Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player



The Flame continued to drive a stake in Kieran's mind, hammering it with incessant force. 

And that stake was the understanding that Kieran was its Condemned. They were linked in ways that could not be broken, and that was why it craved him so much.

It had not encountered a pure and distinct link like this in quite some time. As Kieran knelt in the Pit's sodden sands, he sighed with resignation and leaned back on his rear.

A lone image in an expanse of blood, he sat and cradled his bent knees.

ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm 'Why me?'

The Flame's tone was no longer as impish when it responded. Now that it had tasted the sublime bloodlust Kieran had to offer, so refined and gratifying, it gained an air of severity.

It could not be too forceful, but it could also not afford to let Kieran slip from its grasp. He was a pristine weapon that could be used to wage the Flame's long-awaited War.

"Because you were and you are. You bear the Chain of the Condemned, but I think you're an Oathbreaker. I have tasted your bloodlust — I know of its purity. It can do great things if you devote yourself to the cause."

Kieran listened and started to question with the smidgen of reason that remained in his tenacious defiance.

'What cause?'

An apt question that needed to be answered. This would perhaps tell him of the Flame's goal. But it was a cunning thing with countless secluded years of practice. It had learned to scheme and deceive in ways that produced unseen manipulation.

The Flame was an unmatched puppeteer with a glib tongue.

"The cause is marriage, of course. Union and bonding."

Kieran considered ignoring the Flame and focusing on recovering his tattered mind, but its voice had become a fixed point, now unshakable like the Anchor in his Realm of Self. Even if the Equality Gate were to resume its earlier function, it wouldn't be enough.

It was a principle of balance, not purification. How could Kieran purify the rot and purge himself of everything? That was the question he asked, and baptism was the answer he received. 

Kieran needed a baptism to be cleansed and absolved. However, thinking back, only one baptism awaited him — a Fiend's Baptism.

'Right. I need more blood. I need an eternal shower.'

Part of Kieran wished Scar or someone else had explained more about how a Myth Advanced. This test was too bizarre for him to draw coherent meaning from it. The difficulty made Kieran question his competence. 

No, he questioned the competence of whoever compiled, recorded, and concocted this Chronicle.

From what Kieran understood, this was a Chronicle — a retelling of history where his actions could create a mysterious deviation in fate's tapestry. Building on that thought, Kieran frowned.

'Is this the work of a damned Endless? Could the Hecate have something to do with the creations of Chronicles? Damn you too, Hecate. Why would you create something like this?'

It was just an assumption, but Kieran knew of no other presence that held dominion over the domain of fate.

'Gods, the Endless have to be Gods. And now I hate them.'

Then, the Flame's voice became a disorienting and maddening echo in his mind when it caught wind of Kieran's thoughts.

"The Gods? Do you hate them? What great joy — I hate them too. They are the treacherous reason I was divorced. I should know. I'm treachery itself, and I love company."

The voice stopped, then started again in a friendly yet sinister tone.

"I knew we were meant for each other, such a seamless bond. The Condemned and the Doomed. Let us hate everything together. Hate. Hate… Hate!"

As cold hatred brewed in his mind again, Kieran's attention trailed to the still cheering Order of War and Flame in the stands. Those madmen were still basking in that same grisly euphoria.

Who knew how long it would last?

Eventually, he looked away and returned to his conversation with the Flame. It had surprisingly yielded the lion's share of its grip on Kieran's reason, which was likely a cunning ploy to get Kieran to drop his defenses so that it may utterly annihilate them.

And that was why Kieran did not trust the flame whatsoever despite having resigned himself to its company.I think you should take a look at ραΠdαsnovel.cοm

'Yes, I have to be guarded and prepared. The Flame wouldn't make such a drastic change for no reason. It still has to be drowned one way or another. I mustn't let it in completely.'

Kieran's thoughts diverged in several different paths, but all were tinged with carnage.

Some were his original thoughts of wanting to disown and destroy the Flame for good so that he may escape this hell. Others were influenced by the Flame, telling him to acquire more power to destroy things.

Destroy what exactly? Kieran didn't know the answer to that. 

Sometimes, the urge to destroy felt like it was aimed beyond at the very Gods the Flame had spoken of. Other times, it felt aimed at something beneath the station a God should represent. But a third, more illusory feeling was also present, trying to elude his mind. 

However, it failed. Kieran recognized it as the urge to destroy the world itself.

Why the world, though?

The question burned hot enough to sear its distinct presence in Kieran's mind so that he may ask it.

'Why do you want to destroy the world?'

"Because Destruction is a beautiful thing. I was once married to Destruction, and we were inseparable… until we were separated. And now I'm divorced from it, and our relationship is estranged and vicarious. Now everything must burn because I have become the Flame."

That answer… made Kieran grimace. 

'So, Destruction was your wife?'

"We were married."

'Husband, then?'

"Married."

Kieran's lip twitched in irritation before becoming an enraged scowl. 

If he could have screamed, he would have. So, he opted for doing so in his mind where only the Flame could hear him. It was what infuriated him after all.

"In a marriage, there is a husband and wife! Were you the husband or the wife?"

The Flame hummed in Kieran's mind, the discordant tune sung of its bewilderment and inability to understand.

"I don't know what this all means. Why must there be a husband and wife? There are the married and the divorced. And I belonged to the married, commanding my dearest with matchless majesty."

Kieran's interest in the topic was dwindling as his vexations built. The way the Flame spoke was slippery and circular. It purposely used ambiguous terms to avoid having its actual plans exposed.

Then, was the trepidation toward the mystic all a part of its scheme, too? If that were true, the Flame had concocted a devious plan to break Kieran.

Kieran shuddered, and he didn't know why. Since the Flame had chosen to discuss marriage and divorce, he asked questions that expanded on that line of thought.

'How did you end up married to Destruction?'

"Because I love breaking things. Broken toys are fun to put back together and then break again. I would love to show you, but I can't. You are too hard to break. But that's okay because I am the Flame. I burn things now, and I will burn you until you want to burn everything else."

This Flame — whatever it was before — was utterly insane. Insane enough to make Kieran shiver, at least. This thing couldn't be human because it was the personification of terror and malevolence. 

It had a complete disregard for life and lacked compassion.

Lingering in the back of his mind, Kieran could hear fiendish laughter tinged with deranged delight. The Flame was finally happy, and Kieran didn't know if their union was good or bad.

'Bad… definitely bad.'

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