Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power - Chapter 345

Chapter 345: Chapter 345: Tears
Chapter 345 – Tears

“Is it like this?”

Inside a room poorly lit inside the Church of Sorrow, a rather old-looking man — around sixty or so — was staring down at his own reflection in the mirror.

His face was colored with wrinkles here and there, with deep purple eyes that glowed like two gemstones, and a bald head.

He wore a robe befitting a Priest, one painted in lifeless grey worthy of Sorrow, with a purple stripe running down his left chest showing his station as the Priest.

He was the Bright Priest, the only happy-looking person inside the Church of Sorrow.

The man was touching his face over and over again, stretching his mouth wide open to either side as if imitating a smile. On the shelf just before him was a portrait. A portrait of himself with a smile.

“Pandora’s stinky feet, how am I supposed to smile like this? My jaw hurts.” He cursed while massaging his cheeks. But instantly after, he smiled openly once more, his purple eyes closing while he did, his wrinkles creasing and deepening even more.

At that smile, the man immediately nodded, “Like this!” He celebrated, finally able to copy the smile.

But his joyous mood suddenly disappeared, as if all of that was but an illusion. He straightened his back and began to walk toward his office table lit by a small floating grey ball of light.

His steps made no sound as he strode forward, except for a faint splashing sound, like a foot on water…or a foot on blood.

He arrived at the office within seconds and sat on the main chair, leaning leisurely on it, not minding the corpse just beneath him, bleeding furiously.

The corpse had the skin of its face peeled away with obvious cruelty. Even its eyes were gouged out, leaving only empty sockets of void that seemed to cry in sorrow even in death.

Next, the man leaned forward over the table, placed both elbows on it, and took a pile of papers that were on the side. He began to study them one by one, his purple eyes reflecting eerie indifference until suddenly his hands froze at one paper.

Different from the others, which carried a yellow stamp, this paper bore a deep forlorn grey stamp. And on it, the man read the name written boldly at the top,

“Rea Thornspire.”

Now, he leaned his head back, his face splitting into a wide open smile, showing all of his teeth.

“Ah, you are indeed here! Oh, Rea! I missed you so much! So, so much!” His voice was heavy with feelings, but dark and poisonous ones.

He grabbed the paper tighter, causing it to fold and begin tearing at the edges.

“Shall we see what you have been doing?” He whispered in a dark, eager tone as he began to read the full report concerning Rea since she entered the Church.

The more he read, the deeper his smile grew, and the more his killing intent condensed into something solid and physical, able to interface with the real world…into the face of a weeping woman.

“The Disciple of Loss? Ah…is this fate? Or is it Pandora guiding me? Ah…Sorrow…” He moaned before taking out a pocket watch from his robe.

He opened it and saw a picture inserted inside. It was a picture of himself and a woman, the exact copy of the Disciple of Loss.

At the bottom of the picture was inscribed a line:

“To my lovely granddaughter.”

Seeing this, the man — the Bright Priest — grinned.

“Shall we, then?”

…

While all of this was happening in one of the numerous creepy rooms of the Church of Sorrow, in another room even more harrowing and unsettling than the last, a battle of madness was still unfolding.

Yet, somehow, one could feel the end of it drawing near.

Inside the dark place of the Disciple of Loss’s territory, you could see her split body with Rea still inside it, embracing everything the Disciple of Loss was.

In the same way, the Disciple of Loss was trying to swallow everything Rea was.

Their battle was not one where they exchanged words or even wounds forged from skills. No, their battle was purely mental and psychological.

It was one where the first to swallow the other would win. Something supposed to be easy for the Disciple of Loss with her higher rank, but she came to realize that it was anything but easy.

On the contrary, she was shaking in fear.

Deep inside their now shared mind, the Disciple of Loss — named Einar Triste Loss — faced Rea.

They stood inside an unmoving pale-grey ocean. Above, the grey sky was raining black tears…each touch of them making Einar shrink back in trepidation again and again.

In the outside world, the battle might have been ongoing for only a couple of days, but here, in this strange space, it felt like years went by.

Behind the standing and crying Rea was the colossal black face of a woman in woeful tears.

Each time Einar’s gaze drifted toward the woman’s face, whispers began to slither through her mind, forcing her to wail in sorrowful agony for minutes before succeeding in holding herself together.

