Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player



Kieran rued the Culling and what it stood for. 

However, he was not alone in that emotion. Hatred toward the Culling was a unanimous thought amongst the Voiceless, which was completely understandable. Kieran didn't fault them whatsoever. 

He'd be a hypocrite if he did, and Kieran was no hypocrite.

'Not that I know of, no. Am I? Hmm… possibly?'

Kieran shrugged that thought aside. 

Through the Realm of Self, which acted as a mystical mirror for the consciousness inside to see through their normal eyes, Kieran looked at Cardinal Weiss with a somber expression. The mere mention was enough to invoke strangely contradictory emotions inside him.

On the one hand, he wanted to kill and attain greater power. Many lives would be reaped in doing so, but it was a consequence that Kieran was gradually coming to grips with. And that made him sullen.

On the other hand, Kieran wanted to protect the Voiceless and free them from their chains. He had been in their position; he could sympathize with the ignorant children being catapulted into a grisly situation.

But then… even that desire to help gradually died like a burning flame being drowned.

Before the Testament of Dying Blood had started, he would have confidently refused to enter the Culling. Now… he approached this situation with resignation rather than aversion.

Day by day, the compassion within him was vanishing. He didn't understand it, though. He had erected the Equality Gate to combat the Flame's corruption. Had it already seeped deeper into his conduct than he was aware of?

Or… was it that the Equality Gate could not purify what had already experienced the Flame's defiling touch?

Regardless, Kieran continued to lose and gain, maintaining a shifting balance. The change was minute, but it accumulated over time, and given enough of that, it'd become evident.

As Kieran considered the angles, he realized both scenarios could be the answer. That would explain why the Flame was so exhilarated by the coming Culling. The dormant parts would be reinvigorated, and even if they didn't permeate Kieran's soul space-wise, it could burrow down and spread treacherous roots.

'One step at a time. I'll never get anywhere if I live in fear of Flame. Somehow, someway, I'll find a way to extinguish you. If I don't… I'll settle for conquering.'

The Flame responded with an adversarial flicker, welcoming the challenge with perverse mirth. 

After that, Kieran left the Realm of Self, his mind returning to the physical world, where he gazed at the back of Cardinal Weiss. The bald man was leading him down the damp corridors of the Stone Hold.

The air was stifling, with a pungent odor lingering through the halls. It was partly due to the moss-covered walls but primarily due to the sheer bloodshed that had seeped beneath layers between the Stone Hold and the Pit of Culling.

The stench had gone rancid, even smelling a little fetid. Breathing the air down here couldn't be healthy for anyone. But no one cared for the conditions. If you succumbed to Flame, it would purge you and cleanse you anew.

When you were given that blessing, there wasn't much need for great attention to environmental health hazards. Still, it was a spartan and unfulfilling way to live. 

As Kieran approached the final corridor leading up to the Pit of Culling, a poignant feeling took hold in his belly. He didn't feel queasy or uneasy. He just felt… prepared and resigned.

It was strange, really. Now that he was so close to the Pit, his body acted instinctually and prepared him for its savagery. Granted, that was not all his cognizant doing.

It was largely related to the dormant Flame waking up in the vicinity of the Pit. But Kieran didn't realize that yet. He hadn't realized anything strange about the Pit at all, for that matter.

A large arena of death and blood. That's all it was to him.

The Culling of the Voiceless was a day of unbridled slaughter. Kill or be killed. That was the only two options that awaited the Voiceless on this day.

In the end, there would be a third. But that was just an expansion on the "being the one to kill" aspect. Once you survived, you became an Unspoken and were welcomed into the fanatical arms of the Order.

Walking out into the Pit of Culling, Kieran noticed a striking contrast from his first Culling. Of the many Voiceless that stood in the sand with demented gazes and rabid expressions, roughly six of them made Kieran feel wary.

Those six, in particular, felt like kin. Not to him, no. To the Flame. They were also touched and influenced.

'…Fuck me.'

