The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2034: Request the Red King’s might... or rely on my own power?

Cain took a deep breath, forcing the chaos in his mind into order. His eyes narrowed as he began to analyze the situation with ruthless precision. He activated the System, feeding streams of data into his consciousness, while the Crown of Ascension enhanced his mental capabilities to their utmost limit. For fourteen long, grinding hours, he simulated countless scenarios. Paths opened before him, only to collapse into failure. Options branched like a web, only to end in ruin.

Again and again, he searched for a way to rescue Rylanor, Amon, and the others. Yet no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he was willing to risk, the conclusion remained the same. There was no scenario in which he could save the hostages.

Azazel and Legion’s psychic might was too vast. They could pierce illusions that concealed even Alpha-Omega Overgods. Hiding was impossible. They would keep Rylanor, Amon, and the others locked firmly within their perception. No matter the angle, no matter the stratagem, if Cain refused to surrender and chose to fight, Azazel would kill them all before he even set foot on the battlefield.

Cain clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. Frustration flooded him like molten iron. He, who had overcome countless cataclysms, now stood before an unsolvable equation. There was no path through the fog. His capabilities, sharpened though they were, fell short here.

A sensation of loss and helplessness pressed upon him, cold and suffocating. He hated it. The Archdeities wanted to fight, and truth be told, so did he. Every fiber of his heart yearned to march onto the battlefield and defeat the enemy, using their souls to grow stronger. But sacrificing his son? That, he could not do—not unless he embraced the Power of Order again. And if he surrendered himself once more to that merciless current, he feared it would never release him.

Even if he somehow endured that hollow state, the price of sacrificing his people would echo forever. The Scarlet Path was not just freedom—it was brotherhood. To stand by one’s kin, to protect one’s comrades, was the creed that bound them together. To allow his friends and family to be butchered while he fought on would scar the kingdom beyond repair.

Just as defeat threatened to smother him, a spark of memory flashed through Cain’s mind. His eyes widened.

The last time he had faced the Tenth Empyrean Sun’s apocalyptic power had been against Dark Sky. Back then, Horus and the other Depravitas had sundered his mind and will. And then... someone else had appeared.

Cain had not seen it with his own eyes—his consciousness had been consumed at the time. But later, through the recordings of the A.I. Chip carried by Aether’s soldiers, he had pieced together what had transpired.

An entity had seized control of his body and soul. Its domain over cosmic forces was terrifying. With only an Apotheosis-level cultivation base, it had displayed the might of a Peak Divine Transcendent. It had wielded the Power of Order as if it were second nature, and its wisdom, its intelligence, had overwhelmed the battlefield. Every move, every action, had seemed calculated, inevitable, unshakable.

Cain’s chest tightened as he thought of it.

"That one could fix this. That one could save them."

He had known since the end of the Dark Sky War that another dwelled within him. But he had always chosen to ignore it. Even in the face of death, even when the blade was at his throat, he had never dared to call upon that entity.

But now... now the stakes were greater than his own life.

A solemn expression settled on Cain’s face. He parted his lips to speak, to call into the abyss of his own being.

Before a word escaped, a voice resounded within his mind.

"Boy, consider carefully the words you are about to speak," the ancient voice warned, calm yet heavy with authority. "I understand your anguish. You are trapped in an impossible situation. But this... this is not the right path."

Cain froze. Apex rarely interfered in his decisions. The System Spirit might offer perspective, might share analysis, but he almost never declared a choice to be wrong, allowing Cain to make his own decision. Yet here he was, voice sharp as a blade, cutting across Cain’s intent.

"Your way of seeing the world, the way you forge bonds with others—that is your path. That is your power," Apex continued. "To rely on a being you know nothing about, whose intentions and goals you do not understand... that is folly."

The voice deepened, solemn.

"If you knock on that door, two things may happen. You may be ignored... or you may be answered. And, boy—" Apex paused, the weight of his tone like a mountain, "—I do not know which would be worse."

Cain’s eyes widened. He had expected warning, but not this. He knew Apex spoke truth. And yet without that entity’s aid, how could he save his people? How could he continue to fight?

He exhaled slowly, frustration escaping him in a ragged sigh.

"Ahhh..."

In the end, Cain withdrew his voice. He left the Scarlet Crown and drifted into the void, letting the endless currents of cosmic energy wash around him. He did not choose a destination. He simply needed time. Space. Somewhere the silence might help him think.

The question echoed inside him as he drifted:

"Request the entity’s might... or rely on my own power?"

For days, the Scarlet Kingdom lay in silence. The Scarlet King had vanished, his aura gone from the Crown, and no one could reach him. Fear spread in whispers. Some wondered if he had abandoned them. Others believed he wrestled with a choice too great for any man to bear.

Seven days passed.

Then, at last, Cain returned. His figure appeared once more in the sky above the Scarlet Crown. He said no word, issued no proclamation of intent. His gaze was unreadable, yet resolute.

And then, without preamble, he began summoning.

Waves upon waves of world energy poured into the throne room. Archdeities were summoned. Prima Deities followed. Tribulation Enhancements shook the firmament itself. For days, the process continued, the air trembling under the vast influx of power.

It did not stop until exactly one week remained before Azazel’s deadline.