Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power

Two months passed.

These two months have been hectic for Kaden.

He passed them by striking down every single Cerveau family member foolish enough to be outside their family territory.

At the beginning, it was easy they didn't know they were being targeted, as the news of Selene's death hadn't reached them yet.

But once it did, everything changed.

The atmosphere inside Waverith turned tense, suffocating even, as the Cerveau grew enraged that someone dared to kill their members without hesitation, without fear, without care.

And with the subtle trace Kaden left, pointing directly to the Venil family, their already strained relationship finally cracked.

The Venil knew they were being used. They knew someone was playing a game far above them and had simply used their dissatisfaction as fuel but at that point, they didn't care anymore.

All at once, they rebelled, severing ties with the Cerveau, rejecting their authority, their dominance.

It was a risky move.

No…it was a deadly one.

Because not even a week later, the Venil were exterminated.

Without mercy.

The aftermath was a battlefield of corpses and ruins, and when people came to investigate, all they found was the result of what was labeled an "internal war." Brothers killing sisters, fathers slaughtering sons, chaos and madness tearing them apart from within.

Who believed that?

No one.

Everyone knew.

Everyone knew the Cerveau had manipulated them from the inside, twisted their minds like broken toys, used their own loyalty and pain to destroy themselves.

But even knowing that, no one did anything.

Because no one wanted to be next.

So the powerful lied openly to the common populace, feeding them stories, while the people nodded in fear, pretending to believe.

And since that day, it became harder for Kaden to kill stray Cerveau. They had all returned to their territory, some even using runic artifacts that made them difficult to target.

But Kaden didn't care.

Because he had already achieved his goal.

He wanted to make sure the Warborns were the last thing on the Cerveau's mind.

And at this moment…?

The brute Warborns weren't even a footnote.

Their focus was now entirely on one thing.

"Tell me. Who is the Envoy of Death?" Brain asked, voice cold, emotionless, yet sharp enough to cut through steel as he sat inside the meeting room of The Cerveau.

The meeting room was drenched in a clinical stillness. White and blue, serenity and control, everything designed to reflect the mind and its logic.

Above them hung a chandelier shaped like a human brain, flickering with soft blue flame, casting spectral light upon the room.

The floor was a pristine white carpet, flawless, unmarred. The table, massive and immaculate, stood like a surgical altar, and at its center, engraved with disturbing precision, was the Cerveau insignia—a lifelike blue brain pulsing faintly with runes.

At the head of the table sat Brain Cerveau, his presence dominating the space like a god who ruled through silence.

Before him sat six others. Three men. Three women.

The Synaptic Council.

The Six Lobes of Power.

Kaden had never seen this gathering, but if he were here, he would have recognized them immediately, for these six were not just elites, they were the mind and will of the Cerveau itself.

Brain asked again, and this time, a man in his thirties responded. He had the trademark blue hair and eyes, white-trimmed glasses perched neatly on his nose, his white suit woven with delicate threads of blue that shimmered like veins.

He wore pristine white gloves and carried himself like a noble scholar who had long transcended the battlefield.

He was Neron Cerveau, The Frontal Lobe also known as The Strategist.

"Shouldn't you ask our dear Vaela?" Neron said with a voice as cold as Brain's, his gaze drifting toward the woman across from him.

She was beautiful and enigmatic. Her blue hair fell perfectly, but her eyes were something else entirely—glowing faintly, as if reflecting a world that didn't belong to the present.

Vaela Cerveau, The Occipital Lobe also known as The Seer.

She said nothing. She didn't blink. She didn't move. She simply stared ahead as if this meeting didn't concern her.

And no one was surprised.

Everyone here knew her nature.

But Brain still turned to her.

"Vaela," he said, voice flat. "What do you see?"

For a moment, silence.

Then she turned her glowing eyes toward him and said, simply:

"Death."

The room froze.

Not in fear.

But in familiarity.

"Oh gods, not this again. Stop with the cryptic bullshit," a loud and emotional voice snapped.

Everyone turned to the source—Ziriel Cerveau, her dress a riot of colors, her hair flamboyant blue, her emotions naked and untamed.

She was The Limbic System, also known as the Emotion Controller.

She was chaos incarnate.

The opposite of Vaela in every way.

No one bothered reacting to her outburst. It was her nature.

But even Brain was growing tired.

"Be more precise," he ordered sharply.

Vaela didn't flinch.

"I can't see anything. Every time I try, all I see is death. A sea of it. Endless." She paused.

"I need a tether. Something real. A piece of him that can help me pinpoint him clearly without all these deaths as a cover."

"Would blood suffice?" Neron asked, fingers steepled, gloves reflecting the flame from above.

"Yes."

"Then let's give him what he wants," Neron said, smiling coldly. "He seems to be targeting us anyway."

"We'll bait him by offering him more prey. But this time, we'll make sure he bleeds."

Neron turned to his right, where a silent man sat.

Long blue hair tied in a ponytail, plain white shirt, emotionless eyes.

Lucan Cerveau, The Cerebellum also known as The Executioner.

"You will follow from the shadows. Don't kill him—just make him bleed. But to keep up the appearance…"

Neron's grin deepened.

"…pretend we intend to interrogate him. Let him think we'll capture him, and then—when he resists—we collect his blood for Vaela."

Lucan nodded.

No words.

No hesitation.

Just obedience.

On the left, another man sat quietly, watching all of them.

He was older, much older with blue hair threaded with white and eyes like deep oceans that had seen too much.

Calix Cerveau, The Temporal Lobe also known as The Archivist.

Selene's grandfather.

He remained quiet as he listened.

"But even that won't be enough," Neron continued.

"We need to call a gathering. Bring every Patriarch of every vassal family under our banner and control their minds."

"You all saw what happened with the Venil. Calix had to manually edit some of their memories to drive them to slaughter one another. It was a waste of effort."

"So let's control the leaders directly so that they can nip in the bud any growing rebellion from their family for us."

"We don't want any more surprises."

"I support this," Ziriel said, raising her hand.

One by one, all others followed.

Then they turned their gaze to the one who mattered.

After all if they all accepted but the brain didn't…it would not matter.

But fortunately for them…

"I accept," Brain said, and with those two words…

The Cerveau moved.

—End of chapter 127—