Chapter 570 Evaluation
Though Scar was superior to Kieran in every aspect imaginable — speed, power, technique, experience, battle sense — the Old Myths and their Successors couldn't look away from the spar between mentor and pupil.
Such a lopsided fight should have been mind-numbingly dull to watch, even more so because it was a spar and not a life-or-death battle where no holds barred applied — everything at your disposal could be utilized to ensure survival.
At some point, Altair had stopped leaning against the pillar for support and stood upright, his eyes trained on the rapid exchanges. It wasn't their movements that caught his attention, but what Kieran was doing in response to his mentor's counters and sometimes monstrous blows.
He was adjusting his use of his Innate Ability in real time to rebuff his mentor.
Eventually, Kieran had been met with an ineluctable punch. He accepted and prepared for the impact by drawing inspiration from what he learned in the Trial. Kieran formed an incomplete breastplate to brace his ribs, sternum, and vital organs.
Scar approved of that use with a subtle head nod.
"Excellent reaction, boy. And your body is much stronger than what it once was. And that blood control, befitting an Adept no doubt."
Kieran wiped the blood trickling from his lip and spat, grinning excitedly with a set of… perhaps demented emotions flickering in his eyes. He ignored the voices, though they continued to speak to him, compelling him to carry out their wicked suggestions.
"Be ruthless! Pull an underhanded trick. Find a weakness to exploit ruthlessly."
"…Gouge those eyes out. Feast on them. Drink his blood. It is so much stronger than yours."
The heinous whispers echoed nonstop in his mind, and it was not something Kieran could turn off. He had welcomed Madness into the deepest parts of himself, and now it would always speak to him.
It was a part of him.
As he tried to shake the thoughts from his mind, Scar's massive silhouette loomed over him, catching him in the stomach with another punch.
"What's the matter, twerp? Are you having some trouble handling the maddening voices in your head? That's what it means to be a Fiend. Understand that you may wreak havoc at any time, then aim to suppress it until it is needed."
Kieran choked from being winded by Scar's sudden blow. He hadn't realized his mind was elsewhere for that long. It had only felt like a second. Then again, people like Scar moved so fast that a second's delay could spell one's doom or triumph.
Nevertheless, the pointer came from a valuable source.
If Scar said the voices could be suppressed… then it ought to be possible. In hindsight, however, ignoring the voices had to be an application of Will, and the voices in his mind were forged from powers leagues of Kieran's own.
It made him wonder how strong his Will needed to become to suppress the voices.
Or… would he descend into depravity before he could mount that defense?
Kieran didn't know.
This wasn't a Trial where he had a separate Realm to experiment with. Something told Kieran one shot was all he had. Screw that up, and he'd be well and truly fucked.
But that was conjecture… backed by the biased experiences. The agony of a severely damage Realm clung was one of Kieran's freshest memories. It was not an ideal feeling, leaving lasting effects on every aspect of a Disciplined.
Kieran crumbled on the floor, then rolled and swept his left arm out, aiming to hack Scar's leg. However, Scar asserted his dominance by tensing the muscles in his leg, shattering the edge of Kieran's cleaver upon contact.
As the blood shattered, it formed pools of blood on the floor.
Not exceedingly large, but not so small it couldn't be of use. Kieran planted his free hand on the ground. The droplets seethed, then barbed chains erupted from within, snaking around Scar's legs.
He smiled, nodding in approval once more.
"Your chains are thicker, more dreadful. I can feel a stinging pain in my leg as if you're injecting some kind of blood toxin. Sadly, we are one and the same."
Every muscle across Scar's frame flexed simultaneously, discharging a sudden burst of disruptive Mana. It dissolved Kieran's chain while Scar's hand dropped inexorably like a sharpened blade.
Kieran's danger sense alerted him of peril, leading him to dodge once the chance arrived. Not entirely, though. The flesh was sheared off his right shoulder, and blood trickled down his arm.
It had done so for two seconds or less before suddenly changing.
The blood reversed its exuberant flow, returning to Kieran's arm as he grabbed the sheared flesh and slapped it against his exposed muscle and bone. Crimson threads attached flesh to tendon, tendon to bone, and skin to muscle, imperfectly healing the wound in seconds.
Discoloration from the cut remained, but Kieran's natural healing ability would handle the rest when he wasn't utilizing his blood to engage in a heated battle with his mentor.
That came as a surprise, somewhat alarming Scar.
Scar hadn't expected his Successor's healing ability to be so disgustingly tenacious. Then he remembered what made his pupil scenario — at least two Imprints were engraved upon his Body.
"Boy… how many of those things do you wield now?"
The question was ambiguous, leaving the spectators to question its meaning.
Few knew about the existence of Kieran's Imprints, and the Old Myths — save for Scar — were not amongst those few. Even the Trialmaster had chosen to refer to them as Imprinted Significance and not simply Imprints.
There were several ways to acquire that.
Kieran thought about the question and then held up two fingers… which gradually turned into three after remembering the Zenith Frequency's message.
Somehow, he had come to wield an unrefined Imprint, meaning the Lineage of Ancient Wisdom were not the only people capable of forming and implanting Imprints.
Then again, Kieran couldn't, in good faith, make that assumption.
There were a lot of things he didn't know. Like, what exactly was the Zenith Frequency? And who was the Watcher in the Sky in relation to everyone that walked the Boundary? And who or what was responsible for the chains attached to Oaths?
Those were amongst the pressing questions that burned in Kieran's mind.
'I'll get answers eventually.'
"Ah, that's a decent amount. I wonder what the outcome will be. I look forward to experiencing it with you. Now… prepare!"
Kieran's instincts screamed of danger as he watched a giant wolf's maw ravage his aura, biting it to shred before closing in on him. His first thought wasn't to dodge but to defend, frantically mounting a defense by crossing his arms over his cradled head.
The maw closed on Kieran but didn't bite into flesh.
He was entombed in a construct resembling a crystalline sarcophagus with many unbuffered sides and faces. His macabre thoughts sprouted a dire need, leading to what he felt would protect him most from death.
Scar was monumentally taken aback, noticing something strange about this crystalline casing.
"Runes?"
Some of the faces held minute runes likely imperceptible to the untrained eye or those lacking Perception.
Kieran opened his eyes and then laughed in maniacal disbelief.
"That's not all!"
With a deep breath, Kieran placed both hands on the floor of his current tomb. His Mana Pool plummeted dangerously, making Kieran feel quite woozy.
As Mana poured out of his by way of blood, a Blood Pentacle spread until it was half the size of Astraea's sanctuary.
In the next second, Scar paled before dodging between the rapidly moving projectiles bouncing around in a contained space. The projectile speed effortlessly surpassed bullet velocity, leading to frequent booms similar to firecrackers.
Then, Kieran's new ability reached its climax.
The gigantic orb fell with devastating force, the red gleam growing larger in Scar's startled gaze.
A deafening silence lingered after the outbreak of abominable power while everyone stared in wordless shock.
Kieran, on the other hand, furrowed his brow.
"That was so much so smaller and weaker than before…"
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