Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player

Chapter 403 War Phantasmagoria
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Before choosing to enter the Immemorial Gladiator Trial, which was naturally part of Kieran's inevitable decision, he scrutinized this kneeling figure before him.

Could it give him insight into what he'd face inside the trial?

After all, this entity resembled a soldier prepared to battle to their demise, or rather… a warrior fighting to ensure their survival. Both of these definitions surmised the word gladiator—a battle-hardened individual whose only instinct was to survive by crushing their opposition.

Aside from noting the appearance of this kneeling soldier made out of blood, Kieran also noticed that the fountain was now bereft of any blood.

It seemed that creating this soldier symbolized the Bloodied Fountain's purpose.

It would undoubtedly fall into another state of dormancy to accumulate enough energy.

"Are you prepared, young boy? Do you remember what I told you before?" Veradin questioned him, approaching Kieran's side with a calm gait.

Now that he was on his feet and not seated at a table, Kieran could appreciate just how large and fearsome this old man dressed in loose-fitting golden and silver robes was.

'What he told me?'

With the man's words in mind, Kieran thought back to his meeting with Veradin. Ignoring the words that Scar and Zieg offered, he only paid attention to everything Veradin mentioned during their talk.

Eventually, Kieran remembered what Veradin was referring to.

"The 5th round. Is that what you're referring to?" Kieran asked.

"Correct. Even that young man, Ronan, remarkably pushed past the 5th round, seating himself comfortably within the 6th round before failing to persist any longer," Veradin revealed.

Mention of Ronan's feat set Kieran's gaze ablaze, igniting a flame of competition in his heart. After all, Ronan was one of the small few NPCs that gained Kieran's deepest recognition.

Unlike many, Kieran could sense that beneath his taciturn and mighty shell, Ronan was a despondent and aimless soul seeking a genuine and untainted connection.

Considering his past and the emotions that drove him, Kieran could sympathize with Ronan, but more than sympathize or pity, Kieran wanted to surpass and befriend him.

However… was doing so possible?

Ronan was a true aberration amongst Advanced Beings. He felt like an insurmountable boulder, despite the slim disparity in their level at the time.

Speaking of which, Kieran wondered how impressive Ronan's growth rating was and how fast his level would increase. Was it similar to Scar, who flew through the ranks in an admittedly bafflingly short amount of time?

With all of these questions cycling through his mind, the focused fire in him redoubled, reaching a point where even Veradin could discern the intangible battle spirit currently enveloping Kieran.

"I'll do it—I'll clear the 5th round."

"Results. Give me results. Not promise," Veradin said straightforwardly, clasping his hand through his loose sleeves behind his back.

'Right. At their level… they don't abide by promises. They abide by what they can view with their own eyes.'

Taking a step forward, Kieran approached the kneeling blood warrior. Their head was lowered in subservience, but the warrior itself wasn't of any concern to Kieran.

His eyes were locked on the object in its open, skyward-facing palms.

The object resembled a tome, but just like the expressionless and featureless warrior, it lacked any words. Nevertheless, though it lacked discernible words, it was permeated with an undeniable intent.

An intent to clash and engage in endless, strenuous battles.

Ready to undergo this trial, Kieran accepted the prompt, which instructed him to place his palm on the tome. The warrior melted into a ghastly puddle of blood as soon as he made contact.

Several rods similar to a forming cage soon rose from the puddle, enveloping Kieran in a startling gateway to the trial grounds.

The space between each rod was then quickly filled in by the spreading blood until all visibility soon vanished.

The last thing Kieran heard before feeling a strange sinking pull was Veradin's voice.

"Though I understand the insanity of having them… I expect great things from you. Don't turn me into a foolish old man bearing nothing but frivolous thoughts."

〈System: You are now undergoing the ?Immemorial Gladiator Trial?.〉

〈System: Welcome to the ?War Phantasmagoria?.〉

Following the system's notification, the blackish-red blood cage dissipated, revealing a battlefield so large Kieran couldn't see its edge.

All he could see was an endless expanse of shattered rock, uneven ground, broken weaponry, and destroyed armor literally everywhere.

It was indeed the scene of a gruesome war's aftermath. He was curious about it, but Kieran couldn't gauge how long this had existed.

However, given its name, Kieran also questioned if it was real.

The term phantasmagoria hinted at this sight before him being a dream, illusion… or even a nightmare. Yet, Kieran also understood it could be construed another way.

What if the battlefield was the nightmare addressed in the naming scheme?

Still with many questions, Kieran was forced to either dispel or push them to the back of his mind for the time being. Seconds after his arrival, one of the armors nearby had begun to congregate towards a single point, piecing itself together with the help of some bizarre blood energy.

