The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2606: Cain vs Noah

Tension rose immediately as the Scarlet King and the Crimson Exarch faced one another.

It was neither spoken nor announced—but everyone present felt it. The atmosphere itself grew heavy, charged with an invisible pressure that pressed down on the battlefield like an approaching storm.

The Crimson Exarch had earned a great deal of goodwill among the troops. No one could deny that, without his strength and leadership, the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance might have already collapsed under the relentless assault of the Curse Eaters.

Yet admiration was not the same as loyalty.

When it came to that, there was no comparison.

That loyalty belonged to Cain.

He was the one who had united armies from different Empyrean Worlds. He was the one who had broken through millennia of racial prejudice and forged a single, cohesive force. He had led them into the Heart of the Root and halted the advance of the armies from the Emptiness.

He was their king.

So when Cain raised his hand and gestured for the forces of the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance to return to the Golden Hall, not a single warrior hesitated. One by one, they turned and departed, leaving the battlefield behind without question.

Only the two brothers remained.

Noah watched them go, a thoughtful gleam appearing in his crimson eyes.

"The Power of Chaos..." he murmured inwardly. "It may be harder to forge bonds with than the Power of Order—but once those bonds are formed, they are far deeper. Fascinating... truly fascinating."

He turned back to Cain, his usual calm smile resting on his lips. Yet beneath that composed exterior, there was a subtle caution now—a wariness that had not been there before.

Even more telling was the gaze of the Primarch of Conquest behind Cain, its eyes fixed on Noah with naked hostility and hunger.

"Come on, brother," Noah said lightly. "Even if you’re still upset about what happened on Origin Island, you have to admit that everything turned out well. You evolved, didn’t you? And you managed to stop the Ancient One."

His crimson eyes gleamed as he continued.

"Besides, I brought your wife into this universe and fought alongside your allies. That should be more than enough to compensate for any... inconvenience."

Cain said nothing at first.

He simply stared at Noah for several seconds, his expression unreadable. Then he took a slow breath and exhaled.

"As expected of a Master of Order," Cain said at last, his voice calm but edged with something colder. "You see everything as a transaction."

He paused briefly before nodding.

"But you’re right. What you’ve done here does more than make up for using me as a test subject."

Noah’s smile widened slightly at that.

For a moment, it seemed the tension might ease.

Then Cain’s eyes changed.

The coldness returned—sharper than before—and with it came a surge of presence that made the void tremble. The Primarch of Conquest stirred behind him, its chains rattling softly as a suffocating bloodlust spread outward.

"However," Cain continued, his voice dropping, "none of that matters to me right now."

The temperature of the battlefield seemed to fall.

"The only thing I care about... is your involvement in Anark’s death."

The moment that name was spoken, Cain’s power erupted.

Energy flared violently around him, his aura igniting like a blazing inferno. The Primarch of Conquest leaned forward slightly, as if ready to pounce at any moment.

Noah’s expression finally changed.

The smile faded.

His own energy rose in response, and a crown of platinum plasma manifested above his head, radiating authority and immense power.

"I’ll admit it," Noah said, his tone no longer playful. "You’ve grown powerful, brother. But you’re still just a Primordial—a Supreme Race."

His eyes sharpened.

"I’m an Apex Race. And you know what that means."

Cain’s gaze narrowed.

He understood.

The difference between a Supreme Race and an Apex Race went far beyond raw strength or energy reserves. Apex beings possessed the terrifying ability to access Fourth Realm techniques while still existing within the Third Realm. The Royal Blutlinie’s Ancestor Domains were a perfect example of that power.

Not every Apex could achieve it—it required extraordinary talent, insight, and mastery.

But Cain had no doubt that Noah possessed all three.

Even so, there was no fear in Cain’s heart.

Only cold fury.

The void trembled as their energies clashed, arcs of lightning crackling around them, space itself distorting under the pressure. For a moment, it seemed inevitable that battle would erupt once more.

Then—

Noah sighed.

The tension broke.

"Fine, fine," he said, waving a hand casually as his aura receded. "Relax. I’ll tell you."

Cain did not lower his guard immediately, but his energy settled as he waited.

