Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player

Chapter 630: Murderous Sentinel



For a time, the only sound present during their journey into the depth was the echo of their footsteps landing on the large platforms comprising the flight down. Each step was wide and long enough to situate everyone at one, almost as if it was designed to accommodate the movement of something much larger.

The unusual darkness that ate all light added to the unsettling atmosphere, leaving an eerie and chilly space. It reminded Kieran of Altair's ability with some minute difference.

Though his crimson flame was active, it wasn't much of a moral booster. It very much accomplished the opposite due to its inherent nature. Born from madness and fueled by carnage, the crimson flame engulfing Kieran's palm lent the darkness a spine-chilling aura. Something about the darkness being painted the color of blood left everyone unnerved.

And that drew everyone's attention from the descent to Kieran, who kept his eyes slightly enhanced with mystical essence such that it improved his eyesight to peer into the darkness but didn't push it to his utmost limits that would quickly exhaust his eyes.

Maintaining his enhanced eyesight should be possible for at least an hour at his current rate. Granted, that estimation depended on whether or not he lay eyes on something he shouldn't see, resulting in an uncontrollable flux of essence.

"How far down do these damned steps go? I feel like we've been descending for hours already," Bastion complained. "I'm getting cramps in my legs!"

Ezra turned toward Bastion, her deep red eyes flashing with a metallic gleam as if blades were hidden inside them. "That's quite literally impossible. I can't imagine a scenario where an Adept would cramp."

"Happening right now," Bastion said. He furrowed his brows and squinted at Ezra. "You calling me a liar?"

Ezra shrugged. "Well, I'm calling you something. Because I doubt you're actually cramping. You're just scared of the dark and are making excuses."

"Holy hell," Bastion sputtered. "Is this woman calling me out right now? Get her away from me."

All of a sudden, Kieran raised a fist and stopped short, squinting into the distance. He listened intently with a sharp, shushing noise, drawing his head further.

A strange noise came from the distance that he couldn't quite make out until his eyes widened, and he barked an order.

"Dodge!"

Without delay, everyone dashed away from the center when something massive collided with the steps, fracturing and damaging it in many areas. Webbed cracks spread across steps, threatening to be lost to the darkness below forever.

Turning back, Kieran saw that something giant had hurtled through the air so fast it created a piercing whistle. Feeling something warm on his cheek, Kieran touched it. There were specks of blood on his fingers when he pulled them away with an incredulous expression.

He was sure he had dodged the impact because he was the first to move.

However, their current condition was not ideal for starting a battle, and the integrity of the steps was unknown. Did anything support them? If it crumbled and fell, how would they return to the top?

Being stuck inside the Ruins of the Northern Sands was simply not on their agenda.

"Alice, create a large light source."

While dishing out that command, Kieran bounded forth.

Pressing his hand engulfed in crimson flames onto Crimson Ashrune, he began channeling the Mark of the Maddened so that the last floodgate prohibiting its flow was broken.

Blood poured from within, swiftly encasing the majestic blade in a second layer of blood. It exuded the promise of death, madness of carnage, and the riveting beauty of fresh, refined blood.

In the darkness, a single azure light blazed with a staunch firmness as if it would carry out its duty to the bitter end and did not know failure.

Hands as large as Kieran's body ripped through the darkness, swiping over his body as he lurched down and swept Crimson Ashrune up in a sharp, lethal arc.

The sword found its target but did not hew the opponent as Kieran would have liked. Instead, he decidedly abandoned his attack, wresting Crimson Ashrune free as a colossal fist pummeled the ground.

Jagged shards ripped through the air at speed, and Kieran defended as best he could, but his gaze never left that singular azure eye that resembled an illuminated jewel.

Now that the battle had begun, it was as if Kieran was an entirely different person. His gaze sharpened, his grip tightened, and his mindset became fixated on the need to murder and ensure his survival. He had become a predator who would hunt so that he wasn't relentlessly pursued.

Though he dodged, Kieran felt more stinging pain on his cheeks and a warmth run down his cheek. With a flick of his tongue, Kieran learned it was more of his blood seeping from his cheek.

Not just that.

Aside from the metallic taste of blood, he caught notes of sandy, grain texture, which attempted to lance his tongue. It was unsuccessful, but it gave Kieran insight into what was

wrong.

