The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 1985: Doomslayer Heaven

After a long journey across fractured space, Cain finally stood upon a continent unlike any he had yet encountered—a land that was little more than one vast volcanic range.

Everywhere he looked, fire and civilization intertwined. Where other continents would boast rivers of water, here only streams of molten lava flowed, glowing serpents of crimson winding between the mountains. Houses, temples, and towers were built high upon cliffsides or suspended upon terraces carved into the volcanoes themselves, elevated above the violent bursts of molten stone that erupted from the earth. The sky was veiled in grey, a canopy of ash and smoke, the air choked with heat and the iron scent of burning stone.

It was not a place where mortals could thrive. Even many cultivators would have struggled to endure such an environment. Yet life persevered, nurtured not despite the land but because of it.

Cain felt it immediately. A constant wave of radiation washing against his body, probing, trying to alter his very genome. It was subtle, slow, and almost gentle—never destructive, never crippling. Instead, it worked with patience, reshaping lifeforms across generations.

His own body, forged through countless trials, was far too strong to be altered. But for the weaker beings of this land, the radiation was a blessing.

The change gifted them with resilience, an instinctive harmony with fire. Their skin grew tougher, their blood carried the power of embers, and their cultivation paths naturally bent toward flame. For most, the only price was a faint darkening of the skin, streaks of obsidian-like markings that became almost a badge of pride. None resented the change; all were grateful.

This was the Vulkan Continent, and at its heart stood the Heaven of the oldest lifeform in the Everstrife Empyrean World: Doomslayer Heaven.

Cain’s path led him to one volcano unlike any other. Gargantuan beyond imagining, it soared so high it seemed to pierce the sky and vanish into the void above. Its flanks trembled with ceaseless eruptions, rivers of lava cascading downward like living arteries of flame.

Even Cain, whose confidence had few limits, did not allow arrogance to guide him here. He did not underestimate the being who dwelled within this mountain. Though he was the Scarlet King, though his throne devoured worlds, he was not foolish enough to believe he could easily slay the oldest Archdeity in existence. To antagonize such a man, when his true goal was to draw him into the Scarlet Path, would be reckless.

He had prepared himself to send a respectful summons into Doomslayer Heaven—yet before he could, a figure appeared before him.

The man was tall and broad, his body rippling with corded muscle. Patches of his skin had hardened into obsidian plates, as if his very flesh had fused with volcanic stone. His aura burned like a furnace, and Cain immediately recognized his level. A Peak Prima Deity.

The man bowed low, clasping his hands.

“Helaion of Doomslayer Heaven greets you, Scarlet King. My master has been expecting you.”

Cain’s eyes narrowed slightly. He had not anticipated a ready invitation, but it suited him well enough. With a small nod, he accepted.

Together, they rose, ascending the colossal volcano until they reached its peak. Within, Cain glimpsed the vast caldera, a cauldron of roiling magma so immense and so powerful that even a Prime Deity would be incinerated in an instant if they dared step into it. Yet this same magma pulsed with nourishing power; those who cultivated within its presence grew stronger, their bodies and souls tempered by its heat.

All around the inner walls of the caldera stretched a fortress-city, carved directly from volcanic stone. Houses and halls clung to the cliffsides, staircases spiraled upward, bridges crossed rivers of molten rock. The deeper they traveled, the greater the splendor became. Simple stone huts gave way to monumental palaces, structures veined with firelight, their very walls infused with flame-forged formations.

Helaion guided Cain deeper still, until at last they reached the heart of the caldera. There, in the middle of the magma, floated an island of stone. Above it shimmered countless formations of flame and seal, woven into a tapestry so dense that Cain’s instincts prickled.

“The Master will receive you there,” Helaion said, bowing once more before withdrawing.

Cain’s eyes lingered on the island. His body flickered, and he crossed the burning sea, setting foot upon the island.

The residence of Doomslayer’s master was easy to locate. A hollow mountain rose at the island’s center, and within it Cain felt an aura that dwarfed the world around it—endless and ancient.

As he advanced, Cain’s gaze caught on something strange. Statues.

They lined the pathways, dozens upon dozens, until they seemed to flood the island. From afar they could not be seen, but up close they stood like silent guardians. Some took the forms of men, others of beasts, still others depicted scenes of battle, grief, or triumph. Cain’s first instinct was caution; he wondered if they were cursed relics, perhaps petrified beings sealed in stone. But closer inspection proved otherwise.

They were sculptures. Nothing more than volcanic rock, carved with impossible skill. Yet each one radiated the faint shimmer of Concept. They were not simple art. They were embodiments of thought, fragments of understanding crystallized in stone.

Cain’s eyes gleamed with recognition. The oldest Archdeity was not merely strong—he was a master of the Ego Eternal Path of Power.

The Scarlet King paused only briefly before continuing his approach.

At last, he stood before the hollow mountain. An oppressive wave of radiation struck him, an aura so vast it weighed down the very marrow of his bones.

A voice thundered from within.

“Don’t be shy. Come in.”

It was a voice weathered by ages, yet still unbroken, carrying the weight of eternity.

Cain paused for a moment, extending his psychic senses—but even they could not pierce the cave’s veil. The formations within were too dense, too high-level. Finally, his eyes sharpened. He stepped forward, entering the mountain.

What he found made his expression grow somber.

The hollow interior was not a throne hall, nor a palace. It was a prison. The mountain’s core was shaped like a massive box, a chamber bound on every side by countless formations. Sigils burned in endless layers across the stone, each one coiled and ready to awaken.

Cain’s instincts whispered the truth. If triggered, these seals could hold even him.

“Even if I unleashed the full might of my cultivation, I could not escape before the formations activated. This place could imprison even me.”

His gaze lifted as a shadow moved. A figure began to walk toward him, each step echoing with the pressure of ages.

Cain’s face grew solemn as he prepared to meet the oldest Archdeity of the Everstreif Empyrean World.

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Chapter: 20/14 (+6 – Power Stone Bonus)

Current schedule: 14 chapters a week.

Bonus chapters:

Over 400 power stones: 3 extra chapters.

Over 600 power stones: 6 extra chapters.

Over 800 power stones: 9 extra chapters.