Even Death Grew Tired of Killing Me-Chapter 67 - 62 - Kyrene and the Custodian 2

[Third POV – General]

Mid afternoon sunlight filtered gently through the sprawling wisteria tree that dominated the inner garden of Madison’s manor. Its long violet blossoms hung in delicate curtains, swaying lightly whenever the wind passed through. The air smelled faintly of flowers and freshly brewed chocolate.

At a small round table set beneath the canopy, Madison sat with quiet composure.

In front of her rested a porcelain cup filled with thick hot chocolate, steam curling lazily upward. Beside it was a delicate plate of sweet cakes, layered with cream and glazed fruit, dusted lightly with sugar.

Madison lifted a fork and cut into one of the cakes with unhurried precision. She brought it to her lips and took a bite, eyes closing briefly as she savored the sweetness.

She loved sweet things.

It was one of the few simple pleasures she allowed herself in this body. Sugar, warmth, texture. Mortal senses. They were limited, but they were honest.

Her expression remained calm, almost serene.

Across from her, Theron sat stiffly.

He leaned back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded loosely, ruby eyes fixed on Madison with clear disapproval. A barelh half-finished slice of chocolate cake sat untouched on his plate.

"You enjoy that too much," he muttered flatly.

Madison swallowed and lifted her cup. "I do."

Theron’s nose wrinkled faintly. "It’s excessive."

She took a slow sip of hot chocolate and dabbed her lips with a napkin, unbothered. "You say that every time."

Silence settled again, gentle and unstrained.

Then Theron stilled.

His gaze shifted upward, past the canopy of wisteria, toward the distant direction of the palace. The change in his posture was subtle but immediate. His eyes narrowed slightly, attention sharpening.

"...Kyrene," he whispered.

Madison did not look up.

She took another slow sip from her cup.

Theron’s jaw tightened. "He’s slipping."

Madison set her cup down carefully on its saucer. "Fighting something like that with barely his power is frustrating."

Theron leaned forward slightly, tension creeping into his shoulders. "He’s connected with him."

"Beyond that," Madison replied calmly. "Kyrene can end that thing without drawing anything more than he has now."

Theron’s expression hardened. "He’s just a special mortal right now."

Madison glanced at him briefly, her gaze steady and faintly amused. "Yes. Special even among special Wayfarers. You should know him better than that."

Theron frowned.

The wind shifted the wisteria blossoms, scattering a few petals across the table.

"And no," Madison continued, lifting her fork again. "You’re not allowed to move there and give him a hand."

Theron straightened. "But..."

Madison cut him off smoothly. "If you insist, you may go of course. I won’t stop you."

She took another bite of cake, chewed, then added evenly, "But don’t throw tantrums like a toddler if he gets mad at you for undermining him. He does hold grudges for a millenia, sometimes more."

Theron exhaled slowly through his nose.

"Of course I won’t," he replied, irritation barely concealed. "He’s literally old enough to handle such things. It’s not supposed to even be a fight to begin with if he only..."

"Well he can’t and won’t," Madison interrupted, her tone still light but firm. "He’s more sensible than that."

Theron pressed his lips into a thin line.

For a long moment, he simply stared at the direction of the palace again. The connection tugged faintly at his awareness. He could feel the strain, the restraint, the suppressed flare of something much larger than what was being displayed.

He did not move.

Instead, with visible reluctance, he reached for the small fork in front of him and took a large bite of the chocolate cake.

His expression immediately soured.

Madison smiled faintly at that.

"You should try enjoying things once in a while," she murmured.

Theron swallowed stiffly. "This is not enjoyment."

"It is," she countered gently. "You just don’t want to admit it."

He did not answer.

Above them, sunlight shifted slightly as the afternoon progressed. The garden remained peaceful, almost absurdly so, compared to the violent clash unfolding beneath the palace stones.

Madison leaned back slightly in her chair, chin resting lightly against her folded hand. Her amethyst eyes glimmered softly.

"He’ll manage," she said at last, voice quiet but certain.

Theron’s ruby gaze flickered toward her. "You’re very confident."

Madison’s smile deepened just a little.

"Have I ever been wrong?" she replied simply.

