Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power Chapter 480: A Grandfather and a Grandson, and Life’s Greatest Lesson [3]

It was peculiar.

Kaden had courted death numerous times, more than any soul could possibly claim.

Not even gods. Not even Wonders. Not even Primordials.

None of them could boast, knowing Kaden’s unique expertise, to have brushed shoulders with mortality as frequently as he had and still remain standing.

Therefore, there was no room for doubt. He possessed the uncanny ability to identify someone lingering at the precipice of the death god's domain.

Yet, he had to concede... he appeared more like a specter than his own grandfather, a man who could no longer manage his basic bodily functions without assistance.

'How can this be?' Kaden mused, his gaze sweeping across the humble wooden dwelling. A faint cloud of dust billowed up around him, akin to an intangible shroud, causing him to wheeze with his weakened lungs.

He muttered a curse under his breath but persisted with his task.

Hours had elapsed, and a full night—if such a concept even applied in this bizarre locale—had passed since their last conversation. His grandfather was outside, positioned by his pale, yellow pond, engrossed with carving implements, parchments, and ink.

Raven had extended an invitation for him to join, but Kaden felt compelled to tidy the house first.

And it wasn't merely about cleaning. He sought to move his body, to engage his mind, and to attempt to grasp the profound concept of choice that Raven had imparted.

'A choice that strengthens me, not one that reduces me to nothingness.' He silently repeated the words, each recitation unveiling a deeper layer of comprehension.

Kaden tightened his lips and resumed his labor. He scrubbed the floor, clearing away dust, spittle, and dried blood. He rearranged the sparse furnishings to facilitate easier movement for his ailing grandfather. The scant vestiges of blood control he could muster were employed to fashion a more accommodating resting place.

He had observed that even sitting, let alone reclining, presented a considerable challenge for his grandfather.

Upon completion, his entire being was slick with perspiration.

All from a simple housecleaning chore.

"I doubt," he rasped, using the back of his hand to wipe his brow, "that I have ever experienced such profound weakness."

Yet, he had been weaker. Far weaker, in fact. However, losing something precious after having possessed it invariably alters one's perspective in subtle, almost imperceptible ways.

For Kaden, the recollections of his utter helplessness had become hazy; his memories of power and triumphant ascensions occupied such a vast expanse that his present frailty felt more acute than it would have had he fully retained the memory of his former, almost comical, vulnerability.

But that was the crux of the matter.

Kaden no longer possessed any memory of his life on Earth.

Thus, he drew a deep, albeit labored, breath, his lungs struggling to function optimally, and made his way outside with a limp.

He felt a degree of trepidation, Kaden confessed to himself. Even a touch of fear. He couldn't quite pinpoint the reason—though, in truth, he knew—but an instinct warned him against getting too close to his grandfather.

'Do not grow attached to a dying man, Kaden.' He admonished himself, his stubborn nature surfacing. 'You carry enough burdens, enough trials, enough anxieties to make any mortal yearn for oblivion.'

He recited this mantra like a malfunctioning phonograph, endeavoring to etch it into the very fabric of his consciousness.

Yet, the instant his footfall crunched upon the meager weeds underfoot, and his gaze met his grandfather's smile as he approached...

'Blood and ashes...'

...Kaden found himself returning the smile, a flicker of newfound brightness in his eyes compared to the day before.

"Come, my boy, come! Come!" Raven beckoned, his eyes gleaming with such intensity that Kaden almost believed the light within could incinerate the shroud of death that enveloped him.

And that was the moment of revelation. He faltered, his steps halting involuntarily, his attention fixed upon his grandfather. More specifically, his eyes.

'So that was the secret. The eyes.' He realized, his gaze drifting downward to observe how Raven's grip on the carving knife was precarious, threatening to slip. 'His entire body is either deceased or on the verge of it. But his eyes... his eyes remain vibrant with life.'

That was the peculiar sensation he had perceived from the outset.

The eyes serve as the portal to one's soul; Kaden had heard this adage countless times and had always concurred. Anyone who peered into another's eyes could discern something profound within. A spark of life, a deep-seated desire, an unquenchable passion. Something that distinguished them as a living, breathing entity rather than a mere hollow shell.

