The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 1981: Juda’s past

There was coldness in the eyes of Cain and Azazel as they regarded one another. Neither spoke, yet the silence between them throbbed with pure killing intent. Their power had risen over the years, but still neither could claim a decisive edge. If anything, their mutual growth and the development of their regenerating abilities had only clarified the truth: there would be no easy victor.

Even should one of them manage to end the other’s life, it would be through extreme sacrifice, leaving wounds so grievous that survival afterward would be unlikely. A single misstep, a single lapse into coma or weakness, would be fatal in a world like the Everstreif Empyrean. Without a loyal force to guard their broken body, nothing would stop the other superpowers from seizing the opportunity to strike them down.

Cain knew this well. He had much yet to live for—Azazel’s fall would only be the beginning. Beyond that threat lay the vast responsibility of facing the Tenth Empyrean World. There was a lot to do, and he did not have the luxury of perishing before that.

As for Azazel, he was ready to give his life for the mission entrusted if that was what it took. Yet even he, with all his devotion to his master, if there was a path in which he could fulfill his goal and survive, he would take it.

Finally, their twin auras began to recede entirely, the lethal pressure dispersing into the ether. Energy that had moments ago threatened to shatter the ground now streamed more calmly around their bodies. It was clear to both that this duel would end without a winner.

Azazel’s eyes lingered on Cain for a few breaths longer before shifting toward Amon and Bael. His lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile.

"It seems you have gathered some loyal followers. Good boys, no doubt. But if they wish to deceive a being like me—one who has lived hundreds of lifetimes more than they—they will have to do more than simply believe their own lies."

The words struck like a blade. Amon and Bael frowned deeply, the sting of failure obvious in their expressions. Their purpose in appearing alone had been simple: to pry information from Azazel’s trio, perhaps lure him into some slip of the tongue, some hint of strategy or weakness. Yet their ploy had failed. The True Depravita had seen past their lies and forced Cain to appear.

Cain’s gaze sharpened at Azazel’s words. Though it was disappointing that his subordinates had gleaned little, he could not fault them; deceiving Azazel was never going to be an easy task. He shifted his focus past his true enemy, landing on the figures of Gilgamesh and Juda, who lingered in the shadows of the gathering.

Cain had already heard much of them—and none of it good.

Gilgamesh, the Atrox, was whispered of across the Everstreif Empyrean as a monstrous, depraved fiend. Cain was no stranger to bloodshed himself. To kill enemies and devour their essence was, in his eyes, a natural path to strength. Such things he could respect.

But Gilgamesh was hated not for the battlefield, but for his pleasures. He delighted in games with mortals—forcing them to slaughter one another, to debase themselves, to claw at survival while he watched and laughed. He took especial joy in the torment of children, relishing their despair as one might savor rare wine. There was no logic to this cruelty, no tactical gain; it was simply his amusement. None dared oppose him—not for the sake of a few broken mortals. None, until the Scarlet Path appeared.

As for Juda, the Godslayer Human, his reputation was the very opposite. He was often spoken of as decent, even noble. His domains were peace, prosperity, and order. Under his rule, people thrived in relative stability. Yet despite this benevolent mask, Cain despised him above all others.

That was why, when given the chance, Juda was the one he had once attempted to kill by shattering the back of his skull.

Cain’s voice cut through the thick air, sharp and venomous.

"The ones who follow you are powerful, I admit. But they are still garbage—garbage that will shatter all loyalty when death looms over them."

He did not bother to conceal his disdain. His sneer deepened as his gaze locked on Juda.

"Especially that one."

Juda’s devilishly handsome face twitched at the insult. The mask of composure cracked, if only for an instant. He had worked tirelessly to cultivate his persona—so righteous, so trustworthy that even his enemies begrudgingly respected him. Yet Cain, with a few scornful words, had stripped the facade bare, comparing him unfavorably even to the fiendish Gilgamesh.

Azazel stood silent, his expression unreadable. And under his unblinking gaze, Juda forced himself to gather courage. A proud light flared in his eyes as he answered, his voice smooth, laced with elegance—and more than a touch of narcissism.

"You and I have never spoken, Cain. Your accusations are the spawn of rumor, not truth. If you are so foolish as to treat whispers as fact, then your reign will be short indeed. A ruler without discernment is a corpse waiting to fall."

Cain regarded him for a long moment, expression unmoving. Then, slowly, he shook his head.

"You truly have a way with words. But words will not save you. I trust my friends."

A cold smile spread across his lips, cruel and sharp.

"In fact, I am grateful Azazel saved your life. For I am certain the Sky Sovereign will be delighted to rip your heart from your chest with his own hands."

At those words, a dangerous gleam flickered in the eyes of Amon and Bael. Their glances met, unspoken understanding sparking between them.

Everyone in the Everstrife Empyrean knew the legend of the Sky Sovereign. He was the right hand of the Scarlet King, often the vanguard leading his armies across campaigns in the continents, spreading the Scarlet Path. His resurrection had already shocked the world. Yet his death remained clouded in mystery. Some whispered he had fallen in battle; others murmured of betrayal by a trusted ally.

Until now, these were only rumors. But Cain’s words, laced with venom and certainty, clarified the matter beyond denial.

The one who had betrayed the Sky Sovereign...was Juda.

The very ArchDeity who paraded righteousness, who cultivated the face of trust and amity, who acted the most loyal and noble of allies, was someone who would stab a friend in the back just for wealth.