'Sand Manipulation.'

That reminded Kieran of one of Altair's earliest weapons, which allowed him to manipulate small amounts of sand to his advantage.

"A golem!" Altair called out.

An almost imperceptible umbra light - pitched impossibly darker than the original lack of flashed in the darkness, and it was succeeded by a chill and then an even darker,

light

harrowing aura.

That feeling emerged from the abyss itself, rising from the heart of darkness and shadows. It didn't take a genius to understand that Altair had just tapped into his Path; with that, he also began using the Lightless Shroud.

In moments like these, Kieran felt envious that his Unique Path didn't have direct combat applications. It was hard to tell what it could and couldn't do, thanks to the ambiguous description of it all.

Suddenly, didn't feel elated about being a Defier, Herald, Harbinger, and whatever else his Unique Path and Mythic Title deemed him to be.

Nevertheless, making use of Grand Stomp, Kieran launched himself high into the air, roughly tens of meters, watching as Bastion's shield composed of materialized Will staggered the immense golem, whose outline barely showed in the dark.

Luckily, he could make out some of its features thanks to Alice's actions.

Alice acted swiftly, raising her staff to conjure a massive ball of cerulean light. However, seconds later, it adopted a golden hue, giving off the impression of an artificial sun containing a sky. It sapped a large portion of her Mana Pool, but it was effective it revealing

their enemy.

The golem who attempted to kill them had a humanoid shape. And the turn azure eye Kieran thought he saw was no eye at all but a large jewel embedded in its chest. Its eyes were made of

amber stones that contrasted its dark exterior.

"This thing is hard as hell! Are you sure these are sand golems?"

Curious, Kieran stared at the foe until the Zenith Frequency pieced together information on it.

[Sentinel of the Northern Sands]

Level: 65

Detail: A lower-level guard of the Ancient Sands, specializing in defense and assault.

"Hmm," Kieran grumbled to himself.

Considering the monster had surpassed Level 50, it was definitely a foe meant for Adepts. However, its defensive capabilities were quite ridiculous. Not that Kieran wanted to toot his own horn, but he doubted many Adept could compete with him in a purely destructive aspect.

And that was true. Many of his abilities worked in unison, reaching a concord that greatly increased his destructive abilities.

It had only been seconds since the start of the fight, but Kieran was starting to feel the effects of his abilities. The [Cursed by Carnage] enchantment seemed to hold more secrets than Kieran gleaned. Though it stated that its ability would increase with the more blood Kieran spilled, what of the blood he had already spilled?

What was the baseline of the enchantment's effect? How demented and unhinged could he

become.

The thought made Kieran shudder, and that shuddering urged Kieran to ensure their battle ended quickly.

Seconds later, the Dread Circlet manifest around his body, thicker and more dreadful than it had ever been. Then, his descent started, and he lashed out Crimson Ashrune in a wild flurry. There was no pattern to how he brandished his blade, but monstrous arcs of terrifying energies had ravaged the terrain before.

Chunks of the bridge were ripped up, a part of the Sentinel's arm was severed and another was rent. Wherever the Dread Culling's arcs passed, destruction and ruin ensued. Slowly, Kieran was starting to realize why he was called the Myth of the End. It seemed as ifn/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

concepts unknown to him were branded into his very blood itself, enacting thoughts unaware

to his conscious mind.

Whose thoughts were they then?

Who desired all this ruin and destruction? Was it him? Did he still harbor grudges that could

bring about the end... or was it something greater?

When Kieran landed, the Dread Circlet remained around his body, but thick tendrils of darkness squeezed the Sentinel while a large blade of darkness pierced its azure jewel. Once pierced, the jewel dimmed, and the Sentinel collapsed into a heap of dark sand.

Altair retracted his Bayonet and recalled the tendrils branching from the Lightless Shroud. Meanwhile, the others swallowed in wordless disbelief and blinked repeatedly. There wasn't much for them to do with two Myths handling one opponent. And that... alerted

everyone to just how strong their leaders were. How much further they had to go to reach the heels of the people they aspired to stand beside.

Bastion sighed, and Nemean frowned with a dark expression, looking ruefully at his twin

shields.