And far away, beneath stone and sigil and dark ritual ground, Kyrene continued to fight without knowing that two beings far beyond the world were calmly drinking chocolate and eating cake while trusting him to hold the line.

~~~

[Third POV - Kyrene]

The chamber floor trembled as Kyrene and the Black Custodian resumed their clash.

The skeletal knight did not rush blindly. It advanced with measured steps, blade angled low, robes trailing behind like torn banners. Every movement felt calculated. Precise. The air around it thickened, dark ether weaving between bone joints, reinforcing each strike before it even began.

Kyrene wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Alright, I’ll say it," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his stance. "You’re not boring, you’re actually quite entertaining."

The Custodian lunged first.

Its sword came down in a vertical arc that split the stone floor where Kyrene had stood half a heartbeat earlier. Kyrene triggered Arcstep, his body blurring sideways in a short burst of warped movement, reappearing just beyond the strike zone.

Stone exploded where he had been.

He didn’t counter immediately.

Instead, he circled.

The Custodian pivoted smoothly to track him. No wasted motion. No emotional reaction. It adapted with each exchange, adjusting its angle, tempo, and pressure like a veteran duelist studying a rival.

Kyrene exhaled slowly.

"As usual, very adaptive," he murmured.

The Custodian’s next attack came in a feint. A shallow thrust aimed for Kyrene’s ribs, followed instantly by a horizontal sweep meant to catch his dodge. Kyrene read the rhythm a fraction too late.

The blade grazed his side once again.

Cloth tore. Blood sprayed in a thin arc.

Kyrene slid backward, boots scraping against stone. He glanced down at the wound. It was not deep, but it burned differently than ordinary damage. There was residue there. Borrowed authority. Morveth’s signature woven into the strike.

So that’s how you’re cheating, he thought.

The Custodian pressed forward without pause.

Kyrene switched tactics.

Instead of retreating, he stepped inside the Custodian’s guard. He activated Aether Edge, condensed arcane force wrapping around his forearm and hand rather than a weapon this time. When the Custodian’s sword came down again, Kyrene caught the flat of the blade with his reinforced palm.

The impact cracked the floor beneath his feet.

For a moment, it looked like the Custodian had overpowered him.

Then Kyrene twisted sharply and triggered Counter Surge.

He redirected the incoming force, turning defense into retaliation. The redirected momentum snapped upward through his body and into his elbow. He drove that elbow into the Custodian’s jaw.

Bone shattered.

The Custodian staggered back one step.

Only one.

Its skull reformed almost immediately, cracks knitting together under dark energy.

Kyrene clicked his tongue softly. "You’re annoying."

The Custodian raised its blade again, and this time the chamber dimmed slightly. A faint ripple passed through the air as it temporarily borrowed a fragment of Morveth’s power. The temperature dropped. The floor beneath Kyrene’s boots began to frost.

Kyrene felt it clearly.

The suppression field tightened.

His Standing remained Low Initiate in the eyes of the world, but something beneath that flickered.

He did not let it rise.

Instead, he drew just a thread of something deeper, subtle enough to slip through the cracks without flaring outward.

His pupils narrowed.

A faint shimmer ran along his spine, barely visible.

Not awakening.

Just adjusting.

The Custodian struck again, faster now.

Kyrene activated Arcstep in rapid succession, weaving through overlapping strikes, not retreating but repositioning. He allowed the Custodian to believe it had cornered him against a collapsed pillar.

The skeletal knight committed fully.

Kyrene dropped low, sliding under the blade’s arc. At the same time, he triggered Silent Draw.

A short arcane blade manifested in his hand without flare or sound.

He thrust upward into the Custodian’s rib gap, right where the borrowed power was cycling.

The blade did not explode outward. It pierced and disrupted.

For a fraction of a second, the link between the Custodian and Morveth flickered.

Kyrene ripped the blade free and pivoted, slashing behind the knee joint.

The Custodian dropped to one knee.

It retaliated instantly, driving its fist into Kyrene’s chest.

The blow launched him across the chamber.

Kyrene hit the far wall hard enough to fracture stone.

For a brief moment, he did not move.

The Custodian stood, blade reforming fully, energy stabilizing again.

Kyrene inhaled slowly.

His ribs shifted beneath his skin. Fractures aligned. Blood flow reversed. Flesh knitted.

Not regeneration born of divine awakening.

Just controlled recovery.

He pushed himself upright.

"Okay," he muttered, rolling his shoulder once. "Let’s do this again."

The Custodian advanced again, relentless.

Kyrene’s gaze sharpened.

He needed to end this without escalating.

So he stopped matching power with power.

Instead, he changed the pattern entirely.

When the Custodian swung again, Kyrene did not dodge backward or sideways.

He stepped forward into the strike.

The blade pierced through his shoulder.

The Custodian froze for half a breath, calculating.

That hesitation was enough.

Kyrene triggered Counter Surge again, but this time he funneled not just the external force, but his own forward momentum and pain into it. The redirected energy detonated from within the Custodian’s arm.

Bone shattered up to the elbow.

Before the Custodian could adapt, Kyrene twisted his body around the embedded blade, ignoring the tearing sensation, and activated Aether Edge across both hands.

He slammed both palms into the Custodian’s chest plate.

Cracks spidered outward.

The borrowed link destabilized.

Kyrene pulled free and immediately triggered Arcstep, reappearing above the Custodian mid-collapse.

He drove his heel down onto its skull.

The floor cratered.

The Custodian’s body convulsed as its connection to Morveth flickered violently.

Kyrene did not let up.

He manifested another arcane blade through Silent Draw, then drove it straight through the central spine node.

"Disconnect," he murmured quietly.

The link snapped.

The Custodian’s form froze.

Then collapsed into lifeless bone and shredded robes.

Silence returned to the chamber.

Kyrene remained standing for a moment, chest rising slowly.

The faint shimmer along his spine faded.

His wounds closed fully now, bruises dissolving beneath skin as if they had never been.

He exhaled.

That was closer than it should have been.

He glanced at his hands.

If something like that can push me this far, he thought, then we are in trouble.

Theo is still too early.

He looked toward the ceiling where Theo was trapped somewhere beyond stone and shifting corridors.

I need him to move faster.

Not recklessly.

But faster.

More skills. More stats. More allies awakened.

If he doesn’t...

Kyrene’s expression darkened slightly.

If he doesn’t, then when something truly ancient steps onto the board, neither of us will be enough.

He flexed his fingers once, steadying himself.

Then he turned toward where Morveth had descended earlier.

The real fight had not begun yet.

And this time, he would not be smiling.