Death to Power
Copyright© 2025 by TheSmartOne
Chapter 62: Crimson Mayhem
Kaden had done just what he intended to do.
He went wild. Literally.
He had no fear of death—not when he still had more than enough Death Coins to burn. So with Reditha in his hand and a grin behind the mask, Kaden ran through the forest blindly. No destination. No plan. Just one direction. Completely random.
With the black mask covering his face and the way he moved—fast, erratic, brutal—he didn’t even look human anymore.
He looked like a reaper.
A reaper that had escaped Hell and was now running loose.
His first opponent was a green tortoise—awakened rank, fat, and far too slow. The thing had barely sensed him before trying to retreat into its thick carapace.
But Kaden was faster.
With a single step, he appeared right in front of it and grabbed its slippery head just before it could hide.
He smirked.
“Not today, buddy.”
His hand flashed.
The head fell.
Without missing a beat, Kaden plunged his hand into the beast’s body and ripped out its origin core, still warm, before tossing the corpse aside like trash.
He stored the core and kept running.
This time east. He chose it without any reason. He just followed his intuition.
As he dashed forward, he encountered weak beasts—nothing worth the name. He killed them all, one by one, without slowing down. And with every kill, their bloods stirred—trailing behind him, following him like a loyal pet.
By the fifth kill, the puddle of blood was so thick, so large, so close to him—it looked like he was wearing a cape made of blood.
“Reditha,” Kaden called, “don’t let it stretch longer. Any added blood from the fallen should be used to make the cape denser. Stronger.”
Reditha pulsed with a faint hesitation, almost like she wasn’t sure she could do it.
Kaden just smiled. “Try it. I am not expected you to succeed all this in one go.”
That one line settled her.
The blade flashed bright red, a response filled with resolution.
Kaden chuckled. Sometimes ... his sword was just a little too cute.
And so, the duo—warrior and weapon—ran through the middle zone like it was their personal hunting ground.
Anything in their path?
Dead.
No mercy. No pause. No hesitation. Just kill after kill after kill—until Kaden stopped counting altogether.
But not all enemies fell in one strike.
No. Not all of them.
At one point, Kaden ran into something else—something stronger.
A Terraclaw Devourer.
It was a monster draped in cracked earthen armor, obsidian spikes running along its spine, and six jagged limbs—perfect for digging and ripping things to pieces.
And it attacked from below.
Kaden didn’t see it coming.
One moment, he was running. The next, his clothes were torn and blood spilled from fresh cuts along his ribs.
So ... Kaden bled.
And that was a mistake.
Because by now, after hours of rampaging, both Kaden and Reditha had been using their blood manipulation skills nonstop. They had learned a few things. Not everything. But enough. Enough to start truly controlling the corrosive blood.
So the moment blood touched the air—
He grabbed it. Controlled it.
Guided it straight to Reditha’s tip.
He stood silently now, perception flaring, every sense sharp.
“You’re not gonna get out?” he asked, softly, eyes locked on the trembling ground.
One second. Two. Three.
No response.
Not like he expected one.
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