Chapter 2280: Representatives of the two absent Empyrean Worlds
Chapter 2280: Representatives of the two absent Empyrean Worlds
Cain did not stop with Anark. Once the True Primordial of the Void was stabilized, Cain turned his attention to every ArchDeity and Prima Deity who had fought in the Invasion of the Heart of the Root.
One by one, he performed Tribulation Enhancement upon them—delicate, precise, and punishing work that pressed heavily against his wounded body and fractured soul. Even with his Samsara Runic Set and Samsara Immortal Body supporting him, the process drained him deeply. Yet he persisted. Every warrior who had stood beside him deserved restoration, and Cain would not allow the core strength of the Nine Empyren Suns Alliance to wither.
As for the Divine Tracednedn Masters who had supported the Runic War Avatars, there were simply far too many for him to heal personally. Fortunately, Tribulation Enhancement was one of the Scarlet Kingdom’s foundational professions, and hundreds of masters at the Prima Deity Tier were fully capable of guiding those cultivators back to stability. Under their oversight, the wounded would not only recover but emerge stronger, refined by the tempering of war.
Only after healing the highest pillars of the Everstrife Empyren World did Cain allow himself a moment of rest. Even then, his mind remained sharply awake, already moving to the next challenge. He sent Leonidas into the Golden Hall with a message, ensuring that the next steps in the Alliance’s recovery would begin long before Cain himself rose again. Only then did he let his body collapse into stillness for two full days.
When the exhaustion of the Tribulation Enhancement finally faded, Cain stared into the void beyond the Scarlet Crown, and a quiet sigh escaped him. He was tired—more tired than he had been willing to admit even to himself. His burdens had multiplied endlessly: apocalypses to halt, allies to reassure, enemies hidden in every shadow, and the ever-looming threat of the Root and the Tenth Empyrean World. All of it pressed against him like a cosmic weight, threatening to crush him beneath its enormity.
"How easy it would be," he thought, "to just be a warrior. To focus only on my strength, uncaring of the fate or growth of others. To destroy what stands before me, and grow with no distractions."
It was a tempting image—clean, simple, peaceful in its brutality. But fate had chosen otherwise. Whether he desired it or not, the universe rested upon his shoulders. If he faltered, the Root and the Tenth Empyrean World would rise triumphant.
Cain drew a deep breath. Bright scarlet light ignited in his eyes, burning away the fatigue. With a flash, he crossed the void, passed through the golden gate, and stepped into the Golden Hall.
Immediately, he noticed the absence of the gate leading to the Abyssalcrown Empyren World. Even the Universe Will had abandoned it. Cain could not fault the decision. The world had been swallowed entirely by the Root and sealed behind a barrier that not even a Middle Alpha Omega Overgod could breach. It was beyond salvation.
Setting those thoughts aside, Cain turned to Cipher, Zephirax, Arkam, Amara, and Uriel. They were all present—but they were not alone. Two more figures stood in the hall: Late ArchDieties, one of the Atrox Immrtus Race and the other a Godslayer Human.
It was not hard to figure out that the duo were representatives of the two Empyrean Worlds that had refused to take part in the battle against the Heart of the Root.
Their faces were composed, their posture controlled, but the arrogance beneath their expressions was impossible to hide. Part of it came from the fact that Cipher and the others radiated unstable auras, revealing how deeply wounded they were. In the minds of these newcomers, the Alliance desperately needed their help.
Cain spared the pair a glance—and dismissed them entirely. He turned instead to his own warriors.
"There is much to discuss," he said. "But first, I will heal the wounds of your bodies and souls. Let’s go."
Relief washed over the five super powerhouses. They had burned through life force, soul force, and will, and suffered immense wounds battling the High Lords of the Root. Healing was not merely important—it was essential.
From the moment they ignited their essence within the Pheonoex of Chaos, they had trusted that the Scarlet King would restore them afterward. Yet no oath had been spoken, no contract bound him. Luckily for them, Cain never reneged on an oath, even one not spoken out loud.
The two Late ArchDieties, however, could not accept being ignored. Anger flashed across their faces, and the Godslayer Human rose sharply from his seat.
"There are matters to discuss," he began, "so before you do anything—"
He never finished.
Cain’s gaze pierced him—cold, ancient, merciless. In those eyes, the Godslayer saw not a man but the distilled hatred and grief of millions of warriors who had bled while he and his world hid in safety. That emotion, that judgment, erupted into reality. A massive scarlet gate manifested behind Cain, its oppressive might flooding the chamber. The souls of everyone within trembled violently.
"Insigntit ants," Cain said, his voice low and icy. "I do not care what you have to say. If your masters want to speak, they can come themselves. Speak again—and I will devour your soul."
The chamber fell silent as the gate faded. Cain turned away without another word, leading Cipher and the others out of the Hall.
Behind him, arrogance collapsed into terror. The Atrox and the Godslayer Human shook uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the presence of the Scarlet Throne. Even wounded, Cain was terrifying beyond measure.
He paid them no further attention. If not for his injuries, he would have been tempted to rip through their defenses, read their minds, and expose the truth of their intentions. But right now, the last thing the Alliance needed was another front of conflict. His focus must remain on healing the warriors who had stood against the Heart of the Root—those who had earned his respect through sacrifice, not excuses.
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