Kieran should have expected a situation like this. Another more worrying fact was the pristine equipment that some of them held. Like Kieran, they wielded a weapon of their choice.

Like the first Culling, the gates slammed shut once the Voiceless had stepped inside the Pit. 

All of the Voiceless — including Kieran, who held his steel longsword at a downward angle — readied for battle. Cardinal Weiss stepped forward in the coming moments much like the first Culling.

If there were any noticeable differences, it was the excitement and craving for gore in his eyes. It was much thicker than it had last been. He was likely anticipating an amazing War.

"Children. No, you are children no more. You are the Voiceless, blessed challengers of the Flame's Glory. Today, some of you charge into your first War, hoping the Flame kindles something in you. Others… you are here to raze and bring additional glory to the Flame. Spread its majesty and bask in its embrace. Begin your War!"

The Pit of Culling instantly devolved into a hellscape filled with screaming children. Some of those screams turned into anguished wails, and some turned into furious roars like the bellows of a deranged beast.

Kieran, meanwhile, remained calm. The Equality Gate continued to pulsate while the Flame — stoked by Weiss' inspiring opening — thrummed with power that threatened to break loose.

Despite his lack of movement, the Flame had already shown signs of absorbing bloodlust. This confirmed Kieran's suspicions and worries. The Flame's scattered embers were connected, and each new cinder formed inside a Voiceless or resting within a follower was an expansion of its influence.

Luckily, the connection didn't seem uniform. It thrived in some areas and languished in others. It was all connected to the survivors' deepening and culled's fading bloodlust.

'You're feeding off the other's bloodlust. But you have never done that before.'

Whereas the others warred amongst themselves fighting the Flame's War, Kieran approached the Pit's periphery. He examined the cage while suddenly retreating from where he stood.

He had narrowly dodged a savage thrust from one of the six Voiceless he deemed a threat. This boy had the eyes of a wounded predator. But Kieran sensed something more perverse as he raised his blade.

'This damned Flame…' 

It was singling him out! A quick glance around the Pit confirmed this theory. Of the six dangerous Voiceless, all had their eyes trained on him and no one else.

The Flame was driven; Kieran had to praise it there. He could tell from its presence buried in the depths of the Voiceless' eyes. It wanted to enrage Kieran, drive him to the brink of madness, and then have him plunge into the Flame's intoxicating well of power where he could drink his fill.

No words were exchanged, but Kieran and the nameless Voiceless rushed at each other.

Their clashes were fierce and barbaric, carrying hints of refined skill, but one was fueled by a murderous entity. This was a fight where Kieran was immediately disadvantaged.

Not because he was weaker but because his attention was split between too many concerns. The Flame, its encroachment, keeping his emotions in check, maintaining the Equality Gate — several pressing matters weighed on his mind and splintered his focus.

More than that, fighting in an enclosed space like this, where many paths of encroachment existed, was too dangerous to focus on one enemy.

The opposing Voiceless was surprisingly skilled and incredibly swift. What he lacked in power, he made up with a whirlwind of attacks. 

Kieran retreated skillfully.

As he continued to fight the boy, he understood his rhythm and then disrupted it with pure, ruthless dominance.

Kieran transitioned seamlessly from a lunge beneath a wide horizontal slash to a rising diagonal slash in one swift move. 

The nameless Voiceless was beheaded, and his aghast expression remained as his severed head rolled in the Pit's crimson sands. 

Seconds later, a geyser of blood erupted from the headless body. All that blood fell upon Kieran, which created an enrapturing yet grisly sight.

The Voiceless could not compare to this fiend in the making. His infatuation with blood grew with every kill!

One less threat remained within the Pit of Culling, but it was no less dangerous than it had been moments ago. In their throes, many of the new Voiceless were awakening to the Flame's influence.

No, that wasn't quite right. Kieran knew what this was. The Flame was pulling another cunning move. It wanted him, and it would not be denied.

'...You're actually so petty. To spite me, you give them this glory?!'