Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player

Chapter 616: Control Freak



Alice seemed strangely delighted to help Kieran through his struggles, inching closer with an inquisitive light shimmering in the depths of her gaze. Part of that interest stemmed from wanting to peer into the insights of someone who mixed magic and research, but it was primarily the result of Kieran's request.

Neither side had voiced their inner emotions, but it was very evident that Alice cherished Kieran on some level. After all, he was responsible for the wand she used, and she adored that.

Stepping closer, Alice leaned in toward Kieran, peeking at the journal to find absolutely nothing about it had changed. She furrowed her brows while holding her head at an odd angle. From there, she glimpsed Kieran's visage, and he saw hers.

"What exactly do you need my help with?" Alice asked.

"One second."

Kieran knew that all of this was a feat of mysticism. But not just any kind of mysticism. He had to wordmance to a point where it could persist without continuous channeling. Such a feat undoubtedly demanded a deft usage and proficient understanding of the foundational skills comprising wordmancing.

'Old Book, I have a question.'

A strange silence befell Kieran's mind, and then the Compendium's ancient regal tone echoed in Kieran's mind.

[What is it, boy?]

'Hypothetically speaking... how would I use mystic essence as ink to scribe the runes that are now in my head? I know it's possible because I've seen Agatha do just that, and she did it on the air where there is no concrete medium.'

[Ah, silly child. Reach an adequate level, and everything can become a medium- a canvas for you to leave your lasting mark. Alas, I wouldn't suggest you try to accomplish that ability. It is very demanding on essence control and compression.]

'I know, I know. I'm not very skilled, learned, or diligent in all the applications of mysticism, but I want to be.' Kieran replied mentally, pausing for a bit. '...I am trying to be.'

[It isn't that you aren't skilled. You are merely rushing where you ought to be patient and deliberate. Take the steps needed to solidify your foundation before seeking arduous endeavors. Relish the lessons in the failures. Master the mundane before looking to the skies.]

Eventually, Kieran could only release a resigned sigh, open his eyes, and meet Alice's question-filled regard.

"I don't know much about runes, but I have decoded the incoherent scribblings in the book. How well-read are you on the language of runes."

"Very," Alice answered. Then, her cheeks took on a light blush. "I'm not tooting my own horn or trying to come off as pompous."

Kieran shook his head. "My mind didn't go there. I know you practically lived in this - Tower of Rias? - you called it. I'd be quite surprised if you didn't pick up some runic knowledge during your stay. Disappointed, even."

"Right," Alice murmured, sighing softly.

Kieran looked up and around at everyone else. "Does anyone have a fresh set of paper and something to write with? I... don't have anything of the sort."

Alice raised a finger in reply, retrieving a set of paper resembling old papyrus and a quill that seemed to create its own ink.

"Ah, these are basic tools given to all apprentices of the Tower of Rias who seek to understand more than just surface-level spell-work. If you channel mana into the quill, it'll produce an endless not endless but dependent on your Mana Pool - amount of ink," Alice explained. Kieran nodded, examining the quill before injecting a modest flow of mana.

An inky-black liquid accumulated at the tip for a few seconds until it fell from the quill's tip, staining the topmost papyrus on the table. It was vibrant and bold, popping from the page in a magical and eye-catching way.

"Interesting," Kieran marveled, examining the writing utensil.

Then, he calmed his thoughts and focused purely on the runes seared into the inner parts of his Mystic Gate. His movements started rigid, untrained, and clumsy, leading to many blots on the first papyrus.

"Oh, this is harder than I would have expected," Kieran grimaced.

The process of etching runes was not as straightforward as he believed it to be, which is why Kieran belatedly understood why the Compendium was against guiding him in manipulating Wordmancing to a level beyond his current attainments.

When scribing like this, one had to be mindful of their energy flow. An inconsistency could skew the entire process, requiring them to either know how to dismantle and polish a rune or restart the whole process.

The former required a level of skill only a few possessed.

Those blots on the paper depicted moments of fluctuating control. Either Kieran's flow of mana was denser or thinner than before, each as damning as the other.

Eventually, Kieran had to toss the paper side. And another. And another. Soon, the process of Kieran scribbling, messing up somewhere and discarding the entire sheet repeated ad

nauseam.

It was a wasteful approach. Even though they were failures, there was ample room on a single page to continue failing.

Alice placed a hand on Kieran's shoulder when she noticed his expression contorting with frustration, irritation, and disgust. "You should relax. Anything relating to runes is mentally taxing. It can get to be overwhelming, but when it does, take a moment to digest what you've been doing."

Kieran agreed, leaning back in the chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose, gently massaging it to relieve the pressure building in his mind. The attempts thus far weren't so wrong they couldn't be stomached; it was an issue of control and nothing else.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

'Damn it! Control. Control. Control. It's always goddamn control.'

[Correct. Control is paramount. Without it, we become nothing more than beasts, slaves to our every impulse. And that there... is madness. We must stray from it. You... must stray from

it, child.]

The Compendium's tone was heavy with warning.

Though its knowledge seemed like a general truth, it was tailored to Kieran's exact situation. Should he succumb to the madness seated at the root of his power, he would devolve into nothing more than a mindless beast, hellbent on wreaking havoc, causing destruction and heralding ruin.

Kieran grumbled and groused, but he understood this was integral work. It couldn't be skipped over if he desired progress. There were parallels between wordmancing and runescribing, ones Kieran could already see. If he could glean that with very little knowledge, what else would he learn should he devote and apply himself?

That thought of what if bugged him, swarming his mind and nagging at him like an infuriating mosquito buzzing past his ear.

'Stop being a bitch...'

With a deep exhale, Kieran scooted closer to the table, leaned over the dwindling stack of papyrus, and moved his hand with driven intent bordering upon obsession. His mistakes were innumerable, but he didn't let that bother his resolve to see this through.

Off to the side, Alice smiled.

And further behind her, Bastion snickered, covering his mouth to stifle his laughter. He

couldn't help but comment, though.

"Oh gods! Look at him. The boss looks like a pouting child doing his homework. He's leaned

over a table and staring at that paper as if it's an enemy."

A gale of laughter erupted in the room, but Kieran remained focused one thought flowing

through his mind.

'Control. I have to maintain control...'