Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player



Cardinal Weiss' vicious strike had sent deep Kieran into the distance. 

The only indication that he had stopped slamming against the ground or moving altogether was the vanishing of the violent tremors.

Far into the distance, Kieran stared skyward while sprawled out on his back in an attempt to gaze at its bright blue radiance, but it was futile. The dense miasma unfurled across the Land of Ruin like a noxious carpet woven from virulent energies.

It was deathly and deadly but not invasive enough to hamper a Fiend's constitution. And what did seep through was burned to nothing by the Flame.

After a few moments of vain stargazing, Kieran sat up and combed his wild hair out of his face. The scowl on his face was the final vestige of the pain Cardinal Weiss' strike had inflicted.

Aside from that scowl, many thoughts were written upon his pensive face.

'They said I had the body of a Master…'

Kieran rubbed his chest in remembrance of the strikes he had taken there. 

The Flame and Cardinal Weiss had praised his new body for being able to take the strikes of a Master without faltering, but it still hurt like hell. Which led Kieran to question the meaning of a Master's body.

A Fiend was not meant to be a Master, but a Fiend could be a Master. The Flame had simply perverted Ascension for its own cause.

Then, were the bodies of Masters all created equal? 

A brief consideration gave Kieran the answer he needed. No, they weren't. Though the process of forging a Master's Body eluded him, Kieran was reasonably sure there was a subtle relationship present, like the link between Class, Type, and Tier.

But that, too, was a link he'd have to mull over to understand better. He hadn't experienced enough to grasp the connection with certainty.

'No, how it's made is of no importance. This isn't an Awakening.'

What Kieran needed to understand was the import this body held. Which he did. The Fiend's body embodied the blood that flowed through it, enhancing many properties — speed, power, resilience, and healing were a few to name.

Lifting two fingers, Kieran watched as globules of blood revolved around one another until they reached a speed that allowed them to blend. The rate at which he could conjure his blood had increased tremendously, but the proficiency he wielded it hadn't changed.

Kieran understood why, too. 

It was glaringly obvious — he was not an Adept yet. It wasn't something he initially understood, but after experiencing Cardinal Weiss wielding his blood, Kieran realized how inept his approach was.

What if Cardinal Weiss had been telling the truth and he only dabbled? If that was so… it made Kieran's attainments look like paltry party tricks. Like he was…

'Like I'm a Novice.'

The thought made Kieran think deeper about the Way of Ascension and how all its facets interacted, which then led Kieran to Trial's secondary purpose. The first was to understand the burden of a Myth, but the second was to allow that Myth's Advancement.

This meant the Trial served as a guide for the Myths to Advance. But that only rang true if they proved capable of bearing the burden.

With that thought in mind, Kieran began to piece together his experiences thus far and extract their meaning.

His competency had returned, which promoted coherent thoughts.

The Pit of Culling reintroduced the principles of a True Berserker, understanding that barbarous battling and savage slaying were at the core of the Class — at the heart of its history.

The Flame, though a separate issue, represented something, too. It echoed the sinister thoughts and vile emotions a True Berserker had to endure while tapping into a deep well of power. That burden would only grow stronger after becoming a Blood Fiend.

The waifs and unfortunate children symbolized what True Berserkers sacrificed to obtain power. 

These hints of understanding made it clear that the Trial was a symbolic journey of a Fiend's Past.

Deep in thought, Kieran sat and reviewed everything with meticulous combing. There wasn't a stone left unturned or a kernel of thought left undressed.

Soon, he came to an assumption of why the vast disparity in their blood usage existed.

From what he felt, Cardinal Weiss was trustworthy but also felt lying was beneath him. Even when defiled by the Flame, the dignified man had not lied to Kieran.

If he said he dabbled, then it was likely a power the Cardinal seldom employed. Was it natural talent? Probably not.

Kieran felt there was a much more profound reasoning for his skill.

His familiarity with combat? That played a role, but it didn't explain his fine control of that blood. Time to theorize and understand the best way to wield the blood? Another potential answer, but then that didn't overcome the defiance of the blood Berserkers and Fiends wielded.

That left one answer.

'The skills in a Master's possession experience a comprehensive transformation, likely triggered by their Aspects of Self. They're on a whole nother compared to their lessers.'

As Kieran thought back, whereas he moved with the epitome of the speed and power he could muster, Cardinal Weiss moved with unhurried grace yet effortlessly outdid him.

That gave the impression that an Archmaster was an extraordinary Master, and Kieran understood that frightful truth with his body. He was a fool to believe he could battle on par with someone like the Cardinal after receiving a step up in power.

'Arrogance… that was all my arrogance.'

Kieran sighed after belatedly realizing why Cardinal Weiss attacked the way he did. It was to stop Kieran from growing too confident in his abilities by showing him that someone better… or stronger always remained.

After the sigh, Kieran rose, shook off the trauma he had recovered from, then darted back from whence he came.

The movement didn't stop his thoughts, though. He returned to thinking about what else Cardinal Weiss' current actions could represent if everything that occurred bore a symbolic meaning.

It was the Cardinal who had suggested blood-enhanced fighting, so there was undoubtedly something he meant to teach. Every Trial had a mentor… and with how closely Kieran interacted with Cardinal Weiss, he was undoubtedly this Trial's mentor.

At the beginning of the Trial, Kieran's memory was fractured but also sealed. Most of it remained warded off, but inside the reassembled vital parts was scattered knowledge of his skills.

Luckily, that had all been organized before his transformation. It was all a matter of sifting. 

Filtering through them one by one, Kieran soon realized the movements Cardinal Weiss made were eerily similar to some of his skills. The effect was almost identical, but the executions couldn't be more different.

Then, Kieran thought of a fragment of information in his mind — the Advancing's first condition. It was to enhance Blood Mania, meaning it had to meet the standard of an Adept by being refined.

Given pause by the thought, Kieran stopped far enough that he could see Cardinal Weiss but didn't approach closer.

'Is the Cardinal meant to help me refine Blood Mania?'

Kieran glanced down at the blade in his hand before making a decision. Inverting the sword, he turned it upside down and stabbed it into the ground.

If he were to learn from Cardinal Weiss, it would need to be precisely how the man taught it. He'd need to understand the Cardinal's War with his body. 

A miniature maelstrom of blood swirled around Kieran. Most of it went to waste, but what didn't had molded into a bloody gauntlet. It resembled what Cardinal Weiss wore but lacked its refinement. Kieran's gauntlet didn't have the pristine luster of sharpened metal, and it seemed somewhat malleable and frail, but it sufficed.

"You have returned, Valdu. Oh, and the look in your eyes has changed. I like that look. It's dangerous… and filled with predation. You want something, don't you? Perhaps… to learn? Is it? Come then, let me teach you the ways of a Fiend."

Then, a whirlwind of crimson blurs began marring the Land of Ruin, staining its desolate ground with the red brilliance of a Fiend's blood!

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