Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power Chapter 458: The Boys

Chapter 458 – The Boys

"Let’s join forces, boys." Dancer’s proposition caused both Loup and White to react, though the sentiments flickering across their faces were vastly different.

Loup appeared taken aback, instinctively shielding himself with a wary gaze. He made no effort to mask his lack of faith in the man lounging so nonchalantly before him.

White, by contrast, seemed strangely at ease. He met Dancer’s words with an unnervingly wide grin, his pale, exotic eyes shimmering with an ashen, smoky intensity.

Clearly, there were wheels turning within his mind; thus, it came as little surprise when he reclaimed the floor.

"Joining forces, you propose," White drawled, his voice thick with a languid slur, "but such a partnership only functions if our objectives converge."

He tilted his head to the side. "Do they?"

"Pah!" Loup let out a sharp, dismissive sound, his expression souring. "How could we possibly answer that when he hasn't even revealed his purpose? Besides, look at his face, White. He is clearly not to be trusted. So, no. I won't—!"

"Hold your tongue, Newbie." White pressed a finger to his own smiling lips. For some inexplicable reason, Loup obeyed instantly. Though he felt a twinge of regret the moment the thought crossed his mind, White had already discarded him to focus back on Dancer.

"In truth, I don't strictly need to know your agenda," White shrugged. "It would be polite, of course, but I have grown accustomed to collaborating with those whose ultimate goals remain shrouded in shadow."

'Just like the Seer,' he pondered. 'Can anyone truly fathom what lies behind her eyes? I would give anything to know. Ah, right, the Anthropologist mentioned something of the sort when we pestered him. What was it again?'

The words of the Anthropologist suddenly echoed through his memory.

'There are blessings, and then there are burdens. True Wisdom is earned. Above all, wisdom lies in understanding what one must grasp and what one must leave in the dark.'

White’s expression shifted as a sudden, sharp realization dawned upon him, illuminating the Anthropologist's cryptic lesson.

He raised his hand to his mouth, struggling to contain himself before breaking into a fit of unrestrained laughter.

"Splendid! Absolutely splendid! He was right!" he barked. He recalled a day when The Harvester had interjected while the Seer was growing weary of the Anthropologist’s endless historical lectures—the kind that taught only that nothing truly changes, merely the figures on the stage.

'Do not disparage the Anthropologist,' The Harvester had said, his voice deep and warm. 'If I am not inherently gifted with Wisdom, I shall acquire a man who possesses it. Keep him close. You will find his utility invaluable, I assure you.'

As the true weight of his god’s foresight settled in, White was overcome with a tide of devotion. He promptly rose to his feet and knelt upon the ground, prostrating himself.

Loup and Dancer exchanged a baffled look, entirely unable to grasp the sudden turn in the madman's behavior.

But White was absorbed in a realm where his god’s presence filled the marrow of his soul. He bowed low, pressing his forehead firmly against the earth, and whispered with profound reverence:

"All praise to The Harvester, Lord of Blood and Master of the Crimson Star. I am yours. May my soul prove worthy of your service, so that you may cradle it within your sacred Hands when my time comes to an end."

Dancer shivered at the proclamation, his eyes widening in alarm.

Loup, meanwhile, looked torn, seemingly locked in an internal argument over how to handle this scene. Yet, the young wolf was not one for deep meditation; he was a creature of action.

'I don't know this entity, but the man before me surely saved my life. If this is the god he follows, I shall follow him as well.'

Without further hesitation, he mirrored White, pressing his forehead into the dusty floor.

"All praise to The Harvester—"

Here, as if seized by an otherworldly influence beyond his comprehension, Loup felt his lips move of their own accord.

"—Blood of Humanity, Blessed Child of Two Worlds. I belong to you. Let the crimson star reveal itself, that a Path might be carved through the gloom with its sanguine light."

The very air seemed to freeze, and a crimson luminescence began to bleed through the atmosphere.

"This is madness," Dancer muttered, his voice cracking as he tilted his head to scan the sky. There, veiled by wisps of shadow, a blood-red star blazed.

His face drained of color. Before the shock could fully hit him, White and Loup had already climbed back to their feet.

"The Crimson Star has granted us its witness," White announced, grinning wildly. "Your proposal is accepted. We shall walk this road together."

"Who... who are you people?" Dancer pressed, his throat parched.

"Do you truly desire the answer?" White countered.

Dancer hesitated, sensing the peril hidden in the query. Yet, curiosity, as unyielding as a blade, pushed him forward.

"State it," he replied, his voice unexpectedly firm.

White’s smile grew taut. "As you wish."

He offered a theatrical bow.

"I am White, one of the Four Apostles of the Crimson Veil," he declared. "We serve The Harvester."

He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Dancer’s glowing, heart-shaped pupils. "Do you seek further enlightenment regarding our beloved Lord?"

Dancer swallowed hard, offering a strained grimace.

"If we are to be allies," he managed, "I must know who will guard my back should disaster strike. Proceed."

White nodded. "To begin then, what is your name?"

"They call me Dancer."

"And to whom do you offer worship?"

"I prefer aged, plumper women. The married and saggy ones are my weakness," Dancer retorted. "Though Cupid has his own designs on me, it seems."

Loup spat on the ground. "You're nothing but a man-whore."

"Oh, hush. Your compliments make me blush."

Loup snarled, while White let out a sharp, barking laugh.

"Oh, this will be a magnificent tale for Crimson, Silver, and Bald! Hahaha! I’ve been saddled with a virgin and a man-whore—that shall be the title! I simply cannot wait! Hahahaha!"

Dancer and Loup glared at White, their eyes twitching in unison.

"I swear, I’ll end you one day."

"Are those three you mentioned beautiful women?"

"Do you have a death wish, Dancer?"

"Oh, my..."

—End of Chapter 458—