Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player-Novel



The Cardinal of War and Flame approached Fiends in tow, emanating a diabolical air. 

Though the Cardinal seemed as plain as ever, the Fiends behind him wore expressions contorted with rages while a mantle of destruction roiled off their body in a sweeping tide. Their presence commandeered a sizable constituent of the battlefield, but most importantly, the Banehounds reacted to their arrival.

All others on the battlefield became meaningless as a juicy meal appeared. 

With the power radiating from the Flame's retinue, the Banehounds could easily eat their fill if they tore into them with a vengeance. That thought almost made them move with abandon, but there was a procession to follow.

All creatures from within the Baneside were cannibals capable of scant growth through the consumption of races from the Place of Bane.  The Banehounds salivated in anticipation of a filling meal. Their spittle sizzled against the idle mounds of gray flesh belonging to the slain Bloodwights. 

That, too, became a meal as they lifted their massive heads, opened their large maws, and howled like wolves to a full moon. No moon was needed, however. It was simply a display of their overflowing excitement.

A ravenous inward cyclone erupted from their maws, sweeping the mounds of unclaimed flesh with stormy winds.

Adeia stared at Cardinal Weiss with eyes shaded by alarm, frequently looking between the Banehounds and him. 

"The rumors were true. You all do more than borrow upon that accursed power. You've become one with it."

"Sometimes things must be done to acquire the power needed to face a grave threat. We have no regrets about the choices we made. If you knew our past, you'd likely make the same."

The Cardinal's expression maintained that strange calm Kieran had sensed in him like he was missing an integral piece of himself. All that remained was a husk willing to walk into certain death for a cause and voluntarily confront and combat its embrace.

Adeia looked deep into the Cardinal's gaunt visage and saw rigid devotion. She could sympathize with the sentiments of a creed grand enough to die for. That's how she felt about her God. 

Cardinal Weiss exhaled wistfully shortly after, then spoke once more.

"Many will die. Prepare yourself as their commander. Steel your heart."

That advice made Adeia frown. Though she was young, this was not her first rodeo. She understood death lurked near all who would participate in a bloody battle.

"I am not so fainthearted to be torn up by a little bit of death. And I don't appreciate your low opinion of me either. Your words are an unpleasant omen upon us all."

"An omen…"

Cardinal Weiss' eyes shaded with something unusual as he looked skyward and gave a wan smile.

"These words come from the Great One. Not enough blood has flowed, and not enough fates have been severed from their owner. The saturation point has yet to be reached."

Adeia's eyes interrogated Cardinal Weiss and soon followed her mouth.

"Great One? You hear the words of a God? Which one do you follow?

"We listen to the boding of the Flame. Its words spoken are a truth upon the world. But I have spoken enough. You are not of the Great Lineage to know its tellings."

Silence overcame, and it grew heavy, as did Cardinal Weiss. He drew on his Aspects and the Flame, palms angled diagonally, and fingers splayed, rising slowly with the accumulation of his power.

From his feet, pointed blood sabatons emerged, enveloping him and offering might so much as it did stability. Then came lustrous greaves acting as a second, tempered skin over his legs. It extended up, connecting into other armor pieces, malleable enough to not restrict movement.

Within seconds, the Cardinal was outfitted with an entire set of blood armor. 

Sigils similar to the ones engraved within Heartsbane flowed through the cuirass, vambraces, rerebraces, and other pieces of "armor" all the way up to his bare face.

The symbols were carved with blood, supplying a presence crossed between tribal and demonic traditions. Red veins sprouted from his eye sockets, highlighting the sinister visage afforded to a Fiend.

The Cardinal flexed his gauntlets, satisfied with the level of power he pulled from the Flame.

'It has been a long time since I drew upon you so deeply. It is fitting of my final battle. I do not intend to leave this place alive, but let my last war be glorious.'

Everything seemed to quake in alignment with the Cardinal's power reaching a crescendo. His wildness returned in full effect, indicated by the blackening of his sclera, lengthening of his pupils, and reddening of his iris.

There was no indication of when the old Fiend had moved. Still, he did, appearing airborne high above the battlefield like a rising comet. 

Then, unlike the Followers of War, who would not dare walk into the membrane demarcating the Ruined Bastion's territory, the Cardinal of War and Flame fell like a titanic meteor, crashing into the rear occupied by the Banehounds with abandon.

As soon as he arrived, the Banehounds acted with impunity, snapping at the Cardinal with their ghastly maws. Dagger-sized teeth bit into the stoic Fiend, sinking well into the armor covering his body but finding no flesh.

A quizzical gleam shone in the eyes of the Banehounds, not understanding why their bite did precious little.

"Is that all, doggies? All bark and no bite? You've yet to mature. You're still Abominations and have yet to become Lords of your power."

The Cardinal flexed, sending out a frightening discharge. 

The ground within a three-meter radius became a crater, and the Banehounds were forced back. Thunderous explosions rang out as the Cardinal struck the rebounding hounds swiftly. His moves were similar to Draegerys, spartan and simplistic, gaining a few glances from the titan of a man.

He watched in well-concealed awe as the Cardinal repelled the massive three-meter tall and doubly long Banehounds with Strength alone. That was a feat of an Archmaster who understood the economy of combat.

Perhaps to a higher degree than what Draegerys had mastered.

The Fiends also fanned out, taking part in the chaotic battle. 

Whereas the Followers of War and their company wore grim expressions, the Fiends' felt unbridled excitement. Their smiles were wicked and filled with a disturbing glee potent enough to make their allies blanch.

Would they be destroyed, too?

The Fiends were far too wild, lacking the faintest hint of temperance. The carnage they wrought offered no peace of mind to the Followers of War, only more vigilance. 

"Are these guys real people? Look how they rip into those disgusting things!"

"I… I saw one of them rip a chunk of those disgusting flesh mounds with their teeth. The stench of blood was so rancid I almost hurled."

"Wait! One of them was pierced! Good riddance!"This chapter is updatᴇd by (f)ir(e).nᴇt

To the dismay of the Followers of War protecting the palisade fence and keeping it from falling, the lanced Fiends tore severed claws, broken teeth, and parasitic flesh from their bodies… and healed!

Cardinal Weiss' perception poured over the battlefield, taking note of the dwindling connection to the Flame each of the Fiends bore.

Then, he looked at the Ruined Bastion and how eerily still it had become as if it were biding its time and accumulating for something grand.

'The tide has receded… but the waves are unending. Deaths are already aplenty.'