Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player - Chapter 528: Tragic Loss

The contingent of Fiends remained atop the mountaintop for quite some time, lingering as they awaited Cardinal Weiss’ next move. Their current location was similar to the last summit they walked upon but not identical.

That related to Kieran’s newfound understanding of the Wailing Sierra.

Looking closely, he noticed the vast clearing below seemed extremely strange, like a caldera was left in the wake of another mountain’s destruction.

‘Did the Wailing Sierra used to consist of seven mountains then?’

It was a logical assumption. It would also explain their current situation and why the remains of a seemingly destroyed bridge hung from this summit, descending like an incomplete ladder with an unknown terminus.

More bridges were attached to this summit, though — each seeming more taut than they should be and their placement also appearing as crossroads would.

What used to be three passages were now two, limiting the paths one could take to advance.

The situation eerily mirrored some of the words spoken to Kieran during and before the Trial. It alerted him to the buried hints he kept trying to unearth. He had a long-standing suspicion that he hadn’t been plunged into madness with no way to solve it but instead given tools that seemed impractical thanks to his lacking perspective.

As Kieran stared at the broken, dangling bridge and then Wailing Sierra, the strangeness of it all became a tremendous weight.

The name alone had incredible meaning — the Wailing Sierra. It wasn’t wrong to say it gained its appellation through the winds that sounded like forlorn wails, but that wasn’t how it came to acquire its name.

The Sierra wept, for it had lost something of grave import.

Kieran could feel that as he stared at the caldera below. And from the looks of it, the Wailing Sierra had lost it long ago. .

‘Strange… why do I know that?’

Another thing strange about this place was the lack of the Screaming Night that existed between chasms separating each mountain in the chain. Land should exist between the Wailing Sierra, but it didn’t. Or it gave the impression that it didn’t. Like the land itself had been consumed and replaced by something bizarre.

Kieran gazed silently, taking the peculiar sight in with an inquisitive mind.

The Land of Ruin was riddled with ancient wounds, and within those wounds rested boundless history. It told a grim story of tragic ruin — one Kieran didn’t quite understand but was enraptured by.

It spurred a few outlandish thoughts, like when would he obtain the power to cull a mountain? But mostly made Kieran question why the Flame had brought them here.

There were signs of an ancient battle having been waged, the remaining mountains of the Wailing Sierra a testimony of that battle fought. Had they returned to the site of the Failed Reckoning?

Then, that would mean the Flame was simply repeating what it had attempted in the past.

‘Is the Flame insane?’

Repeating the steps of a failed venture and retracing the actions of a fruitless undertaking was the definition of insanity. Then again, did the Flame operate based on comprehensible logic?

Not really. At least, not in a way Kieran could comprehend. Its plans had always remained hidden, its deliberate step hidden by several deceiving feints. And so far, those authentic steps affected no one except Kieran.

‘That’s not entirely right.’

Kieran was the only one positively affected. The rest… they were, in large part, a sacrifice served on silver platters for Kieran to consume like a carrion creature.

It felt wrong, but the power felt so good.

As he continued to think about why they had come here, Kieran parted the contingent of Fiends and walked to the front, approaching the quiet Cardinal, who wore a stern expression.

Shortly after he reached beside the Cardinal, the old man spoke to him.

“Few will survive. I can feel as death calls to us from below and see where our fates will be written in blood. It is one the Great One will not attempt to save us from in the end.”

Kieran listened as the Cardinal seemed to speak his somber thoughts aloud. But more than that, the way the Cardinal looked below, it was as if he were watching events transpire like an innocent bystander.

Which, naturally, was far from the truth. The old man was no bystander, and he certainly wasn’t innocent. He had long forgotten how much blood his hands were soaked in, how many lives he claimed. But that all was a part of him now.

The Cardinal of War and Flame lifted his gaze to the summit’s edge and then gently pressed his palm forward. A formidable pressure shot forth, severing the miasma like a blade, allowing unobstructed visibility to the scene below.

Kieran had been right.

There was an edifice at the bottom of the ruined expanse below, two in fact.

Now able to see more clearly, Kieran learned the closest structure was a structure akin to a large fortress. It was primarily broken, likely weathered by the passage of time or perhaps by the aftermath of a frightening battle.

Kieran noticed another fortress at a distance, which remained hard to judge from their current vantage point. Though its dimension seemed smaller, possibly a misconception caused by a greater distance, Kieran sensed a graver threat from this smaller structure.

And then, Kieran noticed something far more critical than the structures themselves — people. While he couldn’t confirm if it were people from this far away, Kieran was inclined to believe his assumption.

The figures moved like people.

“The Ravaged Plain grows more vast as the Wailing Sierra continues to weep over its loss. The separation hadn’t been this large before. That’s fine… it’ll make for a more fitting battle. A glorious battle, indeed.”

The Cardinal of War and Flame finally acted, turning his head to the out-of-place mountain on the right. It had once been vertically aligned and closer but shifted when the Wailing Sierra’s heart was lost.

If one looked at the original Wailing Sierra from above, it formed a sharp L-shaped orientation like a heavenly arrowhead formed to pierce the world and be a God’s weapon.

Someone’s weapon.

That weapon had become broken and essentially useless, though.

After some pause, the Cardinal gestured for the Fiends to follow his lead. The out-of-place mountain held a downward path that could lead into the Ravaged Plain below.

Kieran followed on the taut bridge, keeping most of his attention on the plain below. The lack of the Screaming Night ate away at him. Why was it present everywhere else but here? Where had it gone?

Or… why couldn’t it intrude upon this plain?

If the Screaming Night refused to intrude upon this land, then answers to his many questions likely rested below.

The Cardinal maintained an unhurried pace as he led the Fiends down the path around the giant mountain. For some reason, Kieran’s instincts warned him of imminent peril the closer they came to the ground.

Kieran couldn’t tell where it was coming from because it felt omnidirectional. Familiar, too. It was bloodlust. Whose bloodlust? Kieran didn’t know. But it was intense, much stronger than he was used to.

Then, Cardinal Weiss spoke.

“We come in response to a threat to our lands. Our primary goal is to quell that threat, but if met with challenge, you’re welcome to exhibit a Fiend’s valor.”

The message was simple — do not start any problems with the people below, but do not shy from conflict either.

The undertones of the message got Kieran thinking. It indirectly hinted at the identity of the people below.