Chapter 571 No Choice

The blood from the massive explosion ricocheted against the sanctuary's solid membrane, bouncing sporadically. The bulk of it converged at the translucent dome's height and fell in a cloudburst, pattering against the throne room's inlaid stone flooring.

Amid that deluge was a figure clad in gory crimson armor straight out of a nightmarish tale. A gradient of black shades gave the exquisite armor an ominous feel.

Kieran had only caught a glimpse of Scar using the blood armor.

It was speculation, but a deep part of his instincts told him Scar's current utilization of that blood armor far exceeded Cardinal Weiss' simplistic application. There were likely more aspects of power embedded in that armor. It felt like the armor's purpose was not just to defend — other effects slumbered beneath the surface.

If Kieran had to attribute that sensation to something… it would be Agrianos.

Scar was a direct student of Agrianos, who had dealt with Argexes and possibly the Thralls of the Maddened unleashed upon the Boundary. In doing so, he would have gathered a decent understanding of how a Fiend's abilities functioned.

And, as an Ancient who possessed a deep well of knowledge — be it practical, theoretical, or theological — Agrianos could likely refine techniques with his age-old acumen.

Equally important is his appellation as the Father of the Berserk Lineage.

Being able to dampen a power spoke to an intricate understanding of its nature. Kieran aspired to reach that level of insight, guile, and power. Which was further reinforced by what he was feeling at these very moments.

Despite dealing in the same power as his mentor, Kieran felt primal fear and an endearing rush of adrenaline course through his veins as he watched Scar don the armor that symbolized the consummation of a Fiend's ability to augment themselves.

That meant his final attack had been strong enough to warrant such a reaction. Perhaps it was an overestimation of his current abilities, but it made Kieran grin nonstop.

Scar, meanwhile, absorbed the armor into his skin, casting a judgmental eye upon his pupil while cracking his neck.

"That new skill of yours packs a pretty punch — a direct fusion of blood and magic runes."

Kieran walked up to Scar with a smug smirk and rapped his chest.

"I got you real good there, didn't I, old man?"

Scar scoffed and shrugged his pupil aside in a fit of laughter.

"I wouldn't say all that, now. Rather, you took me by surprise. I wasn't expecting that grand finale, and my oversight caused me to prepare hastily. Chalk it up to you pulling a fast one."

In Kieran's eyes, a win was a win, which showed in his teasing, perhaps pompous expression. None of it indeed went to his head, though. In a way, it was an attempt to hypnotize himself and avert his gaze from the stark reality unraveling around him.

The Myths bore a grave fate. And the power he had now could not overcome a calamity capable of sundering a Boundary. It wasn't something a single person could resolve.

After all, Kieran had witnessed that truth with his eyes… sort of. Not even Agrianos could outright kill Argexes. Their best alternative was sealing the walking cataclysm up for eternity.

But the entire situation was curious.

Kieran saw the second coming, which made him shudder. An ominous chill tingled his spine.

'If Argexes came of the Second Coming… what came during the Failed Reckoning?'

Kieran's expression gradually darkened and grew solemn, staring at Scar.

Before he entered the Trial, Scar admitted to withholding information, but how much was he keeping to himself? How much of it was bound by the Oaths imposed on the Myths?

Replacing the Myths with Successors didn't seem like a lighthearted move. What would the Old Myths be beholden to if they shed their original Oath right now? Like Kieran and the rest, the abilities of Scar and his peers were anchored in their Source.

Kieran approached Scar and stared him in his eyes.

"So what now?"

A simple question, no doubt. But it was the elephant in the room after having seen the Pulling Chant. The Successors that exited their Trial had felt no different aside from the powers and refined abilities they gained.

It was a question aimed at Scar, but all the Successors should pose it to their predecessors.

Scar scratched his head, looking around the throne room before ultimately looking back at Kieran.

"Now… well, I'm sure you can figure out what's to happen. You must all pledge your allegiance to the Boundary, accepting the Chain that comes with it."

Kieran looked at Altair. And from Altair, he stared at Daedric, who stared back, meeting his gaze with a driven expression.

The titan seemed resolute and almost overzealous. His rivalry had clearly not died, but Kieran saw things in Daedric's gaze he recognized.

Something seemed awfully strange about Daedric.

Kieran shrugged, not overthinking on the matter.

Then, he looked at Lunariel, tilting his head in question. Looking at her, Kieran was reminded of Hekaina's interaction with Agrianos during the final battle.

Their voices were low, almost incomprehensible, but he had read her lips. While he didn't know how she had accomplished it, Hekaina injected images of a potential future directly into Agrianos' mind, alerting him to the severity of their situation.

'Maybe there are some parallels between her empathic abilities and the skills revealed by Hekaina. There's always the good book to refer to, and if not…'

Kieran could always visit the Enchantress' homeland.

From Lunariel, Kieran watched Ragnar momentarily, leveling with the strapping, seasoned man. Ragnar's abilities seemingly revolved around lightning and thunder, but there was more to it. Though Ragnar had not fought for long, he was a force to be reckoned with in all senses.

His attacks could unsteady his opponents with their thunderous detonations, and he was implausibly fast, perhaps only rivaled by Altair in pure speed.

Kieran stared at the two Successors he didn't know, sifting through what memories he could rely on, rummaging for anything on them.

He came up blank.

Either they were nobodies in his original timeline, or his memories had more holes than he realized. Both scenarios spelled misfortune for Kieran.

The former meant many threads were deviating from the timeline Kieran could somewhat count on, creating paradoxes he couldn't fathom. The latter suggested his return had screwed up his head tremendously — more than he had assumed initially.

Nevertheless, the two Successors — Linked and Natural — stared at Kieran also, noting the questions swimming in the looks he gave them.

"I never caught your names. What are they?"

The Linked Successor, wearing a giant bow fastened to his back, etched with the same strange runic markings as his tattoos, tipped his hat and then looked through his brows, revealing sharp emerald eyes.

"The name's Jaeger, mate."

Kieran nodded, turning to the Natural Successor, who seemed like an oriental priest or believer in faith, almost close to a sibyl in appearance.

"Aria. I'm glad we've finally gotten introductions out of the way. Somewhat late, but better late than never."

Kieran stared at Jaeger and Aria before looking back over at Scar.

"I guess… we have no choice but to do this thing, huh? I mean, if we want to progress further than where we are now… it's pretty much mandated."

Scar watched the remnant of the Portal of Seized Time vanish, then approached the broken throne, standing in the center of the runic circle surrounding the throne.

Then, the Old Myths assumed their positions, with Astraea guarding the door with elevated palms.

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