The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2351 Enemies rising

Book 24 - If You Come at the King, You Best Not Miss

An era of growth that could only be described as unparalleled took hold of the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe.

Resources surged through the Golden Hall with incredible velocity, transitioning from deep vaults to open displays and from storage into the palms of the eager. Warriors traversed the hallways with expressions of pure exhilaration; their eyes sparkled as treasures that normally required eons to find were presented openly. Artifacts of staggering worth were no longer concealed by ancient seals or buried in forgotten ruins, but rested within arm's reach.

Furthermore, that was merely the start.

The secret techniques bequeathed by the Scarlet King proved even more breathtaking. Manuals and shards of profound enlightenment circulated among the cultivators, providing the means for massive breakthroughs. Many who had been stalled at their bottlenecks witnessed their barriers crumble almost instantly.

Even more startling was the number of combatants who chose to reforge their bodies, souls, and minds by harnessing the energy of the Scarlet Leviathan and the newly birthed Scarlet Star. This evolution altered the landscape of the universe. The Ego Eternal Path of Power—once viewed as the most grueling Cultivation path—entered the mainstream, with a multitude of cultivators attaining the state of Mind and Soul as One and progressing with startling speed.

The Golden Hall was a hive of vitality, aspiration, and hope.

However, a dark shadow lingered beneath every joyful face.

Not a single soul believed this tranquility would endure.

They were all acutely aware of the approaching storm.

Standing high above the Golden Hall was Anark.

Seven Stars of Origin revolved around the Primordial’s head, radiant and absolute. These stars belonged exclusively to him, signifying the moment his Cultivation finally reached the Alpha-Omega Overgod Tier without the assistance of the Universe Matrix. His mere presence warped the fabric of space; the sheer density of his existence cemented his status among the most formidable entities in the universe.

Only the Scarlet King possessed the power to challenge him now.

Yet, no satisfaction could be found within Anark.

It simply wasn't enough.

Radagon had likely regained much of his former potency by now, and even more concerning, two souls had successfully breached the gate into the Emptiness. The Primordial’s fists tightened as his vision drifted toward the horizon, focusing on the territory of his foes.

The tempest was brewing.

Within the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe, one specific world stood apart, entirely unlike its peers.

It was encased in a colossal wall of fire and pulsing flesh that writhed as if it were a living organism. Even Alpha-Omega Overgods were repelled by its aura. To even look upon it was to feel a deep soul-deep revulsion—a sensation of witnessing a cosmic tumor or a fundamental error in the universe.

It was something that should never have been, a blight that required total eradication before its rot could spread.

Past the wall of flames, the nightmare only intensified.

What was once a vibrant Empyrean World—its laws perfectly synced with the Nine Empyrean Suns—had been twisted into a nameless abomination. The ground itself had become a landscape of flesh and rot. The soil was composed of corpses, their features locked in perpetual torment, their eyes blinking and limbs twitching as though life still lingered in their remains.

And that was just the surface level.

The very architecture of the Empyrean World had been redesigned. It now existed as a multi-layered domain, reminiscent of the Heart of the Root, though significantly larger and more potent.

The deeper strata teemed with endless swarms of abominations—monsters created for the sole purpose of consumption and conquest, their shapes constantly shifting and merging in sickening designs.

Three figures stood at the very center of the World of the Root.

Among them was Radagon.

The formidable King of the Root stared at the ground, his body stiff, avoiding the eyes of his companions. The arrogance of a ruler who feared nothing had vanished from his demeanor.

The first of the other two figures was draped in heavy crimson robes, her stature tall and commanding. Numerous pale arms sprouted from her form—reaching, clutching, and gesturing—animated by insatiable greed. A bone mask hid her face, though it was partially masked by clusters of shifting eyes and fingers.

She did not look like a warrior who favored direct confrontation.

She was the type to submerge a battlefield in spells that warped the very fabric of reality.

Beside her stood her polar opposite.

A massive, winged demon loomed like a deity of carnage. Its hulking, muscular frame was wrapped in dark, leathery hide, with enormous bat-like wings that could shroud the entire sky. Ornate, heavy armor was fused directly into its skin, adorned with embedded skulls and chains. The creature was covered in battle scars so profound they had become etched into its very soul.

The woman's eyes burned with an authoritative light.

Radagon shivered.

“Tell us, Radagon,” she commanded, her voice sounding layered and warped. “How do you intend to remove the primary obstacle in our way? What is your strategy for dealing with the Scarlet King?”

In the distant void of the Tenth Empyrean World, far from the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe, Adam stood in contemplative silence. His crimson eyes flashed with a lethal light as he observed the rift torn into the void—the scar created when Cain forced the Rank Twelve Depravita Astral Supremacy Star into reality. Adam’s power had kept the wound open all this time, yet it was finally showing signs of collapse.

“Ahh...” Adam exhaled a soft sigh.

He shifted his attention to the person standing at his side.

An elderly man with a lean but powerful build stood there peacefully.

He was bald with a flowing white beard, and his aura projected a sense of calm strength and unyielding determination.

“I’m sorry, Teacher,” Adam whispered.

The old man gave a small smile and shook his head dismissively.

“There is no need for apologies, boy,” he answered. “This was my choice. If we intend to succeed, the Scarlet King must be dealt with.”

His eyes shone with a peculiar, longing light.

“Furthermore... I truly long for my home,” he added. “I am glad to see it once more—even if it happens at the end of my journey.”