The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 1963: The majesty of life and death

While they were excited, the trio did not lose focus, for now came the true challenge. The list of trials would appear, and they expected to see what it demanded of a Tribulation Enhancer.

Or so they thought. What the voice spoke was something entirely different.

"In order to pass the Diastole Gate, generate a phenomenon that can evoke the majesty of life and death at their greatest level, and inject it into the gate."

Cain, Amon, and Bael could not help but glance at each other, their expressions solemn as the words sank in. This fifth trial was unlike the previous ones. It offered no range of fields to select from, no variety of choices. Instead, it demanded a single thing: comprehension of life and death.

At first, the requirement sounded deceptively simple. For beings of their level, surely they should have at least some grasp of such forces. Yet in truth, to evoke a phenomenon that embodied the ultimate essence of life and death was something that even Alpha–Omega Overgods might fail to truly comprehend.

The voice continued bringing their minds back to reality.

"If the phenomenon you forge reaches the threshold, the gate will open. The greater the might of your phenomenon, the greater the reward."

Then the voice faded, leaving only silence. The Diastole Gate began to glow faintly, pulsing as though waiting for Bael to forge the phenomenon that would embody the majestic balance of life and death.

Bael looked toward his companions, but Cain and Amon only shook their heads. They had no way to assist him. If they interfered, they had no doubt the Diastole Gate, being such a high-level treasure, would detect it immediately and disqualify him on the spot.

Bael sighed quietly, then his eyes sharpened with determination. Though this trial was unlike any other, he was not unprepared. His long years had given him experience. He had trained the powers of life, spending millions of years in close contact with its essence, thanks to the Finger of Life. As for death, it was a more difficult path, but his countless battles with his brother had taught him fragments of its truth.

He sat down cross-legged, closing his eyes, and entered meditation.

Minutes stretched into hours, hours into days, and days into weeks as the Inferno Daemon remained seated, motionless, immersed in his effort. Cain and Amon waited in silence, neither disturbing him. Both took the opportunity to meditate as well, knowing that if Bael failed, the trial would pass to them.

At last, after two full months, Bael opened his eyes. He raised his hand slowly, and power began to surge.

From his palm emerged a small, radiant bird woven of golden energy. Its wings beat softly, each movement carrying an aura that spoke of vitality and renewal. The bird embodied the essence of life—its movements fluid, its song resonant, its very presence brimming with otherworldly vibrance. Watching it, one could feel the beauty of existence itself, fragile yet eternal.

But as the bird continued to fly, its golden wings gradually slowed. Its movements weakened until, at last, it ceased entirely and perished. Yet in that death was no end, for soon another golden bird arose from the remains, beginning the cycle anew.

Cain watched, impressed. The manifestation truly reflected Bael’s mastery of life. Yet when the moment came for the bird to embody death, Cain felt it lacked depth. What Bael presented was not the true essence of death, but rather a simple absence of life. The distinction was subtle but critical.

Bael gazed at the golden bird one last time before allowing it to merge into the Diastole Gate. For a moment the gate glowed, hope flickering in the trio’s hearts—but then it dimmed and shut down.

"Failure," the ancient voice declared, echoing across the surroundings.

Bael sighed and rose from the ground, his expression heavy as he stepped back.

Then Amon advanced. The Godslayer Human opened his hand, and a new phenomenon began to take shape.

In his palm, a mighty tree rose, vibrant and filled with life. Its branches stretched outward, laden with leaves of shimmering emerald. The aura it released was one of abundance, a forest condensed into a single form, exuding energy that nourished all around it.

But as the onlookers watched, death began to creep in. The leaves withered, branches sagged, and the trunk darkened as rot spread through its core. Soon the tree withered entirely, collapsing into lifeless dust.

Yet from the dust fell seeds, and from one seed sprouted a new sapling. Slowly it grew into another tree, strong and vigorous, until again the cycle of death overtook it. The phenomenon repeated endlessly, life and death intertwined, each giving birth to the other.

Cain could not hide his marvel. The phenomenon Amon forged captured the essence of death more vividly than Bael’s attempt. Here, death was not merely the absence of life—it was a force of transformation, a catalyst for rebirth. Yet, as Cain observed more closely, he saw the weakness in Amon’s creation: the life it portrayed, though vibrant, lacked the fullness and nuance needed to balance the majesty of death.

Amon sent the tree into the Diastole Gate. For a moment the gate glowed more brightly than it had with Bael’s bird. But then, once more, it dimmed and faded.

"Failure," the ancient voice intoned again.

Amon sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and stepped back to stand beside Bael. The two brothers glanced at Cain, their eyes carrying little hope.

Cain was indeed a monster, his power and abilities unmatched in the Everstrife Empyrean World since the First Era. But he was not known as a master of life and death, at least not beyond the level his brothers had already displayed.

"It is fine if the journey ends here," Bael said quietly.

"That’s right," Amon agreed. "We have already gained more than enough. We will return in victory."

Cain smiled faintly at their words, comforted by their loyalty. He nodded, then stepped forward to stand before the Diastole Gate.

Lifting his hand, Cain began to forge his phenomenon.

At first, it was only a seed—small, simple, unremarkable. But from the seed burst forth a blazing star, radiant with boundless life. The star shone brilliantly, casting its light across all directions. Yet as time passed, the star aged. It swelled, trembling as its core burned out, and then exploded in a violent supernova.

From the ashes of its destruction spread cosmic dust, and within that dust, new seeds formed. One of them ignited, birthing a new star. Once again, the cycle began: life blazing forth, death in the collapse, rebirth from the remains.

The brothers could not help but nod in admiration. Cain’s phenomenon was truly impressive. Especially given that he was not a true master of life and death—his path lay elsewhere, with the Concept of Life only a strand within his greater Path of Conquest.

Cain studied his phenomenon. It was powerful, yes, but he knew it was not enough. It equaled the attempts of the brothers but went no further. If he injected it into the gate, it would surely end in failure.

He prepared to withdraw, ready to resign himself—when suddenly, a meaningful light appeared in his eyes.