Perhaps this was the reason people closed the eyes of the deceased. Out of solemn respect, undoubtedly. But also because it was an unsettling sight, to gaze upon something utterly devoid of everything that signified life. Something that offered no reflection, no connection.

Raven was the antithesis of such emptiness. For a man nearing his final days...

"I am here, grandfather."

...his eyes possessed a vitality that surpassed that of many youths.

"Oh, indeed, you are here, my boy." Raven's smile was warm and genuine. He gently took Kaden's hand, his wrinkled fingers closing around it, and then gestured towards the unfinished sculpture before him. "What are your thoughts on it, tell me?"

He chuckled, a hint of bashfulness in his tone. "It remains crude and incomplete due to my current condition, but—!"

"It is already magnificent." Kaden shook his head, his grip on Raven's hand tightening reassuringly.

The sculpture, carved from wood, was slowly assuming the form of a creature that seemed to straddle the line between human and an enigmatic beast; Kaden couldn't definitively categorize it. However, the intrinsic beauty and undeniable mastery evident in the work were beyond question.

A wider smile spread across Raven's face, his eyes alight with happiness. "So you still recognize its beauty."

"Yes, grandfather."

"Even amidst its roughness and incompleteness."

"Yes," Kaden affirmed, nodding. "And it's not as if it will remain unfinished. You'll complete it, won't you?"

Raven’s smile took on a peculiar quality. "What if I am unable to, my boy?"

Kaden faltered for a moment, his gaze meeting Raven’s. He pressed his lips together before turning back to the sculpture.

"Then perhaps I should begin learning to carve myself," he suggested, attempting a smile that barely materialized. "So that I may finish it should anything happen to you."

"And why would you do that?"

The response came swiftly, startling even Kaden himself. "Because you are family. Because I love you." He blurted out, his eyes widening in surprise. However, gritting his teeth, he pressed on. "And I do not wish for something you started to be left incomplete."

Raven closed his eyes, a serene expression settling upon him. His smile widened so profoundly that his wrinkled visage resembled a disheveled old mop. Yet, even in that state, a certain beauty emanated from the sight, a uniqueness that struck Kaden deep within his core.

"Cherish that feeling, my boy," he whispered. "Your affection for me compelled you to desire dedicating your time, your efforts, and your energy to mastering a skill simply to complete what I began."

Kaden tightened his grip, only then realizing the profound weakness in Raven’s hand, which felt even more fragile than his own. It was like grasping water, and Kaden struggled to ascertain the appropriate level of pressure.

A knot formed in his stomach.

"This is what you must hold onto," Raven continued, his voice steady. "To love someone means to strive to be a part of their life. Not to be an obstacle, my boy."

"But do not forget. If you find yourself needing to shatter yourself into pieces to be a part of someone's existence..."

A sad smile touched his lips.

"...perhaps—just perhaps—you are not meant to be with them."

He slightly opened his eyes, his eyelids growing heavy, and gazed at Kaden.

"Love each other or perish," he breathed out. "But only if you can love them without extinguishing the light in your eyes."

A grin flickered across his face as he observed Kaden nod with firm resolve.

"...Yes, grandfather."

A soft chuckle escaped Raven.

"You are truly nothing like Dain and Daela," he`]]`}f once again, his laughter growing. "Perhaps there is indeed hope."

"Hope?"

His smile shifted, tinged with a deeper sadness. "To know you before it becomes too late."

Kaden's expression stiffened. He then shook his head, his lips twisting into a tense upward curve.

"Then perhaps I should share some of my adventures with you while you rest. To help you understand me better."

"Oh! I adore tales, just as I cherish poetry and sculpture. Do tell, what sort will they be?"

Kaden's eyes warmed at the evident enthusiasm.

"How about the one where I rescued your first grandson from the grasp of a wicked empress?" he inquired, injecting a theatrical flourish into his tone.

"What, Dain?"

"Dain himself."

"That young scoundrel is as useless as his father."

Kaden erupted into uncontrollable laughter. "Yes! Fuck – I mean no! My father is not a scoundrel!"

It was Raven's turn to laugh heartily. And so, Kaden began to recount his tales.

—End of Chapter 480—