The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2242: Facing the Heart of the Root once more

The Golden Hall grew increasingly restless as the days passed. Third-Realm masters from all six Empyrean Worlds began spending more and more time within its radiant chambers.

At first, their presence was merely a matter of obedience—following the command of their leaders and familiarizing themselves with what was meant to become their ultimate stronghold. But as they trained, meditated, and opened their senses to the currents surrounding them, they gradually realized the true nature of this place.

The Golden Hall was not merely a fortress. It was a sanctuary constructed from the raw essence of the universe itself. Here, the cosmic forces harmonize with the cultivators’ souls, making it very easy to train.

It made sense, of course. The will of the universe itself had shaped the Hall.

It did not take long before hundreds of Prima Deities began drifting through the Hall’s many chambers. Naturally, racial tensions simmered at times, yet every dispute died before reaching true conflict.

The reason was simple: the ArchDeities of the Scarlet Kingdom were always present. Their vigilance never waned. Their judgment was absolute and impartial. To them, race meant nothing. Only unity, discipline, and the avoidance of pointless conflict mattered.

This day began like any other. Quiet murmurs, flowing energy, sparks of cultivation. But everything changed the moment a vast, overwhelming aura flooded the Golden Hall, sweeping through its expanses like a tidal wave.

Heads snapped upward. Conversations died. Powerhouses from every world turned toward the same point, eyes narrowing in awe or confusion.

A figure stepped into view.

A man with snow-white hair, deep violet eyes, and eight arms that moved with the calm fluidity of a cosmic tide. Many were seeing him for the first time, but his reputation had reached them long before this moment.

He was not the leader of an Empyrean World, yet he was considered by many to be the strongest living being within the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe. He was the one who could channel the Universe Matrix itself and bring down a High Lord of the Root with a single blow.

Anark, True Primordial of the Void.

Once he was certain that every gaze rested upon him, his eyes sharpened, and he spoke two simple words. "Follow me."

The next second, he vanished.

A heartbeat later, he reappeared in the dark expanse of the void outside the Hall, and every warrior instinctively tensed. Other than the Golden Hall, only one thing existed in this section of the void.

The Heart of the Root.

For a brief moment, those from the other Empyrean Worlds hesitated, uncertainty flickering across their faces. But the Third-Realm masters of the Scarlet Kingdom showed no such doubt. Without a moment’s delay, they stepped into the void behind Anark. He held no formal rank within their hierarchy, but everyone knew he was Cain’s right hand—and his role in the war against the Imperium of Time remained legendary.

Anark inclined his head slightly toward the warriors of the Scarlet Kingdom as he sensed their conviction. Then he turned his gaze toward the Hall, where the others still lingered. His expression darkened. A cold, ancient aura—one that seemed to echo from the dawn of creation itself—swelled outward.

The Third-Realm masters from the other five Empyrean Worlds shuddered. It felt as if the eyes of a primordial apex predator had settled upon them. None dared to defy that gaze. One by one, they emerged into the void, joining the others in a loose semicircle around the True Primordial.

Anark studied them briefly before turning his attention toward the distant, world-sized tumor of flesh and eyes that pulsed softly in the dark.

His voice, when he spoke, was cold, sharp, and unwavering. "I assume that most of you have already watched the battle that took place when the Heart of the Root first appeared."

A shadow of dread crossed many faces. Cipher and the others had shared those memories freely, and even second-hand, they had been terrifying.

"It is good that you understand the danger," Anark continued, "but seeing a shadow of the truth is not enough. You must witness it with your own eyes."

Shock rippled through the crowd. Several instinctively stepped backward. If Anark had summoned them here in order to march directly into the Heart of the Root, then none of them were willing to take that step without their leaders present.

Sensing their fear, Anark merely shook his head.

"I will not make you fight." He turned his gaze upon them; his disappointment was almost palpable. "If you lack the will to stake your life, then there would be no point in fighting anyway."

The powerhouses lowered their eyes. His words were not cruel; they were simply true. Against an enemy of such horrifying nature, hesitation was equivalent to death—and hesitation still lingered in their hearts.

"I will go alone," Anark’s voice was calm and concise, showing no doubt at all. "You will simply watch. Engrave what you witness into your minds, so you may understand the type of threat we face."

Without waiting for a response, he shot forward, body wrapped in a rising tide of cosmic power. As he neared the Heart of the Root, the Matrix of the Universe manifested in a vast cascade of light across the void.

It formed both shield and sword—ready to consume any spawn of the Root he destroyed. The World Strength of the universe poured into him, feeding the seventh Stars of Origin until they shone once more like miniature suns orbiting his form.

The moment he crossed into the outer boundary of the colossal growth, the Heart of the Root trembled. Thousands upon thousands of abominations burst from its surface—limbs twisting, eyes blinking in irregular patterns, tendrils snapping as they hurled themselves toward him. There was no strategy behind their movement, no intelligence guiding them. It was instinct, pure and mindless, like a diseased reflex reacting to the presence of a threat.

Anark’s eyes held no emotion as he entered the swarm.

Every punch shattered dozens of abominations. Every kick tore through clusters of flesh and bone. Each motion was perfect efficiency, destruction shaped into elegance. And with every creature that dissolved into the Matrix of the Universe, pure Primal Origin Energy flowed into his body, strengthening him further.