Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player

Chapter 626: Misguided Opinion



The map translated from Bundal's log suggested that the Castellan's Catacombs were located near the Aubrililes Kingdom, which neighbored the Aeredale Kingdom inside the Xesian

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There was both vocal contempt and unspoken malice between the two kingdoms, which Dusvim had confirmed before his death. Because of what he knew, Kieran wondered how deeply rooted those harbored grudges went.

Or if there was another reason for the falling out, what was it?

'It wouldn't be wrong to assume Aubrililes is implicated in this scheme if we consider the location of the catacombs. But it's also far enough to argue that they weren't... or aren't involved.'

Kieran let his thoughts roam while sitting in the carriage. Instead of steering the carriage, he left that to Alice, who had Bastion and Nemean as her rambunctious bodyguards.

Even now, Kieran could hear pieces of their conversations and Alice's resigned weary sigh. "You're not very nice, you know," Ezra suddenly commented, making Kieran lift his gaze. She was staring at him with an upturned lip while disapprovingly shaking her head. "You definitely put those two in the front on purpose."

"Of course," Kieran admitted. "Have you heard those two? They don't shut the fuck up, and I need to think for a bit. We're going to unfamiliar lands where the situation is unknown."

Ezra answered with a soft groan, but her eyes lingered on him with a judging gaze. He had pleaded guilty to the accusation, but she didn't seem content with that answer. Or maybe there was something else on her mind.

"What?" Kieran finally asked, unable to endure the looks Ezra was giving him.

"I don't know... something seems fishy. And I feel like things aren't adding up here. And by things, I mean you."

"Explain?" Kieran raised his brow.

With a sigh, Ezra combed her fingers through her silken hair, falling in a cascade as dark and beautiful as midnight. "Well, you don't seem like the Kieran I remember. How do I say this? You seem more cautious despite the power you've gained. And that, too, you keep under tight wraps. It boggles my mind, and I just don't understand it."

She stopped for a moment and looked out the open end of the carriage, allowing her gaze to slowly trail back to Kieran, continuing:

"I'm not saying you no longer feel reliable because it's quite the opposite. You exhibit an indescribable sense of security through your levelheadedness, foresight, and caution. Only —" Ezra bit her lip, seeming to consider whether she could continue voicing her thoughts until she saw Kieran nod subtly."— it feels as if you're fearful. Like your unshakable confidence has been shaken, and you're no longer as brazen."

Silence soon befell the unsteady carriage as Ezra squirmed beneath Kieran's quiet, intense gaze bore into her. Maintaining eye contact with him had proven difficult, if possible at all. Those eyes... those deep, sinister, cold, brooding eyes.

They sometimes felt like too much, and it was warranted.

Kieran could see many unknown emotions rippling in the depths of Ezra's bright red eyes. Only once the silence grew heavy enough did he speak to ease the displeasure.

"That's the thing," Kieran started. "I have never been fearless, and I am far from perfect. Yet that is what everyone assumes me to be when all they witness is my triumph. I am human, and thus I feel."

Somehow, in this moment of speaking, Kieran seemed much smaller, much frailer... much more vulnerable than ever. To Ezra, at least. She was not part of his inner circle, who was privy to his internal struggles and battles with demons.

"I..."

Ezra was at a loss for words, not knowing how to reply to Kieran's comment, not that he needed one. Because when she stopped, he began talking again, effortlessly moving along the conversation.

"Abandonment, loss, anger, pain, hopelessness - I've felt it all. And I've felt it all again recently. And I'll never stop being reminded of those things. That... is my burden to bear."

Kieran lifted his palm to Ezra's face, showing the Mark of the Maddened as it gleamed with a dangerous red light. It painted half the carriage red like a murder had just taken place.

He wasn't sure what compelled her, but Ezra grabbed his wrist and tilted her head until her eye level sat perpendicular to the mark. Then, her face contorted into a group of lines that expressed her bafflement.

"Okay, that's weird. Why does this symbol look like cross between a taunting smirk and a nefarious toothy grin from some true evil?"

Retracting his hand, Kieran examined the Mark of the Maddened from an identical angle, and she was right! It looked subtly different like the strokes had moved to imitate a mocking grin.

"That's new," Kieran muttered, dropping his hand. "But, like I said, I am far from perfect. I may carry myself differently when angered and targeted, but this is my rawest form."

Ezra grimaced, avoiding Kieran's gaze like a scolded child despite his lack of outrage, reprimand, or plain anger.

Extending a finger, Kieran lifted her chin as if it were the most natural action he could perform. "Hold your head up. It wasn't wrong to voice your thoughts. Quite the opposite, in fact. It'll keep you from making assumptions and having misunderstandings."

Meanwhile, Ezra's eyes widened and her breathing hitched like it had been caught on

something. Her fingers jittered by her sides before seizing completely.

"Right." She nodded. As she calmed her nerves, she squeezed out another sentence. "I want to thank you for accepting me with open arms. Eclipse... was my home, but I hope to find a new

one here."

"Let us build one instead of trying to find it," Kieran answered.

Then, he fell silent and closed his eyes.

Kieran found a quiet place in his mind without entering his Realm and started stimulating the Mark of the Maddened to rile his blood. His pulse climbed to a staggering height, reaching a level where it threatened to beat out of his chest and wish to be free, but he placed a constraint on its actions.

When it felt like his blood would rend his veins with its sheer force, Kieran gave himself a small rest period, giving his body time to acclimate. While the others learned what their limits had been on over the past few days, Kieran had spent his time diving into his inadequacies in an attempt to shore up the horrific imbalance.

It wasn't a successful endeavor, but it wasn't a failure either.

Kieran had gained insight into foundational skills, which reminded him that there was a foundation to the other half of his abilities - the dire need for control.

Luckily, this journey gave him an opportunity to practice, refine, and understand his blood powers. But if he wanted to train properly, he had to consider his way forward as an Adept. And that answer was simple - walking his Unique Path.

The future was unwritten and impossible to divine, but he could accurately guess what he would be centered around.

Thus, with that understanding, the first step was tempering out all of the defiance rooted in his blood to gain an early mastery over his Mark. It might be connected to something far beyond his current horizons, but it was on his body, and no one was free to dictate his fate. That was the basis of his Unique Path, of the Defier that he was.

'Faster...'

His blood churned despite the pain he was feeling all over his body, and when it grew almost unbearable, a dense blood aura began seeping from his pours, suffusing the entire carriage with a pungent metallic scent.

'Faster...'

Until the Mark of the Maddened heeded his every command, including the ones seen as potentially disastrous, Kieran would continue to drive himself to the brink... to where

Madness was said to exist.

Something would have to give eventually.

Either his mind... or his body.