The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2360 New enemies? (II)

Cain's gaze sharpened as a pair of figures stepped out from the unfamiliar portals.

One belonged to the Atrox Immortus Race, while the other was a member of the Godslayer Humankind.

The Atrox was a titan of a man, his massive frame encased in obsidian armor that appeared to be crafted from the void itself. A heavy sword was gripped in his hand, radiating an oppressive weight even in its stillness. His posture was stiff and his expression remained icy and detached, as if he existed beyond the reach of judgment or concern.

The Godslayer, in contrast, was elegant and poised. A third eye was embedded vertically in the center of his forehead, partially closed yet vigilant, while his long violet hair trailed behind him. He exuded a presence that was serene, disciplined—and utterly overwhelming.

Cain required little time for analysis.

The Atrox’s aura suggested a power level equal to Cipher and the other elite powerhouses of the Six Sacred Races. The Godslayer, however, was on a different level entirely. His aura pulsed with the undeniable majesty of an Alpha-Omega Overgod.

Tension saturated the hall the moment the pair arrived.

Anark, Cipher, Amara, Zephirax, Arkam, and Uriel centered their focus on the strangers. Their looks were piercing, filled with enmity, and completely lacking any hint of warmth.

The hostility was justified.

While the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance had shed blood and faced the threat of total destruction during the Invasion of the Heart of the Root, the forces of these two Empyrean Worlds had stayed silent. They had merely observed. They had waited in the shadows.

The Atrox remained unmoved by the surrounding animosity. His expression stayed indifferent, as if the opinions of those in the room were beneath his notice.

Opposite him, the Godslayer maintained a self-assured, friendly grin—one that blended charisma with a terrifying sense of power.

"I am Markin," he announced with a calm tone. "Ruler of the Endless Dream Kingdom and the Eternitysoul Empyrean World."

His voice was velvety and deep, carrying the weight of natural leadership.

"I am fully aware of the friction between us," Markin went on. "However, I hope we can move past these grievances—for the sake of our respective homes."

Concluding his statement, Markin offered a low bow to the assembled group. Upon standing straight, he threw a quick, pointed look at the Atrox standing beside him.

The giant man let out a weary sigh, then pressed his palms together and gave a single nod.

"I am Kaizer," he stated curtly. "Emperor of the Night Empire. Ruler of the Endlessnight Empyrean World."

With their identities revealed, the two turned their full attention to the alliance leaders, waiting for a greeting.

Silence was the only reply.

Complex emotions flickered across the faces of Cipher, Amara, Zephirax, Arkam, and Uriel as they stared down the two rulers. Their lack of response spoke volumes.

Words were meaningless.

Only deeds carried weight.

And thus far, the only trait this duo had exhibited was cowardice.

Furthermore, while these two rulers were undeniably formidable, the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance was far from helpless. Their power expanded with every sunrise, their combatants tempered by the fires of genuine war. Having survived a direct confrontation with the World of the Root, they understood the path ahead would be grueling—but they were confident in walking it alone.

The price of victory would be steep.

Yet, it was a price they were willing to endure.

Ultimately, none of the five spoke. Instead, every eye in the room shifted toward Cain.

He held the title of Warmaster.

He was also the undisputed strongest among them—particularly following his most recent bout of secluded cultivation.

The memory of that gate releasing Chaos Weapons, which nearly reduced Radagon to nothing, was burned into their minds.

Cain fixed his eyes on the pair.

The Power of Chaos and the Power of the Flow vibrated subtly as he delved into their minds and spirits, stripping away their surface intentions without hesitation. After a brief pause, he gave a slow nod and pointed toward two vacant chairs.

"You belong to the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe," Cain remarked flatly. "Thus, you may sit."

"To accelerate the pace of our campaigns," Cain added, "we will require your supplies."

Faint smiles touched the lips of Markin and Kaizer, as they assumed their status was already established.

Then Cain spoke again.

"However," he said, his voice turning freezing cold, "it is not yet certain if you will be granted entry into this alliance."

Total silence followed.

The air in the room became heavy in an instant.

Markin and Kaizer traded a quick look, their faces turning grim as the threat hidden in Cain's statement became obvious.

Their worlds held riches—immense, priceless resources—that could stoke the fires of the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance war machine.

But Cain did not need their permission.

He was fully prepared to seize those riches by force if it came to that.

Kaizer’s aura began to swell, a flicker of murderous intent dancing in his eyes.

"Do you grasp the weight of what you are saying?" the Atrox challenged. "Are you looking to make even more enemies?"

Markin remained quiet, but the frost in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Cain took a slow breath in and let it out.

"I was once too weak," he whispered. "And because of that failure, a whole world perished. Trillions of souls were snuffed out."

The crimson glow in his eyes grew more intense, mirroring a multitude of spirits—the wills of his comrades and the countless civilians counting on him to safeguard their realm.

"Even if the Root is destroyed," Cain continued, "that tragedy cannot be undone."

His expression hardened into stone.

"I refuse to be weak ever again."

In the blink of an eye, he vanished.

He reappeared right between them.

Cain’s palms locked onto their shoulders before either ruler could move. Lightning crackled through his form—a display of raw, savage speed identical to the lightning Zephirax utilized to transcend his own boundaries.

Pure terror and disbelief filled the eyes of the Atrox and the Godslayer.

They had observed Cain’s prowess during the Invasion of the Heart of the Root through specialized scrying techniques and artifacts. They were under the impression that his overwhelming might was derived mostly from his Tribulation Flames—and that without them, the two of them could take him on together.

They were mistaken.

Fatally mistaken.

They might put up a fight.

But in the end, their heads would still fall.

Cain looked at them with a frigidness that stopped their hearts for a heartbeat—before his face relaxed into a bright, predatory smile.

"I believe," he said softly, "it would be far better if we settled this through negotiation."

"Don't you agree?"