Death to Power
Copyright© 2025 by TheSmartOne
Chapter 24: Eyes On Me
Kaden walked calmly toward the edge of the forest.
Soon, he’d be out.
No more trees. No more beasts. No more blood-soaked roots or broken branches beneath his feet. Just—
[So ... Be strong!]
[Host, were you actually serious, or just trying to act cool?]
His lips twitched.
Ever since he left that snake girl behind, Death wouldn’t shut up about what he said to her.
“What do you want from me?” Kaden muttered, annoyed. “I don’t even remember the last time I spoke to someone outside my family.”
“And you know what my last life was like. You expect me to be a goddamn eloquent speaker now?”
[Weakness is a sin... ]
He ignored Death. Again.
He just wanted to get the hell out of this forest.
...
Hours passed.
He encountered more beasts along the way, but they were weak—bottom-tier Awakened at best. Mindless, predictable. Same movements, same approach.
Instinct-driven.
But instinct didn’t mean nothing when you faced someone stronger. Someone smarter.
And in this forest?
Kaden was both.
Eventually, he saw it.
The Great Wall of Waverith’s Stronghold—stone carved from dark iron, towering, ancient. A symbol of power. Of protection.
‘Now that I think about it ... we’re not the only big family here.’
Waverith had three pillars of power: the Warborn, the Elamin, and the Cerveau. Each had their domain. Each ruled in their own way.
Together, they controlled everything inside the Stronghold.
‘Not that it concerns me.’
Kaden didn’t give a damn about politics.
He never did.
The Warborns, in general, didn’t either. They didn’t care about power plays or backdoor deals. They didn’t whisper in shadows or stab allies in the back.
They fought wars. That’s what they did.
Simple and efficient.
And if someone provoked them?
They bled, badly.
But all that scheming nonsense? Not their style.
Was that a good thing?
Well ... depends who you ask.
...
Kaden stood at the gates.
And again, he came face to face with someone unexpected.
“ ... Sister?”
Daela Warborn stood in front of the Stronghold gate, arms crossed, expression cold and unreadable. She wore her black training suit like armor, her aura sharp and suffocating.
The kind of presence that screamed: approach me, and you will die.
No one did. Of course.
You’d have to be an idiot to casually approach a Warborn descendant like her.
But then the whispers started.
“ ... Hey, isn’t that the Child of Blood?”
“Yeah, born during that battle with that cowardly Beast King, right?”
“Can you feel that bloodlust? He looks like he wants to kill all of us.”
“Shut up, idiot. Don’t let him hear you—”
The rumors spread like wildfire. Everyone stared.
His birth was something the Warborns celebrated. So they were curious.
They watched, studied and measured.
Was he really worthy of the name?
Was he truly Warborn?
And Kaden ... was shaken.
He’d never had this kind of attention before. Not in his past life. Not even when his family was still alive.
He was always just ... there.
Average. Quiet. The kid with two decent friends and no desire for the spotlight.
But now?
All eyes were on him.
He never understood what the name Warborn actually meant until now.
‘It’s ... weird.’