Each Successor approached their predecessor and knelt before them with their heads hung low, accepting the passage of a strange feeling.

It wasn’t so much a weight as an abstruse constraint, burrowing into them in ways many except Kieran and perhaps Aria and Lunariel couldn’t fathom.

Kieran had no clue what it was doing to the others, but for him, it fastened around the edges of his Realm without squeezing too harshly. Perhaps it wouldn’t constrict until he rejected the Oath, which Kieran had no design to currently do.

Oaths felt supreme, at least to the current him.

They felt like the pinnacle of concepts currently lost upon him, and Kieran was no fool to believe his Will transcended the likes of Scar and the others. Before them, he was nothing more than an ant waiting to be crushed for stepping out of line.

Of course, killing a Successor would be contrary to their purpose.

And that was an act of sacrilege towards the Watcher in the Sky. There was no telling what the ire of the entity looked like. And Kieran could not guess the station of a being capable of ripping points in time from the flow of it, weaving it into an edifying experience.

Maybe a God, a rightful one. Or not.

As he kept his head low, Kieran pondered these questions.

‘Why did the Old Myths need replacing? What task are we about to be beholden to?’

The truth of everything always seemed to be given its measured dosages, temporarily quenching Kieran’s thirst, only to have him parched shortly after.

His thoughts began a never-ending cycle of inquiries repeating in his mind.

‘There is safety in danger and danger in safety.’

That’s how he understood his current situation. And he could reason with both points of view.

On one hand, being a Myth in itself was a perilous post. Though Kieran and his peers represented the pinnacle of what a Disciplined should be able to attain in terms of Class, and many would vie to have them, the Myths were safe.

Granted, that safety was only promised during the tenure of their post. If met with unfortunate circumstances that challenged their duty and the Myths abdicated their position, that security would vanish.

On the other hand, danger lurked in the most inconspicuous corners, and it could even come from your own corner where you were supposed to feel safe — a betrayal.

The Flame had betrayed the Fiend’s trust in the end. Raising their hopes only to turn them into sacrificial lambs to fatten Valdu or, more correctly, fatten Adeia in his place to expedite the inevitable.

As Kieran was occupied with thoughts, words flowed to his mind, forming coherent sentences after a time.

Sentences meant to be uttered by him to give them solidity and permanence. It was his Oath, and though Kieran thought he was prepared for it… reading through those words unnerved him.

Fear wasn’t the emotion he felt toward Oath. Disdain? No, not that either. Then he realized it was uncertainty. The Oaths were meant to make him feel safe and secure, but the vows felt wrong and nearly exploitative — like an employee entering an inequitable and almost unethical contract.

Was this Oath tailored for him… or did the other Successors have to accept identical constraints? Considering his experiences inside the Testament of Dying Blood, Kieran’s answer leaned toward the former.

As Scar had said… the Fiends ruined the worst, not because of their tremendous physical might or abilities steeped in carnage, but because they tread a fine, treacherous line. One misstep could plunge them over the edge, turning them into a Thrall of the Maddened.

What would happen should that ill fate become of them? The Oath made it clear.

Kieran drummed his fingers against his thighs, clenching and relaxing his jaw while ruminating. He knew the choice he had to make, but he also couldn’t tell the future.

Again, Kieran was feeling unsure. But he could feel the Successors around him speaking their Oath, readily accepting the burdens they applied.

Scar looked down at Kieran, noticing his nervous twitches.

“I know the price we pay may seem steep, boy. But you have seen the power we can wield. The price matches the commodity. And when you learn more about this world…”

Scar knelt beside Kieran, whispering the last words into his ear.

“You learn that nothing is as final as many make it out to be. And that Path of yours — yes, I can sense the presence of one rippling from you quite intensely — feels unique. Trust in it… where it will lead you.”

Kieran didn’t trust blindly, but Scar’s words were valid. He walked a Unique Path centered around defiance, and his greatest act thus far was immortalized by a title he had yet to assess — Defier of Fate.

Defier of Fate (Unique – Title): Fate was thought to be absolute, insurmountable, and ineluctable, but you defy that logic — defy fate. Your soul boldly wanders the edge of its authority, challenging its vigilant constraint. You want to break free; it is your nature. Chains wrap around you loosely, but never too tight, for you borrow from being Unbroken. 4 WIL, 3 RES and 3 WIS.

When bound by an Oath, you are immune to divination abilities from all sources, including but not limited to foresight, farseeing, fate-reading, and destiny-seeking.

Like his Unique Path, one of its awarded Titles directly increased his Hidden Attributes: Willpower, Resilience, and Wisdom. It was a slight boost, amounting to no more than ten points, but the value of a single point couldn’t be overestimated, not to mention when they accumulated.

The secret to true power was hidden inside the unmentioned value of Hidden Attributes, which is why Kieran inherently welcomed every small gain.

And, because the title’s effects relied on him being bound, Kieran no longer felt as troubled. It didn’t explicitly state that he could break an Oath, but at least the ones responsible couldn’t keep constant tabs on him.

Kieran dismissed the title’s information, then looked at Scar and nodded.

“I appreciate your input, Scar. You’ve helped me better understand.”

Then, with a deep breath, Kieran began to recite his lines, feeling the constraint around his Realm blink into existence, becoming weighty chains that weighed it down.

His thoughts felt sluggish for a few moments, but by the end of Kieran’s recital, the weight disappeared, unable to be sensed.

You have become Oathbound.

Oath Name: Chains of Condemnation.

Kieran stared at the messages in silence briefly, then waved them away. Aside from having a name, no other description was attached to the Chains. Still, Kieran could feel their purpose, presence, and price if he focused hard enough on the edge of his Realm.

Then, if he looked even closer, he could perceive a sliver of space between the Chains and the actual edge of his Realm. As the title described… he could only be bound loosely. Kieran didn’t know what a tight binding would cause, nor did he want to learn.

He had learned so many inexplicable things that his mind needed a break to process everything. Once he had time to digest, he would search for more answers.

‘Wait a minute… on the subject of answers.’

Kieran stared at Scar with a faint grimace.

“How long were we inside Trial?”