If Kieran wasn't the wiser, he would have assumed this viscous blood-like liquid that acted as an adhesive was related to his power.

But… he felt no connection to it, so his doubts of that being so were very high.

Soon enough, the armor finished the bonding process, though it wasn't hollow. Inside the armor was the same type of blood found inside the Bloodied Fountain.

The difference with this situation, however, was that the tone of the blood softened, resembling human, tanned skin.

Beneath the thin horizontal visor of the angular helmet, two hollow sockets of glowing white light stared at Kieran, if staring was the correct term.

With a glance, Kieran could easily tell that what stood before him wasn't human.

〈System: The first round of the ?Immemorial Gladiator Trial? has begun. Prevail against the Fallen Gladiator. Inside the War Phantasmagoria, there are only a few things to focus on: battle, endure, kill and survive.〉

The announcement marked the start of the trial, but before Kieran could summon Crimson Ashrune from his inventory, the Fallen Gladiator shot toward him. As his eyes shifted to the Fallen Gladiator's right hand, he noticed its body careening in that direction, almost as if it intended to topple over.

But that's when he saw it.

In the Fallen Gladiator's right hand, a fractured halberd of extraordinary resilience nearly stabbed into the ground. But with its impressive arm strength, it made use of the halberd's advantageous range to send out an attack.

In response, Kieran created some distance with a sudden Surge Step. Still, his brows furrowed when the Fallen Gladiator's radiant eyes pulsated intelligently, like it was processing some lesser kind of sentience.

An instant later, Kieran watched as the halberd came hurtling in his direction.

'It threw the damned thing? Why would you throw your weapon like….'

Kieran didn't have time to complete his thought before swatting the weapon away. At that moment, he retrieved Crimson Ashrune, brandishing his trusted weapon with unwavering confidence.

Meanwhile, the Fallen Gladiator's approach didn't let up.

Clearly hellbent on seeing Kieran's demise, it pulled a zweihander from the tattered battlefield and leapt with the power of a mighty cat, striking down with all its might.

Kieran could feel the desire to kill present in this attack, and thus he responded in kind. The Vampiric Blood Encrustation crept up his blade deliberately, something Kieran cursed, but he had to tolerate it nonetheless.

Soon after, the sonorous wails of two heavy blades colliding and grinding echoed throughout the empty and vast battlefield.

Judging from the power of the strike, Kieran estimated that this Fallen Gladiator's fighting ability sat between a peak Intermediate Being and a newly promoted Advanced Being.

He could win. There was no doubt in his mind.

With a twist of his wrist and a shift in his stance, Kieran knocked the Fallen Gladiator away and chased, his eyes radiating a cold bloodlust. This first round didn't give him insight into the trial's later perils, but it was a chance to confirm a few speculations.

He needed to know if they were baseless. And if not, which particular base did it cover?

Stumbling backward, the Fallen Gladiator caught itself, recovering from Kieran's bladed shrug in record time.

Sadly, it wasn't particularly beneficial in the current situation. Kieran's forte was speed and power. Giving him time to muster enough momentum from a mighty rush spelled most of his enemies' demise.

With that, Kieran stabbed Crimson Ashrune through the torso of the Fallen Gladiator, his cold eyes near the helm of this inanimate yet driven opponent. He wrenched the blade as if wanting to see its innards spill, but it proved pointless.

There was none of the expected outcome.

Instead, Kieran was forced to dodge abruptly, shifting his body to the side while briefly abandoning Crimson Ashrune's hilt. A strike—unexpected, fierce, and swift—had come from above.

A two-handed downward chop.

The ground splintered, sending a decent amount of dust and shattered stone flying through the air. If that strike had connected with his body, Kieran would have suffered a gruesome wound to his dominant left shoulder.

'It doesn't have the weakness of a typical human. Even when damaged… it continues on. It's like a Berserker in this aspect, but there's definitely something more. Do I need to last for a certain amount of time?'

Among the key focuses this trial mentioned, battle and endure stuck out to Kieran. When combined, it revealed that he needed to endure battle. But upon deep consideration, there was also the killing aspect.

He was mandated to kill his opponent.

But… they weren't like the typical monster. No status screen revealed its health, ranking, or the like. Kieran was battling blindly in this regard.

Truthfully, Kieran preferred it this way. It was the unknown that excited him and made him feel challenged.

'Yes… force me to think. Train and refine my battle instinct,' Kieran thought.

Looking past the spine-severing wound he inflicted, Kieran noticed a change in the opponent's steadfast offensive stance.

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