423 —