Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power Chapter 474: Wisdom in Humbleness

Chapter 474 – Wisdom in Humbleness

Several days had elapsed since the Quest kicked off, leaving Kaden to wander aimlessly with barely any mental sharpness.

His choice on handling Rea lingered unresolved. Out of that hesitation bloomed his odd, unfamiliar ties with the Malan tribesfolk.

In an effort to sharpen his thoughts, Kaden started mingling with them, seeking deeper insight.

Calling it tough at the outset would be an understatement. It felt like folks from opposite ends of the world—with clashing values and customs—struggling to bridge the gap.

Bridging it proved impossible. Or at least, far from simple.

The tribesmen harbored no outright hostility toward Kaden. Yet they offered no warm embrace either.

From the chatty Pandora who stuck to him like glue, Kaden learned that long ago—in some remote era—two outsiders had stumbled into the Malan Tribe.

One was the figure Pandora had cited that day: the Wise Stranger.

Her fuzzy recounting painted him as a man whose sturdy frame and features clashed wildly with his profound insight.

Kaden had shot her a disdainful glance back then, questioning the value of such a vague portrayal.

Pandora hadn't taken it well.

Kaden's mocking smirk sent the girl into a full-day pout. He savored the brief silence from her endless chatter.

That peace didn't endure, naturally.

Pandora's lips appeared wired to keep moving. Soon enough, she resumed, describing the second Stranger who arrived with the Wise One.

That figure went by Vainglory.

A man bearing crimson eyes darker than fresh blood—marred by a shadowy veil, a profound darkness that loomed over them like an endless firmament.

Pandora's take on Vainglory dripped with disdain. Kaden couldn't fathom the reason.

Even so, those two outsiders had reshaped the tribesmen's destiny. Excitement gripped some at the hint of novelty in their routine existence.

But the majority—those who revered their ancestors' teachings as sacred writ—resisted any shift in traditions brought by these interlopers.

"That's why I'm stuck in limbo. No outright bullying, no hearty welcome." Kaden figured, drawing a nod from Pandora.

Grasping this, he pondered ways to navigate it. Deeper knowledge of them was key to a sound choice. The tribe's fate tied into his Tower completion, one way or another.

He craved the reasons why. Not solely to sway his path, but unveiling the complete picture before deciding struck him as the smarter route.

...Or at least, that's what he believed.

To chase that truth, Kaden Warborn took a bold plunge: shedding all facades to embrace the tribesmen's lifestyle fully.

His initial shift targeted his own appearance.

One dawn, he emerged from his cave in their garb and with their hairstyle.

The style looked comical. But the impact hit instantly.

In a flash, Kaden transformed from an alien in odd attire to a modest youth earnestly embracing their ways.

Scarce few could deny the urge to champion and impart their homeland's heritage. The Malan Tribe proved no different.

They showed him how to collect their peculiar edible bugs and pinpoint water sources.

They shared tips on picking a mate—what traits to seek, and what offerings he'd need to make himself worthy.

They delved further, debating responses to unfair slights from kin. That topic captivated Kaden especially.

When a kinsman slew another unjustly, vengeance followed strict lines.

Man for man. Woman for woman. Child for child.

Should the bereaved kin lack a matching avenger, they'd compensate with fitting blessed rocks—their currency—to earn absolution.

Yet if the grieving family opted for mercy, no tribute was due. All scores settled, and the tribe would honor them for a spirit untainted by grudge.

Such a framework stunned Kaden.

And its depths ran even further.

From governance and unions to bartering... all governed by codes, with rule-breakers facing harsh reprisals.

The Malan tribesfolk meted out stern penalties. One involved the church: bound to a stone, dunked in scalding water for days scaled to the crime's weight.

During those days, Kaden uncovered the Malan Tribe's second creed.

[Leave Unfinished Things Unfinished.]

That rule made him erupt. He cursed the Will directly. Nothing shifted.

That same stretch also granted Kaden a title. An Epithet.

The Boy of Wisdom, murmured by tribesfolk for his noble resolve to absorb their knowledge instead of barricading behind his convictions.

Quickly, tales of a youth brimming with curious sagacity rippled across the vast Malan Village.

Fathers eyed him as a promising match for their daughters. Maidens young and seasoned alike perked up for news on the Boy of Wisdom.

Above all, the village heads—the Shaman and Historian—fixed their gaze upon him.

From then on, shifts accelerated.

...

"Are you serious?" Kaden questioned in disbelief, grinning and gesturing to a passing tribesman while chatting with Pandora at his side.

"Yes." The girl replied, her tone strangely swelling with pride. "My father serves as the tribe's Historian. He wants an audience with you."

"Why keep your background secret from me?"

"Did I?" She tilted her head, pure bewilderment etching her features.

Kaden let out a tired sigh and held his tongue. No point fretting now. The Historian sought him out.

Compliance was his only play if he aimed to depart amicably.

’Still, what draws his interest?’

The puzzle nagged him. Sure, he'd stirred some buzz in the tribe, but hardly enough for the Historian's summons.

The Historian commanded immense reverence. Some ranked him higher than the Shaman—the bridge linking the Goddess's Spirit to her flock.

That spoke volumes on the Shaman's stature, underscoring the Historian's own prestige.

’Regardless, the timing works perfectly.’ He pressed on, clasping Pandora's hand. The girl beamed uncontrollably, thrilled by his grasp.

’I've grasped most tribal secrets. Yet zilch on the Tower's origins, its unfinished state, or their link.’

His brows furrowed.

’That intel's crucial. And urgent.’

The clock ticked down. Kaden had checked on Rea daily in the church over the past week. Each visit showed her changing swifter.

Now, scant traces of Rea lingered within her.

No deadline loomed from the Quest. But dawdling would be folly.

’What path will you take, Kaden?’ Reditha’s whisper echoed in his thoughts.

He caught it, staying mute.

Shortly after, he paused before a lavishly carved rock cave. His gaze sharpened on reflex—the rock formations encircling the entryway struck him as eerie. Enigmatic, even.

They formed a motif. One evoking a wheel in eternal spin yet frozen still, hinting at a concept beyond Kaden's grasp.

Still, it pulled at him to decipher it.

Pandora denied him the chance.

She yanked his hand, snapping him from reverie, and headed for the ajar portal ahead.

"Come," she urged, her voice unusually subdued and jittery. "Father awaits you."

—End of Chapter 474—