The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2280 Representatives of the two absent Empyrean Worlds

Cain’s work did not conclude with Anark. Once the True Primordial of the Void reached stability, Cain shifted his focus toward every ArchDeity and Prima Deity who had participated in the Invasion of the Heart of the Root.

One by one, he performed Tribulation Enhancement upon them—a meticulous, exacting, and grueling task that weighed heavily upon his battered physique and splintered soul. Despite the support of his Samsara Runic Set and Samsara Immortal Body, the procedure drained his reserves profoundly. Nevertheless, he forged ahead. Every combatant who had fought by his side earned the right to be restored, and Cain refused to let the foundation of the Nine Empyren Suns Alliance crumble.

As for the Divine Transcendent Masters who had bolstered the Runic War Avatars, their numbers were simply too great for him to treat individually. Fortunately, Tribulation Enhancement stood as a pillar of the Scarlet Kingdom's professions; hundreds of masters at the Prima Deity Tier possessed the expertise to guide those cultivators back to a stable state. Under their supervision, the injured would not merely mend but would rise more powerful, tempered by the fires of conflict.

Cain allowed himself a brief respite only after he had healed the primary pillars of the Everstrife Empyren World. Even then, his consciousness remained alert, already calculating the next move. He dispatched Leonidas into the Golden Hall with a set of instructions, ensuring the Alliance's recovery efforts would commence long before he himself awoke. Only after securing these details did he permit his body to sink into a deep stillness for two full days.

When the fatigue from the Tribulation Enhancement finally ebbed, Cain gazed into the emptiness beyond the Scarlet Crown, letting out a soft sigh. He was exhausted—more so than he had dared to acknowledge. His responsibilities had grown exponentially: apocalypses to avert, allies to comfort, foes lurking in every shadow, and the persistent menace of the Root and the Tenth Empyrean World. The collective weight pressed against him like a celestial burden, threatening to overwhelm him with its scale.

"How simple it would be," he mused, "to exist solely as a warrior. To concentrate only on my personal Cultivation, indifferent to the destiny or advancement of others. To obliterate whatever stands in my path and grow without interference."

It was an alluring vision—straightforward, uncomplicated, and peaceful in its own violent way. However, destiny had decreed a different path. Whether he welcomed the burden or not, the fate of the universe rested upon his shoulders. Should he stumble, the Root and the Tenth Empyrean World would surely claim victory.

Cain inhaled deeply. A vibrant scarlet glow ignited within his eyes, incinerating his weariness. With a sudden movement, he traversed the void, crossed the golden threshold, and entered the Golden Hall.

He immediately noted the disappearance of the portal leading to the Abyssalcrown Empyren World. Even the Universe Will had forsaken it. Cain could not blame the choice. That world had been entirely consumed by the Root and imprisoned behind a seal that even a Middle Alpha Omega Overgod could not penetrate. It was lost beyond recovery.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Cain looked toward Cipher, Zephirax, Arkam, Amara, and Uriel. They were all gathered—but they were joined by others. Two additional figures stood within the hall: Late ArchDeities, one belonging to the Atrox Immortus Race and the other a Godslayer Human.

It required little effort to deduce that this pair represented the two Empyrean Worlds that had declined to join the struggle against the Heart of the Root.

Their countenances were calm and their stances disciplined, yet the arrogance beneath their masks was palpable. This confidence stemmed partly from the fact that Cipher and the others emitted erratic auras, betraying the severity of their injuries. To these newcomers, it seemed the Alliance was in desperate need of their backing.

Cain gave the duo a brief look—and then completely ignored them. He addressed his own comrades instead.

"There is much for us to go over," he stated. "But first, I shall mend the injuries to your forms and souls. Come."

A wave of relief passed through the five super powerhouses. They had exhausted their life force, soul force, and will, sustaining grievous wounds while clashing with the High Lords of the Root. Recovery was not just a priority—it was a necessity.

From the moment they ignited their essence within the Phoenix of Chaos, they had placed their faith in the Scarlet King to restore them. No formal vow had been made, nor did any contract bind him. Fortunately for them, Cain never broke a promise, even one that remained unspoken.

The two Late ArchDeities, however, took offense at being overlooked. Fury flickered across their features, and the Godslayer Human stood up abruptly from his seat.

"There are urgent matters to discuss," he began, "so before you take any action—"

He never finished his sentence.

Cain’s eyes locked onto him—frigid, ancient, and devoid of pity. In that stare, the Godslayer did not see a man, but the concentrated rage and sorrow of millions of soldiers who had suffered while he and his world remained in hiding. That sentiment, that condemnation, manifested physically. A colossal scarlet gate appeared behind Cain, its suffocating power saturating the room. The souls of everyone present shuddered violently.

"Insignificant ants," Cain uttered, his voice low and freezing. "I have no interest in your words. If your masters wish to talk, they can appear in person. Utter another sound—and I shall consume your soul."

Silence gripped the chamber as the gate vanished. Cain walked away without another word, escorting Cipher and the others from the Hall.

Behind him, their pride dissolved into sheer terror. The Atrox and the Godslayer Human trembled uncontrollably, crushed by the aura of the Scarlet Throne. Even in a weakened state, Cain was terrifying beyond comprehension.

He gave them no further thought. Had he not been injured, he might have been tempted to shatter their defenses, scour their minds, and reveal their true motives. But presently, the Alliance could not afford another theater of war. His priority had to be the restoration of the warriors who had defied the Heart of the Root—those who had earned his respect through blood, not through excuses.