Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power Chapter 472: Don’t Forsake Me

Sky and Keisha sprawled side by side on the grimy floor, mouths agape and exhaling hot breaths, faces drenched in sweat from a fierce round of profound ecstasy.

At that moment, they gazed vacantly at the ceiling, their eyes drifting amid the echoes of what they had just experienced — the all-engulfing bliss of passion's grip, which banished every other thought from their minds, now fading away gradually like grains slipping through clenched fingers.

They craved more. They longed for that sensation to persist eternally, never waning. Nothing else mattered but surrendering to it completely, for they had savored the taboo delight.

Return was impossible now, even if they desired it. And that was the terrifying truth. They had no such desire.

At least, not for Keisha.

Sky's mind remained clearer, however. His drive toward his objective stayed unclouded by desire.

For the time being.

Thus, he released a trembling exhale, dispersing the residual warmth, and uttered words.

"In two days." He stated firmly, allowing Keisha to pillow her weary head upon his chest. "In two days, I will confront the Heir."

"Will you be alright?" She whispered, her finger drawing lazy patterns across his chest, her gaze still hungry for more. The dragon's appetite knew no mercy, as the saying went.

"I don’t want to lose you, Sky. You are the only person I have now. The only one."

"Don’t say that." Sky winced, his expression contorting in displeasure. "You are making it sound like you love me."

"I do love you."

"You don’t, Keisha."

"I do." She pressed on. "I love you the way a cripple loves the stick that helps him walk."

Sky scoffed. "So you don’t love me. You love my role. You love what I bring into your life."

"Sexual pleasure." She affirmed bluntly.

"You are far gone." He grumbled. "But who am I to judge? I am no better. We—!"

"The same." Keisha interrupted, eyeing him. "So don’t get yourself killed by the Heir through your own arrogance. We have vengeance to deliver."

"And deliver we shall." Sky replied, his voice resolute.

Silence enveloped them both, broken only by their breaths and the gentle scrape of Keisha’s nails over Sky’s skin.

These newfound allies had voiced all that required saying.

They had defined their bond. They charted a path ahead. And above all, they possessed a purpose to propel them through the despair permeating their world.

Indeed, all was resolved. Save for one matter.

A question.

One neither dared voice, yet it swelled relentlessly with every moment, fueled by their uncertainties and terrors.

Once vengeance was achieved...

What fate awaited them?

Could they find inner peace, embrace fresh beginnings, renewed with optimism for tomorrow?

Keisha held no answer. Sky held none.

Ignorance prevailed.

That void birthed a surge of doubt and profound dread, urging them toward a shared resolve: abandon all else and dwell solely in the now.

"Let’s die delivering it." Keisha blurted abruptly, her grin tinged with frenzy. "Don’t you find it poetic? Chances are, Sky, we would be sung as heroes if we managed that."

"Who cares about being heroes."

"Only fools and children still at their mother’s breast." Keisha laughed softly. "But there are benefits. It would be perfect — truly perfect — if two monsters, hearts sick with desire, souls rotted through with vengeance, ended up remembered as heroes."

She exhaled leisurely. "And it’s easier than it sounds."

"We just need to die while taking down the bad guys." Sky surmised. "And with the right whispers, anyone can be made the villain."

"True. That would be the irony of the era." Her tone brimmed with odd thrill. "So what do you say? Let’s die, Sky. But let’s do it in a way that makes all of them twist in their graves."

Sky shut his eyes at her suggestion and murmured deliberately.

"If all my tasks are done, why not?"

Keisha burst into laughter, the shadow of an uncertain tomorrow vanishing as though it had never been.

After all, no future loomed to dread if one ensured none existed.

And thus...

"Let’s do it again."

...

Meanwhile, far within Order Orion, in Laly’s pristine and opulent chamber — where a humid, earthy aroma lingered — Tristan perched on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

A sheet draped his lower body. His torso lay exposed, revealing the honed contours of muscles forged through rigorous, purposeful training.

His gaze lifted skyward, brimming with unnamed feelings. A smile played on his lips, yet sorrow deepened in his eyes with each heartbeat. Beneath that grief simmered something darker.

A profound grudge. One nurtured over years without release, intensifying relentlessly.

Yet forthcoming developments, alongside recent upheavals, demanded no further restraint.

Restraint was obsolete. Uncle Azad was gone.

’After Mariam... after Mariam, it’s you, Uncle.’

The pain cut deep. It stung to see the finest among them fall first, time and again.

Mariam — the kind, timid soul — was lost. She who mended your hurts while weeping for them, ignoring her own. The one who blushed and dipped her head in quiet thanks whenever he prepared her meals.

That was who perished. The finest of them.

Now the next greatest had departed.

Uncle Azad. The seemingly sage, loquacious elder who dispensed life’s counsel despite his own profound disorientation.

Tristan had once remarked on it. Uncle’s retort had stunned him utterly.

’Maybe it’s because I am lost that I can advise you on how not to be,’ he had chuckled freely. ’Take me as an example. Be anything but me.’

But what he couldn’t foresee...

’If we were even a sliver of who you were, all of this would have been avoided. And I... I would not be about to do what I am about to do.’

So forgive me, Uncle Azad. Forgive me for not mirroring you. Forgive my lack of honor.

’But don’t forsake me, Uncle. Wherever you are, watch over me. Bear witness. And guide me, even as my soul wanders irretrievably lost.’

Tristan balled his fists, choking back tears that welled in his eyes, breathing in and out steadily to compose himself.

"Tristan?" A gentle, sleepy voice murmured nearby, jolting him to the here and now.

He glanced down. Laly rested at his side, her features relaxed in slumber with a subtle smile.

"You’re already up? Why? We have nothing today. Come sleep more." She pulled lightly at his arm, drawing it to her bosom.

Tristan echoed her smile, his heart aching silently within, and parted his lips. His voice emerged hoarse.

"I have something to tell you, Laly."

—End of Chapter 472—