The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2393: The death of the Scarlet King (VI)

Anark, Amara, Cipher, Zephirax, Arkam, and Bael stood within the grand chamber of the Golden Hall, joined by Leonidas, Amon, and Uriel. The vast space, once a symbol of unity and triumph, now felt heavy and suffocating.

The moment Cain had been taken away, Anark had not wasted a single second. He immediately raised the forces of the Scarlet Kingdom to the highest level of alert, mobilizing fleets and legions before marching straight to the Golden Hall to deliver the news to the great generals of the Nine Empyrean Sun Alliance.

The shock had rippled through every Empyrean World under their banner.

Without their strongest warrior—without the Scarlet King—the Alliance fell into a state of emergency. Preparations began at once. Troops were mobilized, defensive formations reinforced, and contingency plans enacted.

No one knew what kind of hidden danger might strike next, and without Cain’s presence, even a minor miscalculation could lead to catastrophe. After all, he was the only one able to break the Wall of Fire and Flesh and face the Monster of the Root.

Several days passed in relentless activity before the leaders were finally able to gather and analyze their next move.

Each of them wore a solemn expression. The weight pressing down on their shoulders was overwhelming—the same crushing responsibility Cain had carried every day while leading the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance. Only now did the super powerhouses of the Six Sacred Races truly understand how naïve they had been when they once contested his leadership.

To realize that a single decision could condemn billions of lives, entire worlds erased with one wrong choice, was a nightmare beyond measure. And yet Cain had always made it seem effortless.

But there was no time to dwell on the past.

"We have used every means and tool at our disposal," Arkam spoke, his voice calm and analytical despite the tension. "It is certain that the Scarlet King is not within any of our Empyrean Worlds, nor in the void surrounding them."

The others nodded in agreement.

"Could he be in the Empyrean Worlds of those traitors?" Uriel asked, cold disgust flashing through his eyes as he spoke the words.

Leonidas shook his head immediately. "The Power of Chaos allows the Scarlet King to maintain a connection across entire Empyrean Worlds. If he were in one of those realms, even if direct communication were impossible, we would still be able to sense his presence."

"Even so," Bael growled, his voice filled with barely restrained hatred, "we should march into those Empyrean Worlds. Markin, Kaizer, and everyone connected to them must be erased."

The killing intent in his voice was unmistakable. Despite the brutality of his words, many of the superpowers of the Six Sacred Races and the Knights of the Scarlet Throne nodded. They were ready to follow that blood-soaked path.

"We will not."

A powerful, cold voice cut through the chamber like ice water poured over burning embers.

All eyes turned toward Anark. While none dared question his authority outright, displeasure was clear on several faces.

Anark exhaled slowly. "Marching into those worlds could very well be a trap. The strongest among us is missing, and we cannot afford to expose further weaknesses."

The warriors clenched their fists, frustration evident, but they could not deny the truth of his words.

Taking a deep breath, Anark continued. "The fact that Leonidas, Amon, and Bael are still with us after so many days indicates that the Scarlet Throne has not been destroyed."

For an instant, cold tension gave way to faint smiles.

But they faded just as quickly.

"However," Anark added, his tone sharpening, "Cain is extraordinarily wise and calculating. He could have arranged for the Throne to survive even after his death."

Leonidas opened his mouth to object—but no words came out.

He wanted to deny it. Desperately. But he knew it was possible.

"I don’t like this conclusion," Anark said quietly, "but this is war. There is no room for emotion. We will continue searching for Cain and determine where that man took him. But when it comes to our war plans..."

His voice hardened, finality echoing through the chamber.

"...the Scarlet King is dead."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"We cannot count on him returning to save us," Anark concluded. "We are alone."

Silence reigned. One by one, they nodded.

Hope and miracles could not be factored into strategy. Even if they believed Cain might return, they could not build their plans around that belief. From this moment on, they could rely only on themselves.

---

Deep within the decayed and corrupted World of the Root, three figures stood in silence.

Robuke and Radagon gazed upon a pulsing golden orb, awe and reverence reflected in their eyes. The object radiated immense power—its surface alive with countless halos of plasma, each carrying the essence of the Root itself. It had been forged using the very will and essence of the Abyssalcrown Empyrean World.

"Your transmutation abilities never fail to amaze me, Mikela," Robuke said, a fierce grin spreading across his monstrous face.

He turned toward the entity beside him—a being wearing a bone mask covered in countless eyes and fingers. She was the companion who had crossed the Emptiness alongside him to enter this universe.

Mikela’s eyes glowed with excitement. "This will be the key to our triumph," she said. "With this, we will no longer be forced to hide and wait. We will expand freely, and soon, this entire universe will become one with the Root."

She paused.

The light in her eyes grew cold.

"However," Mikela continued softly, "there is one final ingredient missing."

Robuke’s eyes narrowed. His grin widened.

Without warning, he seized Radagon by the neck.

Shock and horror twisted across Radagon’s face. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, Robuke hurled him forward, plunging him into the golden orb.

"ARGHHHHHHH!"

A scream of pure agony echoed throughout the World of the Root as Radagon’s body and essence were dismantled, assimilated into the pulsing orb.

The golden orb flared violently—its light intensifying as the Root claimed another sacrifice.

---

End of Book 24 - If you come at the king, you best not miss.