Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player

Dazed by Cardinal Weiss' words, Kieran stared in disbelieving silence.

'Long enough?'

Kieran blinked away the remaining fog over his mind and craned his neck to see the jagged peaks above.

'What does he mean long enough? That's usually what you say when you have waited a long time. Or maybe Weiss is just impatient.'

Kieran wanted to believe that thought, but a glimpse of his surroundings told him differently. The Lifeless Pass seemed dimmer, darker… like a strange dusk had settled upon the expanse of death.

The noxious miasma also seemed deeper in color. Kieran was experiencing what he could only assume to be night in the Land of Ruin. Or the arrival of night.

'So… not a couple of minutes. Hours then?'

Kieran's eyes swam to find proof to support his logic, but he was met with Cardinal Weiss' sympathetic gaze and consoling pats.

"I almost thought I lost you there. I didn't think you'd take more than a day to resist the resentful wails. The calmest wind carries the gravest song in this place."

Kieran's eyes dropped in thought.

'So, a day then. But why can't I believe it?'

It had felt no longer than a few minutes to Kieran at best. But, considering the pain rivaled the torment of engraving an Imprint, perhaps he was not entirely conscious throughout the ordeal.

There was also the factor of the Trial's strange time-flow.

Though Kieran was confident years had not passed outside of the Trial, it did in here. And while he was aware of that, the Trial was woven to be seamless. Outside thoughts seemed to get swallowed by a principle Kieran didn't understand.

Matters unrelated to the Testament of Dying Blood were severed and lost.

If the Anchor only released his Will after a day of enduring that anguish, it was lethargic in acting. No, it had done what the voice said. It had allowed him to reach his breaking point — the point where he considered breaking the Anchor but shied away from it.

And, he had done it unprotected.

He was glad his Will had returned, giving him a firmer demeanor… but Kieran would have appreciated something else.

Kieran stared at the now dormant Anchor in his realm with a grimace.

'So… Anchor? Would you suppose a trade? Maybe… take back my Will and give me my Blood Rune instead?'

There was no reply, and Kieran expected as much. He didn't know how to communicate with the thing or if it could even communicate.

Cardinal Weiss scrutinized Kieran and then spoke.

"Our resting place is beyond the mountain, and so our fate is not to fall until then. Rise, Condemned Fiend. You were made from resentments."

While he was forged from resentments and blood, those resentments were a drop in a vast ocean compared to the Wailing Sierra. But, for some reason, the challenge stirred something in him.

Kieran couldn't tell if it was good or bad, but it was worthwhile.

'It's like… a calling. And it's beyond the Wailing Sierra.'

Once Kieran recovered, Cardinal Weiss led him through the winding path of dreariness at the foot of the Wailing Sierra. But that road soon came to an end. In its place was an upward trail that clung to the first mountain to form the Wailing Sierra.

"These mountains can be treacherous. Keep a keen eye and watch where you step. Danger lurks everywhere. The wails are not the only things that wish to swallow you."

The Cardinal's expression was grim as he cautioned Kieran, who nodded back.

Rocks tumbled and fell, creating eerie echoes throughout the range. The wails remained, too, kissing Kieran's ear in a fashion he hated.

'Reminds me of that damned Flame. At least it makes sense, though. There are just ghostly mumblings.'

Kieran didn't dare enter his Realm of Self in such a dangerous terrain. Though he could sense the outside from within that place, it took focus to come in and out of the Realm. And gathering that focus took time.

'Maybe the process gets faster with time. That's food for thought. And so is whether or not I'll retain this ability once the Trial is over. I hope so because it's a convenient place.'

The answers were unknown, but the questions lingered in Kieran's mind.

As Kieran gingerly followed where Cardinal Weiss led, they came across a rickety bridge that swayed with the light, creepy breeze of the Wailing Sierra.

'I'm not scared or anything but…'

Kieran looked down into the tenebrous chasm between the mountains and shook his head. The darkness seemed impenetrable and seeking to devour.

'I'm not going first.'

"After you, Valdu. Cross the Tattered Bridge. It may look unsafe… but it's pretty safe. Well, as long as you don't fall and get devoured by the Screaming Night."

Putting up an intrepid front, Kieran gave Cardinal Weiss an impassive stare. Then he strode past, gingerly placing the weight of one foot on the Tattered Bridge.

After finding he was safe and sound, Kieran exhaled and walked the bridge with light taps. He had never prowled so lightly in his life. On the outside, he looked like a predator exercising their stalking skills, but on the inside… Kieran was trying to avoid danger by any means.

Perhaps the Flame could save him, but Kieran didn't want to take his chances with what the Cardinal called the Screaming Night.

It wasn't until he reached the other side of the bridge safely that Kieran released a breath he had unknowingly held. An episode of faintness washed over him, but it passed as fast as it came.

When Cardinal Weiss passed through, however, it seemed like he was going for a casual stroll, gliding over missing planks effortlessly. He looked weightless while moving like he was in supreme control of himself.

Staring at the bridge, though, Kieran's pensive eyes lit up with a questioning sparkle. The presence of a bridge had reminded him of the Sacred Myth's unique abilities. The carrier of that Mantle obtained the marvelous ability to link with others or become a bridge that connected two points.

However, Kieran didn't know if those were the limits of the Sacred Myth's abilities. He only knew what he saw, and surface-level information was insufficient to understand a Myth's capacities.

Regardless of what he didn't know, Kieran focused on what he did.

The Anchor was a culmination of the Old Myths pouring their power into the Trial's Portal. There was a fragment of each of their abilities present inside it.

What was his role as the Anchor then? He understood what it did for him — provided him with stability and support against the Flame, but more importantly, the Trial's challenges.

But what could he do with it?

Eventually, Kieran found himself thinking about a harbor and how boats released their anchor. Alone, an anchor was useless, but if it was attached to a chain, then its purpose became evident and intractable.

'Is that something I can do though?'

Kieran thought about the giant orb in his Realm but didn't enter that place. It had restored his stolen Will, which meant it was willing to give him things, but if he was going to interact with it… he needed help.

And when it came to dealing with matters regarding Significance, there was only one loosely reliable source he could turn to.

'I hope I don't come to regret this…'

With a resigned sigh, Kieran screamed out a name in his mind.

"…Flame!"

It took a few seconds, but a reply came in that naughty tone he had grown accustomed to.

"You called for me, my child?"

Kieran frowned at the form of address but disregarded it afterward.

"If I want to use or influence Significance, how would I go about it?"