Chapter 1934: Not equals
Chapter 1934: Not equals
Cain wasn’t the type to posture for its own sake or to make life harder for those weaker than him. But sometimes clarity demanded spectacle. A single, undeniable demonstration prevented the kind of dithering—tests, delays, petty provocations—that turned diplomacy into a slow death by a thousand cuts.
So he let his power breathe.
For several long heartbeats, the air around him thickened into a pressure that could have crushed mountains. The sky shivered. The blood tornado at Borealis’ heart heaved as if a giant hand had stirred it. Red light gathered in Cain’s eyes—cold, sovereign, unblinking—and the world seemed to understand what stood before it.
Then he drew it all back.
The weight lifted. The wind moved again. Aurelius, Amelia, and Alondra finally exhaled as if they had been drowning just beneath the surface. They had approached to greet him and judge his intent as commanded by Divine Sea, but it took a moment before their minds, dazzled by those scarlet eyes, could put words in order.
Aurelius found his voice first. He was the oldest of the three and the steadiest.
"Mighty Scarlet King," he said, bowing at the waist, "my lady welcomes you to her domain. However... she wonders what brings you to her home... unannounced."
There was a careful tremor on "unannounced." Not defiance—prudence. He feared provoking Cain, and rightly so.
Cain smiled. It wasn’t sharp nor mocking. It was the disarming ease of someone who did not need to be angry to get what he wanted.
"I apologize for my lack of ceremony for failing to announce my arrival," he replied. "But as her new neighbor, it felt proper to visit Divine Sea Heaven in person—and to address a few matters diplomatically. Better to clear the board now and build a proper, lasting peace than to trip over small things later."
All three relaxed at once. There was no world in which Cain needed to lie about intent. If he wanted a war, he could have declared it and used the Omega War’s skirmishes as a simple, ironclad pretext.
They received a mental pulse and their postures straightened with practiced grace.
"Our lady invites you to her residence, Scarlet King," Aurelius said with renewed confidence. He turned toward the tornado of blood. "Allow me to open—"
"No need."
The Star of Origin in Cain’s brow shimmered. His molecular matrix thrummed at such speed and coherence that his body seemed to slip out of existence altogether as he moved through the blood tornado. Space bent, scarlet bled across his vision, and then—silence. He was there.
A floating city spread out beneath him in tiers of pearl and coral stone, platforms stitched together by luminous bridges, towers veined with living water that flowed upward. It was a marvel—capable of housing hundreds of millions—yet Cain sensed only tens of thousands within.
Unlike the Eternal Kingdom of the Crimson World, there was little advantage to packing a Heaven with average cultivators, so Divine Sea had chosen quality over quantity, and it showed. Every ward tasted of patience. Every plaza hummed with intention.
Aurelius and the two women arrived seconds later. Their gazes flicked to Cain with wonder. The Primordial Blood Tornado was a fortress as much as a phenomenon; it hid, warded, and warned, and even an Archdeity would feel its teeth if they attempted to push through it. However, the Scarlet King had cut through it like mist. His dominion over space was overwhelming.
"Thank you for the guidance," Cain said without turning. His eyes had already pinned the strongest aura in the city. "You won’t be needed further."
That was the last thing they heard before the Scarlet King sliced forward through the air toward Divine Sea’s residence. They didn’t try to stop him as Divine Sea had already called him. Besides, even if they wanted to stop him, they could not.
The path to her sanctum was lined with powerful barriers, layered intricately as one would expect for the dwelling of an Archdiety. Each ward shimmered faintly, its runes ready to erupt in divine wrath against intruders. Yet as Cain approached, they yielded without resistance, parting like silk before a master’s hand.
Two massive gates of crimson crystal, designed like fortress doors but etched with flowing wave motifs, swung open on their own, revealing a vast open garden within.
Cain stepped inside.
The air here was rich with life essence. Terraced platforms descended in graceful curves, each bed cultivated with rare plants—many of them treasures that sects would wage wars to obtain.
And yet here, these priceless wonders were used simply for beauty.
At the heart of the garden knelt a woman, her long hair spilling like ink over a red robe. She was tending to a bed of crimson lilies whose petals shimmered with a light that was neither sun nor flame. There was a faint, serene smile on her face as she worked.
"This is a small hobby of mine," Divine Sea said without looking up. "Tending to these plants, watching them grow in peace and harmony—it is... relaxing."
Cain gave a small nod. They both knew that their power could make entire worlds tremble, but such power came with constant vigilance. The higher one climbed, the fewer moments of genuine rest existed.
She rose slowly, her smile fading, her gaze sharpening into solemnity. "You say you have come to speak of diplomacy—to walk a path of peace and prosperity." She let the words hang for a heartbeat before continuing. "That is easily achieved. You remain within your domain, and I will remain within mine."
Cain’s eyes narrowed slightly. Her meaning was clear: she wanted no deeper dealings, no entanglement, no alliance—merely a polite wall between them. That was not unreasonable. The older a being became, the harder it was to alter the worldview that had carried them to the peak.
"Those," Cain said after a pause, "are indeed very good terms." His voice was calm, but his eyes began to glow faintly with scarlet flame. The Power of Conquest stirred within him, subtle yet undeniable, bleeding into the air between them. "Of course... that would be true if we were equals in strength, which we are not."
Divine Sea’s hands curled into fists. The power of her Inner Universe began to circulate, a quiet surge of pressure that bent the light in the garden. She had heard the threat buried in his words—and she was prepared to answer it.