The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2505 The Crimson Exarch's offer

Anark, Meylin, together with the other leaders of the Nine Empyrean Sun Alliance, started deliberating their upcoming strategy.

The fresh triumph had boosted their drive, yet not a single one among them was naive enough to assume victory in the war. The Worlds of the Root endured, their spreading corruption still forming a fatal hindrance.

To end the conflict, a resolution was essential.

Numerous approaches existed to counter the corrupting aura from the Root worlds. The simplest method involved enhancing their cultivation levels. Mightier experts could withstand the corruption for extended durations.

Regrettably, such a fix demanded time-something they did not

possess.

The Root kept advancing without pause, and delaying for decades of slow progress would merely let the foe become far more threatening.

Thus, they sought other options.

Quickly, two concepts rose to prominence in the talks: Runic Formations and Genetic Coding.

Through the ingenuity of luminaries like the Sky Sovereigns, the alliance had forged remarkably sophisticated runic skills. Their top battle tool to date-the Runic War Avatar-had demonstrated the ability to attain Half-Step Alpha Omega Overgod Rank, exceeding prior projections.

Yet, runes by themselves fell short.

That brought Genetic Coding into the debate. Though the alliance lacked a peerless genetic coder to match history's top experts, the Scarlet King

had bequeathed a priceless treasure.

A vast, impeccably structured compendium of genetic wisdom.

Building on that base, the Nine Empyrean Sun Alliance's scholars achieved staggering advances in mere years.

Indeed, trials had commenced on genetic bloodlines that could defy Root corruption.

Given sufficient materials, these bloodlines might get produced en masse and fused into top fighters.

Gradually, a strategy emerged.

Countless elements had to align. Runic specialists needed to craft fresh formations shielding whole armies, as genetic scientists hastened resistant bloodline creation.

It promised great difficulty.

Success, however, might alter the war's direction.

Hours slipped by while the chiefs hashed out particulars.

At last, each grasped their duties.

They exchanged nods prior to departing the room, prepared for the colossal tasks awaiting.

Shortly, Anark alone lingered in the hall.

His solitude lasted but briefly.

The atmosphere quivered abruptly.

Space cracked open, fine fissures webbing over the

chamber. Moments later, a gateway appeared.

The fortress stood sealed firm, its space-time barred to teleportation or realm-crossing.

This intrusion defied normal teleportation.

The gateway linked straight to the golden river threading through and binding every reality.

From its depths emerged a silhouette.

The Crimson Exarch.

Golden radiance danced in his Red King Eyes, mirroring the boundless splendor of the realm he quitted. That sheen displayed his supreme command of The Flow, a force immense enough to warp space-time laws.

Anark's brow furrowed at once.

Regardless of how often Noah appeared, the identical gut response arose.

His senses blared alarms.

It resembled gazing upon a stellar marvel embodied as a man.

The wariness in Anark's stare merely broadened Noah's grin.

"That was a solid plan," Noah remarked offhandedly. "But you know things would be much easier if you simply accepted my offer."

Anark's scowl intensified.

A pause followed before he gradually shook his head.

"Awakening my memories and my Ancestor Lineage might indeed be helpful," he conceded. "But I trust my gut when they tell me I should

be wary of you."

His stare grew keener.

"So my answer is still no."

The Crimson Exarch kept his smile, betraying zero sign of irritation.

"Are you sure?" Noah responded breezily. "I would also fight by your side. And I have grown quite a bit stronger during my last few journeys into

The Flow."

The golden glow in Noah's eyes flared, flooding the hall.

Then he uttered once more, tossing out a bombshell like lightning.

"And I have also become powerful enough to open the gate to the

Primordial Sanctuary."

Anark went rigid.

His eyes widened a touch, his pulse faltering.

Full recall of his prior life's memories eluded him still,

but the shards he held made one fact plain.

The Primordial Sanctuary held vital significance.

"If you enter it," Noah pressed evenly, "you will transcend your current limitations. After that, the Worlds of the Root would have no fate other than burning beneath your power."

Each phrase pierced Anark's soul like a barb.

Temptation embodied.

Power.

Knowledge.

Transcendence.

All that the True Primordial of the Void required to claim war's triumph.

Nevertheless-

Anark merely narrowed his eyes and shook his head once more.

"The answer is still no."

His look turned piercing, more searching.

A telling gleam sparked in his eyes as he locked onto

Noah's crimson stare.

"The only way I would accept your offer," Anark stated deliberately, "is if you

could bring Cain back."

Noah's propositions dazzled.

Yet Anark grasped a key truth.

Should the Scarlet King return, he could deliver those boons

-and likely greater ones.

And unlike Noah...

Cain earned Anark's full trust.

The Crimson Exarch let out a gentle sigh.

"I already told you," he said. "I cannot do that."

He gave a light shrug.

"I could recover his body, yes. But his Primordial Essence and his

mind are far beyond my reach."

Noah's smile eased a fraction.

"And honestly, knowing my brother, I doubt he would appreciate my

help anyway. He's extremely stubborn."

His grin stretched wider.

"Just like you."

Golden torrents of power swirled about Noah's form as The Flow's might drew him back to the Endless Current.

"I suppose today's answer is still no," he noted casually.

The golden surge heightened.

"Remember-just call for me when you're ready. I'll be listening."

His words lingered softly in the chamber.

"I listen to everything that happens in this universe."

Next, the golden surge engulfed him.

In an instant, the Crimson Exarch faded away.

Silence reclaimed the hall.

Only post Noah's exit did Anark ease up a bit.

And upon relaxing-

Fatigue crashed over him like a deluge.

The burden choked.

An entire universe's destiny weighed upon his shoulders. Trillions of

souls hinged on his choices. A single error might unravel all.

For moments, he stood motionless, drawing measured breaths.

Then fists tightened.

His gaze hardened.

His stance firmed. "Move forward," Anark whispered softly.

"And never stop."

Resolve blazed in the True Primordial of the Void's eyes

as he pivoted and quitted the hall.

Endless labors yet remained.