Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player



In what seemed like a blink of an eye, another cluster of weeks passed for Kieran in this Trial-scape.

After learning of Heartsbane's ongoing creation, it frequently played on his mind, especially after hearing it was a weapon the Cardinal intended to give him.

However, though weeks had passed, Kieran hadn't heard confirmation that the Cardinal had emerged from the subterranean forge shrouded in darkness and metal. It seemed to be a comfortable environment for the old man, where he could be at peace and focus.

It was honestly astounding how well-immersed the Cardinal was while forging. Kieran suspected the Cardinal enjoyed forging more than he did the bloodshed of brutal battle — like it was his natural habitat. 

What dire circumstance could have shifted his path from pursuing transcendence in the art of smithing to barbarous combat? 

Kieran had attempted to divine those circumstances through repeated assumptions, but he didn't arrive at anything concrete. And, it was not something he could directly ask about, nor was he sure the Flame would convey his curiosity. It would seem somewhat trivial in its quaint opinion.

Though he would have liked the Cardinal's bestowal of Heartsbane to happen sooner, it wasn't required. Kieran found multiple ways to occupy himself over the past few weeks, with the primary choice being to focus on his blood powers.

There were times when he considered the thought of Mystic Blood and how it could play a role in forging a path unique to him. It was an unexplored area of power without a blueprint or guide to follow. Still, Kieran had a few idle thoughts about how to shape a unique skill using the Blood Mania as the basis.

They weren't actionable yet, lacking a few practical links to make a first attempt feasible, but Kieran felt he could accomplish it if he somehow derived inspiration.

Aside from that, Kieran also made ample progress with his blood. 

The most notable change was the hardening of the blood crust coating the weapon of his choice. The viscous outer layer had become thinner, and the delay between thought and action lessened considerably.

'It's almost ready. Maybe another month or two, and I'll be ready to bring what I've learned into the Realm of Self.'

Content with his attainments, Kieran closed his eyes and entered the Realm. 

Once inside, he strode toward the Anchor and stood beneath it. Though the Sacred Inheritor had implored him not to sever the connection because she enjoyed the human contact, Kieran severed it after some time.

He couldn't find peace with that insufferable woman's voice randomly appearing in his mind, especially when his focus was crucial. Indoctrinating his blood to listen to his commands took meticulous repetitions and usually left Kieran spent. 

The reason his blood acted contrary to his desire was his birth.

Born through resentment and blood, Kieran carried a piece of countless lost lives, each harboring a grudge against him and hell-bent on defying his every command. It took a lot of coaxing to vitiate the intensity of that defiance. 

With that being a test in itself, it was a crucible that forged the sharpness of Kieran's Will. 

If it was a blunt but resilient force before, it had become a sharpened blade to sheer the roots of antipathy aimed at him. It hadn't become some heavenly blade that could sunder anything in its path, leaving absolute destruction in its wake, but it gained hints of versatility.

With enough time and focus, he could shift from using his Will as a bulwark against incursion to wielding it as a blade against invasion. That subtle shift between defense and offense was an ability most undervalued. 

As a rule of thumb, versatility symbolized the lack of specialization, which many felt was a weakness. 

Perhaps it had its uses for battles of similar strength, but if the odds were heavily stacked against you, versatility was a condemnation. Or, that's at least a dogma instilled in those who had traveled far enough in the Way of Ascension.

'I guess that's a way of looking at it. A stick with what you know sort of mindset.'

Kieran had experienced many of those kinds of people in his lifetime. Those people tended to seek the extreme in one aspect, obtaining new complements along their journey to make it as far as humanly possible. But Kieran felt a little different.

'Without foreign perspectives to identify the weakness in what you're creating… it'll always remain incomplete or just shy of the creator's image of perfection. Versatility isn't a curse. Closemindedness is.'

As Kieran had these thoughts, he initiated the Call of the Anchor and resisted its great weight. He followed the same procedure, and within moments, the Sacred Inheritor's rang out in his mind.

"…Hey! You're finally back! After you so rudely cut the connection. Do you know how insane I looked yelling out to no one?"

Kieran looked on with a dull expression.

"Aren't you surrounded by creatures you can't understand? Why would that matter?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you, moron! I can somehow understand their thoughts and emotions. It's a strange kind of communicative ability. They can't directly express words… but I can feel what they mean."

Kieran furrowed his brows and nodded slowly before arriving at what he felt was an explanation.

"Ah, I don't think it's quite as strange as you suggest. Maybe you've become a sacred empath — a conductor of thought and emotion."

The Sacred Inheritor exclaimed after coming to a sudden realization.

"I can't believe you gathered the right words before I could. There's no way I'm more of a moron than you… right? Wait… no. You seem a bit different, calmer. AH! Did you get laid? Finally had some release to take off some of that edge."

Kieran's expression darkened as he massaged the bridge of his nose.

"I know I initiated this connection, but I'm already resenting myself. I regret every conversation we have with each other."

"…Ouch. What a sourpuss. Way to really murder the mood. Even if you resent it, I'm glad you called. In the time that you left me to stew in my loneliness… I achieved a breakthrough — a transformation of sorts, and I think I'm ready."

Kieran grew interested and nodded.

"Go on."

"Without going into great detail, let's just say… I can feel you in a way that allows me to see your presence."

He didn't know why, but Kieran somehow doubted the authenticity of her claim. To prove it, he tested her with a question.

"If you can do all that, tell me what I'm doing or where I am now."

A palpable silence ensued between the two, and just when Kieran considered the Sacred Inheritor to be taunting him, her answer came.

"I don't know how to describe it. But you're standing before something… massive — Significance, I presume. And around you are brilliant specks resembling stars in an abstruse space. But I also feel… terrifying emotions, many of which are subdued and contained."

Kieran's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. She had described the location of his psyche with incredible detail, which meant she likely wasn't lying.

"…I believe you."

"That's great. So, why is your hand out like you're begging? Oh! I get it. You actually missed me, but you're putting up a front."

Kieran didn't entertain an answer, and when he remained silent for too long, the Sacred Inheritor sighed dejectedly.

"You're no fun. I know you're holding my chain. I can feel that, too, now."

With a thought, Kieran maximized the power of the Call and summoned every Chain of the Oath.

Holding a grim expression, Kieran's free hand loomed over the Chains.

"Are you positive that you're ready?"

"Yes! …No. But do it anyway before I change my mind. I'm notorious for changing my mind midway. It has even gotten me into trouble a few times—… Ah!"

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