The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2393 The death of the Scarlet King (VI)

In the majestic chamber of the Golden Hall, Anark, Amara, Cipher, Zephirax, Arkam, and Bael were gathered alongside Leonidas, Amon, and Uriel. What was once a place of harmony and victory now hung heavy with oppression and gloom.

The instant Cain was captured, Anark didn't hesitate for a moment. He swiftly elevated the Scarlet Kingdom's defenses to maximum readiness, deploying armadas and armies before heading directly to the Golden Hall to inform the mighty commanders of the Nine Empyrean Sun Alliance.

A wave of disbelief spread across every Empyrean World they controlled.

Lacking their mightiest fighter—without the Scarlet King—the Alliance plunged into crisis mode. Immediate actions kicked off: soldiers were rallied, protective arrays bolstered, and backup strategies activated.

No one could predict what unseen threat might attack next, and Cain's absence meant even a small error could spell disaster. After all, only he possessed the power to shatter the Wall of Fire and Flesh and confront the Monster of the Root.

Days blurred into nonstop efforts until the leaders could convene to plan their strategy.

Solemn looks marked every face. The immense burden on their backs was crushing—the very load Cain had shouldered daily while guiding the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance. It was only now that the pinnacle experts from the Six Sacred Races grasped how foolish they'd been to challenge his command before.

Coming to terms with how one choice could doom billions of souls, wiping out whole realms in a single blunder, was a horror without end. Yet Cain had always handled it with apparent ease.

Still, lingering on history wasn't an option.

"We've exhausted all methods and resources available," Arkam stated, his tone steady and precise amid the strain. "It's clear the Scarlet King isn't in any of our Empyrean Worlds or the emptiness around them."

The rest affirmed with nods.

"Might he be in the Empyrean Worlds held by those betrayers?" Uriel inquired, icy revulsion gleaming in his gaze as he uttered the phrase.

Leonidas denied it at once with a shake of his head. "The Power of Chaos lets the Scarlet King link across vast Empyrean Worlds. If he were in such a domain, even without direct contact, we'd detect his existence."

"Regardless," Bael snarled, his words laced with seething fury, "we ought to invade those Empyrean Worlds. Markin, Kaizer, and all tied to them need to be wiped out."

The murderous edge in his tone rang true. Though harsh, his suggestion drew nods from many elite forces of the Six Sacred Races and the Knights of the Scarlet Throne. They were primed to tread that violent road.

"We won't."

A sharp, chilling voice sliced through the room like frosty liquid dousing raging flames.

Every gaze shifted to Anark. While no one challenged his command directly, irritation showed on various expressions.

Anark breathed out steadily. "Invading those worlds might play right into a snare. Our top asset is gone, and we can't risk showing more vulnerabilities."

The fighters gripped their hands tightly, irritation plain, yet they recognized the validity in his statement.

Drawing in a steadying breath, Anark pressed on. "That Leonidas, Amon, and Bael remain unharmed after all this time shows the Scarlet Throne endures."

For a brief second, the icy strain softened into subtle grins.

But those smiles vanished swiftly.

"That said," Anark noted, his voice turning keen, "Cain is exceptionally shrewd and strategic. He might have set it up for the Throne to persist even beyond his demise."

Leonidas parted his lips to protest—but silence followed.

He longed to refute it. Urgently. Yet he knew it could happen.

"I hate reaching this view," Anark murmured softly, "but war leaves no space for feelings. We'll keep hunting for Cain and uncover who seized him. As for our battle strategies..."

His tone grew firm, a sense of closure resounding in the hall.

"...the Scarlet King is gone."

The air in the chamber chilled noticeably.

"We can't bank on him coming back to rescue us," Anark finished. "We're on our own."

A heavy quiet fell. Gradually, each one agreed with a nod.

Strategy couldn't hinge on wishes or wonders. Even if faith in Cain's return lingered, plans couldn't rest on such hopes. Starting now, self-reliance was their sole foundation.

Far inside the rotting and tainted World of the Root, three forms lingered wordlessly.

Robuke and Radagon stared at a throbbing golden sphere, wonder and respect shining in their stares. The item emanated tremendous force—its exterior buzzing with myriad plasma auras, each infused with the Root's core. It was crafted from the pure intent and substance of the Abyssalcrown Empyrean World.

"Your transformation skills always leave me stunned, Mikela," Robuke remarked, a savage smile stretching over his hideous features.

He glanced at the figure next to him—a creature donning a bone mask adorned with endless eyes and digits. She was the ally who'd traversed the Emptiness with him into this cosmos. Mikela's eyes sparkled with thrill. "This will unlock our victory," she declared. "Armed with it, we'll escape the need to skulk and bide time. We'll spread unbound, and before long, this whole universe will merge with the Root."

She halted.

The glow in her eyes turned frigid.

"Still," Mikela went on gently, "one last component remains absent."

Robuke's gaze tightened. His smile broadened.

In a sudden move, he grabbed Radagon by the throat.

Alarm and terror contorted Radagon's features. Before understanding dawned, Robuke flung him ahead, shoving him straight into the golden sphere.

"ARGHHHHHHH!"

A wail of utter torment reverberated across the World of the Root as Radagon's form and spirit were torn apart, merged into the throbbing sphere.

The golden sphere blazed fiercely—its radiance surging as the Root devoured yet another offering.

End of Book 24 - If you come at the king, you best not miss.