Now her trembling gaze rested on Rea, whose ruby-red eyes were glowing with madness, tears flowing down her face in a cascade as she felt the full impact of the goddess’s influence on her.

It was hard.

By letting Einar into her mind, she had created a breach. One the goddess was fully using to corrupt her mind.

She was struggling, body quivering, and she didn’t know how much longer she could bear the goddess’s wails before completely falling into her grasp.

So she bit her lips until blood trickled down, trying to use physical pain to focus.

“Abandon, master,” she whispered to Einar.

Einar forced a smile, “How did you do it?” she asked, taking one step back from Rea, fear coiling inside her mind, “How did you manage to live with this inside your mind?”

Einar could not fathom what she was seeing. How Rea was able to bear this divinity inside her head without going mad?

And why was she even here, going against this?

It was a question Rea herself didn’t know. All she knew was that she could resist the goddess. As for how…

Rea shrugged carelessly, “I don’t know,” she answered, “But you must already know, master, that you are too far gone now.”

She took one step closer to her.

Einar stepped back.

There was nothing more fearful to a mortal than a god.

And Einar had one in front of her, one breaking down her mind at every passing second.

“You have been corrupted by Her already,” Rea continued, approaching closer, “It doesn’t matter if you win, because doing so would mean you will have to bear the whispers of the goddess inside your mind. And believe me, she will devour you completely.”

Rea gave her a cold, thin smile, “Are you ready for that, master?”

“My beautiful Rea…” Einar rasped as her back touched an invisible barrier, making her unable to flee, “Did you plan this?”

Rea continued walking until she stood inches from her. Her smile still rested on her crying face.

“Choose your fate, master. You either accept being swallowed by me, or you accept being swallowed by the goddess and become her puppet.”

She took another step, now only an inch away.

“And besides,” she whispered, madness coiling in each word, “didn’t you want to be one with me? I am giving you the opportunity, master. Take it. Give everything of you to me. I will bear it. I will bear your whole existence, master.”

“Will I live?” Einar asked, staring deep into Rea’s monstrous eyes, “Or will I die?”

At that moment, to the Disciple of Loss, Rea looked nothing like a mortal. She had been in too much direct contact with a divine, to the point her existence had been altered without her knowing.

She was a God-Touched.

Einar was slowly beginning to understand the weight and dread behind such words.

“You will leave everything of you to me,” Rea answered softly, “You will still live, but only if I live.”

Einar trembled.

“Your mind, your power, your status, your influence…everything would be in my hands, even if it is still yours.”

Einar smiled a crooked and obsessed smile, “I will be yours?”

“You will be mine.” Rea nodded.

“My beautiful Rea,” Einar whispered as she raised her trembling hands and placed them on each side of Rea’s cheeks, “Will you discard me?”

“As long as you are useful, I won’t, master.”

“Will you take care of me?”

“As long as you are useful.”

“Did you plan this to make me yours?”

“Will that calm your mind if I say yes?”

“Yes, my beautiful Rea.”

“Then yes.”

Einar’s eyes became more crazed, filled with abnormal obsession. Her mind was already breaking under the goddess’s influence, and she preferred to be swallowed by her beautiful Rea than by the goddess.

She preferred to be the puppet of her beautiful Rea, rather than a divine being who held no regard for her.

She smiled at last, crying, “I love you, my beautiful Rea. I truly do.”

Rea’s tears fell faster, “I accept your love. But I am already someone’s promise, Einar Triste Loss.”

Einar paused at her words, processing them.

Then slowly, more tears fell, “Will that someone give everything of themselves to you?”

“Because, my beautiful Rea…I give myself to you. Own me. Control me. I yield.” Her face was drenched in snots and tears as she held tightly to Rea, as if she were her entire anchor.

Instantly, a chime of The Will resonated through the Mind Realm, signaling the end of the quest.

At that moment, Rea answered Einar’s question.

“Will he give me everything of him? Probably not.” She smiled as everything around her began to disperse,

“…but he pointed me toward a direction when I was lost.”

She stared deep into Einar’s eyes before everything suddenly evaporated,

“And that’s enough for me.”

Everything turned dark.

Then,

{Congratulations, you have succeeded in your Master-ranked Quest, Rea Thornspire, God-Touched.}

{Brace yourself, you are ascending to Master!}

—End of Chapter 345—