Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player

Moving through the Night was a strange feeling, not quite the same as venturing through the Drained Space, but similar in concept. 

Inside the Night, Kieran could feel an insidious chill trying to invade his body coated in a mucous membrane, but once it found kinship in Altair's power, it retreated… only to return as if it had forgotten the entire exchange seconds prior.

'This place is strange… but even stranger is Altair's ability to traverse it.'

Their mode of travel couldn't qualify as fast, and if it weren't for his hands being linked with Altair, Kieran wouldn't have sensed the Night itself shifting around them. 

It was a strange sensation, one Kieran couldn't fathom.

The shifting seemed erratic but guided by an intent Kieran couldn't place. And Altair was navigating those shifts like a mariner at sea, guiding a nautical vessel through turbulent seas. 

To Kieran, however, the Night seemed deathly still.

If Kieran had become a Fiend… what had Altair become? Expertly maneuvering a place that inspired dread in Kieran had to result from a powerful ability.

'And upgrade of the Lightless Shroud, perchance?'

Though he wanted to focus on his Realm to deliver a message across the Hidden Chain, Kieran didn't feel it was an intelligent decision inside the Night. This place was all too curious and felt wildly foreign.

Luckily, they did not remain within the Night for long, stepping through its corrugate threshold, which Kieran thought felt extremely odd. As he passed through, it felt like he was being compressed, in the way one squeezed a tube of toothpaste to push it out.

Kieran braced his knees, gasping deeply. 

The sudden transition from having his destroyed heart healed to stepping into the bizarre Night and finally emerging back within some part of the Citadel of Resentments left Kieran breathless and in need of a reset.

Altair released Kieran's hand, taking a step back to analyze his friend.

"You know… you don't look all that different from your typical look. Just a tad more sinister… and sinewy."

Kieran craned his neck and stared at Altair, shaking his head subtly. 

It had been a long while since Kieran got a good look at his current body, so he wasn't too sure of the changes it had experienced.

The glimpses he caught in the weapons of his opponents didn't count. After all, he had only recently completed the Testament, and there was no telling what changes the fortification of his power elicited.

Having gathered himself, Kieran sent a message through the Hidden Chain, earning a chuckle from Altair.

"Perhaps you're not wrong… sadly, I'll never know. I can't exactly look in a mirror and go, oh, I look similar to my norm."

Kieran stared at Altair with an inquisitive glint in his eyes. 

He was interested in the perils his friend had to face, how they compared to his own… and how he triumphed. As curious as he was, though, Kieran knew it wasn't the time or place to ask the Traveler of the Night to recount it all.

With time, he thought.

Staring gravely at Heartsbane, Kieran tightened his grip until his knuckles turned a ghastly white. The Cardinal had cautioned him against using this blade.

But now that he wielded it, Kieran didn't quite understand the meaning behind the dissuasion. The great blade felt tame in his palm, like a tool forged exclusively for his use. If the warning was not intended for him… then who for?

Logically speaking, there were only two candidates — Kieran or the Flame. And through the process of… single elimination, there remained a sole answer. But that begged questions, ones Kieran belatedly realized the answer to.

'In placing a piece of himself inside Heartsbane… Weiss likely lost the aegis of whatever kept him from wholly serving the Flame. And with that loss… came an aversion to the weapon he created. So, the creator feared his own creation? Why does that sound…'

Kieran blinked, ending his thoughts there until he could compile them properly. 

A creator fearing their creation was usually a recipe for disaster, and this Trial was rife with them… thus that realization didn't bode well with the Fiend.

Looking over to Altair, Kieran nudged his chin in the direction of the fight up above.

"We'll have to travel the old-fashioned way. Bringing a passenger into the Night stressed my limit. I'm meant to wander the darkness alone. Any longer, and I would be completely spent."

The idea of their powers having limitations was to be expected. 

After all, a limiter was placed on every Myth, and that constraint was the Oath itself. Still, their extremes had to be tested to understand how potent their abilities were.

Altair led, and Kieran followed. 

It was no surprise that the former far surpassed the latter in pure speed, but when the distance between them grew too large, Kieran bounded forth, exploding with forceful momentum.

At the speed they moved, far faster than either of them could muster outside the Trial, Kieran broke the surface, darting up the spiraling staircase behind Altair.

All of a sudden, once they reached the level of the great hall, Kieran staggered, assailed by a powerful outbreak of resentment. There was death… so much of it. It flowed everywhere without end, spilling across the Ravaged Plain.

At first, he felt a glut of sensations, but now the Flame transferred crystal images into his mind. Kieran watched tens of perspectives, witnessing in wordless shock as the Fiends ripped to shreds and feasted on by creatures from the Place of Bane. 

As he looked from the point of view of the Fiends, he noticed the Followers of War were in complete shambles, save for the commanders who continued to fight valiantly with the might of Masters and Archmasters.

Rage bubbled in Kieran's mind, hairs of resentful power bristling across his skin. Awoken from its unknowing slumber, the might of a Fiend, one more unique than the rest, exploded from him.

All that remained in his wake was a mist of blood and a mantle of chilling fury.

Altair spectated silently before giving a wan smile. 

"The strong grow stronger. In his case… the freakishly strong."

…

Kieran emerged from the Citadel of Resentments. He became a red blur streaking through the air as he bounded toward Cardinal. From one of the perspectives, he had witnessed the man overcome by a foe straight out of a fantasy novel.

A vampire or some iteration of a vampiric lifeform. Crimson eyes, alabaster skin, sharpened fangs and enhanced physical abilities clad in a lithe frame. If that wasn't a vampire, Kieran didn't know what was.

But it wasn't alone… there was an entire legion of creatures like that, all of varying strength. 

"Get back here, my child. Do not be foolish! The momentum of this Reckoning has become unstoppable. No matter what you attempt… it shall not fail like the others. Destruction is coming."

Kieran ignored the Flame and broke free of the restraint it tried to place on him. Its influence over Kieran had grown too thin. 

All he could hope was that he wasn't too late in coming. Some part of him knew he was powerless to change the events written in time, but he watched the Cardinal sacrifice so much. 

It felt too unfair. 

Landing amidst the chaotic battlefield of razed lands and pooled blood, Kieran looked at the Cardinal's wan smile.

"Valdu… you made it. It seems this old man does not have much more left in his tank."

As he spoke, the Cardinal gurgled blood. His body was riddled with wounds, blood armor torn and broken in many places. But these wounds could all be healed… if the Flame wanted that.

But the Fiends had exhausted their use. Their resentments were to power something much more significant.

"That rage you feel, boy. Unleash it. Let it flow. Destroy it all."

With his last words, the life in the Cardinal's eyes vanished, and he fell into a pool of blood.

The world grew silent around Kieran as he simply watched the vast vista of gore around him.

'…Destroy it all.'

Heartsbane commiserated with the pain in Kieran's heart. A link was born… and from that link came a pulse and purpose.