The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2096: Into the Red King’s Sacred Dimension (II)

A powerful force moved silently across the skies of the Third Realm’s landmass. Their collective energy was so immense that any one of them could have illuminated a cluster of small worlds for millennia, their radiance banishing darkness wherever it touched. Yet despite that unfathomable strength, they released not even the faintest trace of power.

At their head floated a small, deceptively delicate figure—Tiramisu, the True Depravita of Primal Fury. Her presence cloaked the group in a shroud of concealment so absolute that even the keenest divine senses could not detect them.

Cain and the others maintained deep, steady breaths as they flew. Each one of them understood the weight of what awaited beyond the horizon. The chance that all would return alive was slim. One slip, one lapse in focus, and their story would end before it truly began.

They crossed endless kilometers of silent sky before it appeared.

Before them stretched a landscape torn from nightmare—the Red Forest.

It was a world of crimson crystal, where light and death intertwined in maddening beauty. Jagged spires jutted from the ground like the bones of a shattered planet, their edges glowing with molten radiance that bathed everything in a perpetual infernal hue. The air itself seemed alive, humming with an eerie resonance.

At the heart of this scarlet expanse loomed an impossible edifice: a colossal crystalline cathedral of interlocking prisms that pulsed like a living organ. It was both structure and being—a cathedral of red glass, eternally alive, eternally watching.

The ground beneath their feet was slick and reflective, mirroring the fractured sky above. Storm clouds burned crimson, sealing the forest in an eternal twilight that neither dawn nor dusk could pierce.

The Red Forest had long been a legend, a place whispered of in fear. None who entered the massive crystalline structure at its center had ever returned—or so the stories claimed. But one among them was proof that legend could lie.

The Enlightened One.

"According to the Demon King’s records," Tiramisu said quietly, her voice reverberating across the minds of the group, "one may enter the Heart of the Red Forest only when a convergence of cosmic vibrations occurs. That moment opens the gate into the Sacred Realm. Enter at any other time, and you are lost forever."

Her eyes turned toward the Enlightened One for confirmation.

He nodded. "That is correct. The first time I entered was by accident—while fleeing an enemy during the Great War. I stumbled upon the convergence and survived only by luck. When I emerged, I spent millions of years studying the Red Forest’s rhythm—its frequencies, its pulse—until I learned when it would open safely again."

Cain and the others nodded solemnly.

They stopped at the edge of the Red Forest’s heart, each scanning the horizon. Their senses stretched outward, searching for any trace of Braldy, the Alpha–Omega Neo-Angel, and his group, but found nothing. The forest’s scale was monstrous, stretching beyond sight. For all they knew, the enemy could be gathered on the opposite side, preparing their own entry.

It was pointless to search. If they moved carelessly, they could expose themselves. Better to wait.

The group descended into stillness, each member sitting in silent meditation, conserving strength for the ordeal to come. The true battle would unfold not here, but within the Sacred Realm itself. Until that moment, discipline was survival.

Minutes turned to hours. The world grew unnervingly quiet.

Then—

Cain, Meylin, and the Enlightened One opened their eyes simultaneously. Their divine senses rippled outward, drawn toward the Heart of the Red Forest. The others soon followed, attuning their souls to the same signal. The air trembled with unseen power.

Tiramisu rose, her cloak billowing with restrained fury. "Remember the plan," she said softly, her voice like thunder wrapped in silk. "And good luck."

No further words were needed. Every detail of their operation had already been decided.

The True Depravita of Primal Fury blurred forward, her figure vanishing into the crimson haze. One by one, the others followed. Cain was among the last to move, his gaze locking with Meylin’s for an instant before both dove into the light.

For a heartbeat, everything vanished.

The world collapsed into absolute darkness.

Then color returned—first faint crimson, then molten gold, rippling through the void like molten rivers. Cain felt as though he were floating in the heart of a dying star. His instincts screamed as gravity shifted in impossible ways.

What appeared before him left him momentarily speechless.

It was a black hole, vast beyond comprehension, its event horizon blazing with threads of red and gold. Energy roared around it—raw, divine, infinite. The power emanating from it carried the essence of the Flow itself.

Around the cosmic vortex, tendrils of black and scarlet coiled like living shadows, weaving patterns of chaos that stretched into eternity. Each pulse of its rotation carried the weight of creation and annihilation alike.

Cain’s body began to tremble as a primal instinct took hold. The black hole was pulling him in. Its gravity clawed at his essence, dragging him toward oblivion. He knew instantly that if he crossed the event horizon, even his True Name would be erased. There would be no rebirth, no memory—only dissolution.

But just as panic crept into his veins, it happened.

The black hole shuddered.

Its surface rippled, then split open like a vast eye awakening after eons of slumber. What had moments ago been the maw of death transformed into a gateway, a spiraling tunnel of light and shadow leading into the unknown.

Cain exhaled sharply, forcing his heartbeat to steady. His eyes glowed with golden fire, cold and resolute. Without hesitation, he shot forward—straight into the darkness.

The world disappeared.

For an instant, he knew nothing but pressure and motion, his body hurled through dimensions. Then came impact.

"BOOM!"

He struck solid ground hard enough to send cracks racing outward. Pain blossomed through his limbs, but he quickly steadied himself and rose.

He was standing in a vast corridor, its floor made of polished white stone that shimmered faintly like liquid marble. The ceiling above was open to the void, an endless expanse of swirling red mist.

And there, looming high in the sky, stood a colossal stone statue.

Cain’s eyes widened. He recognized it instantly—it was identical to the figure described in the Enlightened One’s soul vision.

"The Red King," Cain whispered.

The statue radiated majesty and dread in equal measure. The sheer presence of it sent a shiver through his soul, and just as his soul was about to adapt to the pressure, it happened.

"CRACK!"

The sound echoed through the chamber and Cain froze.

Hairline fractures spread slowly across the statue’s surface, glowing faintly with red light.