"I knew his chances of survival were slim," Noah admitted. "But I didn’t send him to the Tenth Empyrean World. That decision was entirely his."

Cain listened carefully, using the Flow to sense the truth behind the words.

There was no deception.

Still, he spoke.

"You like to play games," Cain said coldly. "To move people like pieces on a board."

Noah nodded without hesitation, accepting the accusation.

"That’s true," he said simply. "But not in this case."

He folded his arms, his expression turning more serious.

"To be honest, I never expected Anark to evolve as much as he did after his journey into the Primordial Sanctuary. And once he reached that level... I no longer had the power to influence him."

Cain remained silent, processing the explanation.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

"And you knew him," Noah continued. "If he had the chance to eliminate the threat looming over the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe once and for all... he would take it."

He met Cain’s gaze directly.

"Even if it meant sacrificing his life."

Those words settled heavily in the air.

Cain already knew the truth.

Deep down, he had always known.

Anark had never been a pawn. He had chosen his path, just as he always had—facing impossible odds with unwavering resolve, driven by his will to protect what mattered most.

Cain exhaled slowly.

The tension in his body eased, and the Primarch of Conquest dissolved, returning to his Lucid Dream.

The target of his anger was not here.

"I’ve answered your question," Noah said after a moment. "So now it’s my turn."

His crimson eyes gleamed once more.

"How was your journey through Paradise?"

The question pulled Cain’s thoughts back, his gaze sharpening as he looked at Noah.

Even among those who had survived the Great War, Paradise remained an enigma. Its secrets were beyond reach—even the Demon King, who had once acted as its agent, had been unable to reveal its true nature.

And yet...

Here stood Noah.

Speaking of it as if it were familiar ground.

"—How do you know about Paradise?" Cain asked, unable to keep the question from slipping past his lips.

The Crimson Exarch did not answer immediately. He simply stood there, wrapped in his usual composed demeanor. Silence stretched between them—not tense, but deliberate. It was the kind of silence that forced Cain to understand that an answer, if it came at all, would not be freely given.

After a few moments, Cain exhaled softly and shrugged, letting the question drop—for now.

"It was very... bloody," he continued.

His voice was steady, but the faint tightening of his jaw betrayed the truth behind those words. He spoke of Paradise in broad strokes, describing its brutal nature, the endless slaughter, and the suffocating atmosphere of violence that defined it. However, he was careful. He did not mention his role in the massacre of the Ninth Realm, nor the battle that followed—one so devastating it had nearly torn heaven and earth apart. Those truths remained his alone.

At the same time, Cain subtly guided the conversation. He mentioned certain names, events, fragments of history—breadcrumbs scattered with purpose. He watched Noah closely, searching for any flicker of recognition, any reaction that might reveal something about the man’s past.

Noah listened quietly.

There was no shock in his expression when Cain described the bloodshed. No surprise when he spoke of the disappearance of the Depravitas or their transformation into fuel for the birth of the Blutlinie Race. It was as if everything Cain said merely confirmed what Noah already knew.

Only one detail caused a shift.

When Cain mentioned the Ancestor Tomb, Noah’s eyes sharpened almost imperceptibly.

"That happened much faster than I thought," he murmured, the words slipping out with casual ease, as though he did not care what they revealed.

Then, just as quickly, his usual smile returned.

"I suppose I’ll have to leave," he said lightly. "You’ll be on your own, brother."

"That’s fine by me," Cain replied without hesitation.

There was no attempt to hide his meaning. Fighting alongside Noah felt less like gaining an ally and more like standing next to a volatile force—one that could turn at any moment, with motives impossible to predict.

Seeing that eagerness, Noah’s smile widened slightly.

"I wouldn’t be so confident," he said. "The Tenth Empyrean World is far stronger than the Path of Freedom of the Crimson World... and you only managed to defeat them with my help."

Cain did not respond, but his gaze hardened, making his stance unmistakably clear.

Noah chuckled softly, unfazed. He lifted a hand in a casual gesture, then turned and stepped forward. His figure dissolved into the currents of the Endless River, vanishing as if he had never been there.

Yet his voice lingered, echoing one final time through the void:

"Finish things quickly, little brother... and meet me at the Tomb."

A pause.

"There, you’ll finally learn the truth about our origin."