The Anchor's denial had been infuriating, but it was an impetus to galvanize Kieran's final efforts.
One source may have been a coincidence, but two began a pattern. However, two was far from enough to establish the truth about Manic Integration. To learn the extent of its application, Kieran required assistance.
Armed with understanding, he called upon the Flame, which appeared in its usual puff of sinister smoke. Its expression seemed delightful, and Kieran soon learned why.
"My child, you are calling upon me far more frequently than ever. Have you finally warmed up to me?"
Kieran spared the Flame a somber glare before shifting the topic.
"On a schedule here, no time for small talk. Tell me, how many Fiends are there amongst your… faith?"
The Flame studied Kieran carefully before tentatively circling the young Fiend. For some reason, the Flame seemed more dubious than usual, and it acted somewhat furtive, as if it feared its plans had been learned.
"Why do you ask all of a sudden. And… why now, my child?"
Kieran scowled.
The only thing he hated more than Charles from the Golden Brigade… was having his question answered with more questions. He asked these things to receive answers, not experience a cross-examination like he was some witness on trial.
That idle thought... made Kieran chuckle despite the irritating circumstances, which the Flame misconstrued as a sign of foolhardy mockery.
"My child, do you believe me to be a joke after I've given you substantial might?"
Kieran blinked, giving the Flame a vacant look.
"…What?! Will you answer my question?"
The Flame lingered, but the longer it tarried, the more ominous it felt. A ruinous air seeped from its diabolical pressure, and its hollow expression began contorting with rage.
"No. Will you answer my question? I am the authority here. My inquiries supersede yours. Do you understand? It is my decision not to break you; do not slight that fact."
Kieran didn't quite understand why the Flame had suddenly exploded with its current indignation, but he had learned from experience that it was not something to be stoked.
When angered, the Flame became far too unreasonable.
Annihilation was left in this wake, and Kieran preferred if that didn't terrorize his Realm.
"You need to get a grip on that fury of yours. I'm asking because I need to know. My understanding of a Fiend's power is shallow, but if there are more I can learn from, I can shore up in insufficiencies and create a way of fighting that works for me specifically."
The Flame didn't quickly trust Kieran and take his words at face value. It continued with its domineering power until it found that the young Fiend's stance had not changed under the pressure.
The Flame acquiesced, lifting the pressure a few moments later.
"Very well, I thought you had ruined the surprise I had for you. After all… we do ruin many things. It's in our nature."
Kieran didn't agree or disagree with the Flame, but he did continue looking for an answer.
"…So? About my question?"
"Ah, right. Yes. To answer your question, my child, they're all Fiends. None of them are quite as strong as the first Fiend I ever made, but they'll at least provide you with a challenge."
Kieran didn't expect all of the followers to be Fiends, but then again, Kieran also had never seen them fight before. And for some odd reason, he couldn't see how strong a Fiend was. He attributed that to the bizarre nature of a Fiend and the Condemnation they were fueled by, which was like the answer.
"I sometimes forget that your Mind is incompletely refined, which doesn't allow you to sense your kin. No worries, that issue will be resolved… which leads me to the delightful surprise I have in store for you."
The Flame was notorious for its horrid misuse of pleasure words. What it described as pleasant or delightful was usually heinous and horrible — understandable, given its twisted nature.
"The beginning of the end is almost upon us, and as the Firebearer, I wish for you to use this time to become acquainted with the army you shall lead."
Kieran belatedly realized why the Flame went ballistic earlier. His question was eerily similar to the news it had to offer.
'Ah… it suspected that I gleaned the nature of its plan. But what was all that threatening about? Wouldn't that be paradoxical to what it sought? So… then those were empty threats?'
Kieran grimaced.
'Right?'
He sought solace in his mind, but he couldn't provide it. The Flame was too unpredictable to view logically.
Nevertheless, upon learning about the Flame's recent involvement with the members, Kieran readily agreed to train with them. It was conducive to his main goal, and it'd give him insight into the abilities of the other Fiends.
…
Outside the massive ornate gate linked to the Temple of War and Flame's catacombs, Kieran and every follower of War and Flame, save for the missing Cardinal Weiss, stood outside in the Land of Ruin.
Kieran was currently engaged in combat with one of the weaker Fiends, but he realized their weakness was relative. He had believed himself to be strong and only second to Cardinal Weiss, but he was wrong.
Though many followers were Unspoken like him, some were similar to Cardinal Weiss — the Risen of fallen soldiers refined by grueling battle.
But, as Kieran suspected, their arsenal bore an uncanny resemblance to what he could wield as a True Berserker, which confirmed Kieran's suspicions. A True Berserker wasn't a "real" Class but a manipulated facsimile.
A Blood Fiend was what a True Berserker should be, so in short, a Blood Fiend was essentially a True Berserker… with its limiter removed, giving it access to the power and torment it rightfully deserved.
'Would that mean I'll have to listen to something similar to the Flame's voice once the Trial is over? Oh god… I hope not…'
Kieran parried the sudden swing of a Fiend's large war hammer and kicked its flat face to create space. He had spaced out during combat while thinking of a near and deceptive future, but not enough to where he was put in imminent danger.
The Bloodwights had taught him a valuable lesson, and the Fiends were roughly the same regarding ruthlessness. They had supreme faith in the Flame's ability to heal their wounds.
The flanged spike of the Fiend's war hammer narrowly missed Kieran's eyes as it swept past his face in a violent arc. Fighting against these tireless war machines was a daunting task. It demanded constant focus, otherwise, Kieran would suffer a wound that may trigger his fury.
If that were triggered, the entire purpose of this activity would become worthless.
A scene similar to the ending of the Cullings would ensue, where Kieran wouldn't stop his barbarous onslaught until all around him was dead. And… the Flame would probably fuel that endeavor if it felt the payoff was worthwhile.
What would Kieran become if he absorbed all the resentments the other Fiends harbored?
Perhaps a walking nightmare.
Thus began the start of Kieran's active training with several suitable opponents.
Compared to theoretical practice, it yielded much better results. The crisis of merciless combat was an exceptional impetus but an even better crucible.
