Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player



Finding what he needed in the clutter that was his memory was challenging but not impossible.

ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm The muted brilliance became a subtle beacon to draw his attention once he sifted through the disorder.

Of course, he couldn't let the Flame learn of his actions. He didn't know how it'd end up affecting the Flame, and he didn't know what the petulant thing would do in retaliation.

Though it had claimed to need him, Kieran was a tough person to convince. He was often the only person who could persuade himself unless irrefutable facts resolved the concern.

Inside his Realm of Self, Kieran remained still without giving away a hint of his efforts. The Flame wasn't a fool, but it had done something foolish. The ruin that destroyed a considerable amount of this realm had turned the area near the Equality Gate lightless and dull. 

It became a remarkable hiding spot and served as an obstruction that Kieran exploited by craftily shifting the orbs resembling stars closer to the Gate.

Still, the Flame lingered and slowly revolved around Kieran's statuesque presence. Its devilish voice, tinged with maddened glee, had never stopped firing off remarks or questions.

"Are you relaxing? Enjoying the rest? That's understandable."

The Flame knew what its power did because it had designed it to exact a cost. Using the intoxicating power took a heavy toll on the mind and then the body. It was strange, considering the body had to bear the violent torrent.

However, it was also understandable. Having your mind assailed by the dark emotions of an ancient horror who hated the Gods was not something a human was meant to withstand. Under such immense pressure, the burden was enough to make anyone crumble.

Kieran did not crumble, though. 

His defiance — a vestige of his stolen Will — had resisted against the Flame's encroachment. Granted, the Anchor's weight held together several significant portions of Kieran that he couldn't name. 

'Maybe the Anchor is why I'm too tough to break.'

The Flame had been too thrilled by the thought of him shattering the Anchor's chain for it not to be genuine. It was a delight that the Flame couldn't fake. The intensity of that delight was equal to the joy it felt when people killed and fed it their bloodlust.

Eventually, Kieran opened his eyes and stared at the Flame's featureless grin drifting before him.

"Rested? Ready to feed me? Yes? I hunger. I always hunger."

Kieran shook his head and then looked around.

'Haven't you eaten enough? Look at the state of this place? And you have caused it all.'

The Flame hummed and then took pride in its actions.

"You are plenty… but you are not enough. I haven't had enough. I desire more of you, but I can't have it. They stop me. You stop me. Why do you all hate me?"

Kieran tilted his head and stared at the manifestation. It had asked a question that perhaps a lonely and abandoned child would. Was the Flame sad, and all this destruction was its rampage?

No, Kieran didn't want to view the Flame as something deserving of remorse and pity. It preyed upon too many things to be fit for that honor. Still, he was curious and couldn't help but ask.

'Who are they?'

"Those that have broken me — that have separated me from my precious! They deserve to burn, and so I will burn them. This world will burn in retribution for my fate. The Reckoning needs many warriors, and as my Condemned, you should act as its herald. Many have failed me, but you… I can feel it. You are bound to Wrath, and so you will not abandon me. No, you will be present during my new marriage."

There it was. A reason for the Flame not to deserve sympathy.

Kieran's interest in the matter perished once he heard the Flame begin speaking about destroying the world. He wasn't too interested in seeing that happen. A ruined world didn't seem too advantageous and beneficial on his part.

But there was something strange about what the Flame had said. Warriors?

The Flame was no God. It was an unholy thing undeserving of faith. That begged the question of how it came to acquire faith. How had the Order of War and Flame been started?

And so, to keep the Flame's attention occupied as he continued working with the muted brilliance that only the mystically inclined could sense, he questioned further.

'You said many have failed? How did they fail you so I may not repeat these mistakes.'

The Flame didn't answer immediately. It lingered and scrutinized Kieran while looking for kindred emotions. It had to know if Kieran was being disingenuous and lying to obtain answers.

Unfortunately, the Flame had erred. It had burned the part of Kieran that could potentially give away that knowledge. It was next to impossible to tell what Kieran was thinking now.

Mainly because many of his thoughts hid behind the Equality Gate in his mind. Though it had fallen dormant, it still offered a zone of nebulous mystic mist that the Flame dared not trespass into. 

Unable to distinguish truth from lie, the Flame spoke gingerly.

"Why they failed to consummate my marriage, of course. My reunion with my beloved has yet to have happened. I gave them power, and they failed me in the end."

Kieran mulled over those words before nodding.

'Are you sure it wasn't you who failed? It was you who chose wrongly in the end.'

The Flame suddenly stopped moving and gave an affronted scoff.

"Of course, I have failed, you fool. Otherwise, I would not be a Flame. I would be the Great Destroyer again! But it's okay. The Dying Blood seethes and wishes to return to its rightful master. The unseen tide is already growing turbulent. I have ensured so."

Kieran cocked his head in slight interest. 

This unseen tide sounded like something built up over many years, likely something set in motion to correct the Flame's many failures.

That made Kieran wonder, though. Was the Flame's failure linked to the failures of the Myths? That seemed simultaneously likely and unlikely because the portal had determined what Chronicle to subject him to once it evaluated him.

Every Cycle brought forth a new Chronicle based on the Anchor's evaluation.

Was there ever another Myth that could compare?

Yes, there was. Likely the first of their kind — those that had walked Xenith unchecked and unrestrained. They could bring the most terrifying might to bear.

Then, more questions rose in Kieran's mind. How ancient of a time was this?

'You have ensured it? With the Order of War and Flame, right? You are the one who created it. How?'

Pride and recognition swelled in the Flame as it flared its imaginary chest.

'It is a tragedy, you see. Ruin that brought forth opportunity. In the wake of the Failed Reckoning, dying warriors thought to be beyond saving, condemned to death called for help, and the benevolent me answered. Little did they know, Death had once been my servant. I became their lord and savior. I saved them. And then… they spread me as thanks.'

The Flame gave an eerie grin.

"I never knew the thing I lacked was faith. My divorce grew less absolute with their faith, and I could communicate… and feel. And so I spread, and I am firmer than ever. I am the Reckoning That Crushes and the Flame That Burns." 

The Flame's grand proclamation shook Kieran to his core. That wasn't empty talk… the Flame was plotting something utterly preposterous!

At that moment, Kieran smirked. 

The muted brilliance had come together, and he had something extraordinary to study.

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