The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2563 Problem: Hatred

The newly formed True Depravita was plainly surprised by the suggestion, its small draconic body freezing as it absorbed the implications of the Curse Eater's proposal. Even with a nascent grasp of existence, it could still deduce meaning.

From its limited observations, it discerned that the man who had led it here, the married couple before it, and all other inhabitants of the city were not individual entities but rather the amalgamation of multiple souls into a singular, unified consciousness.

It quickly grasped the gravity of the request.

Should the child within the woman's belly be brought into the world, then it would be required to merge with it.

While it was a True Depravita, having ascended beyond the inherent chaos of its lineage, this did not automatically imbue it with virtue or altruism. Its inherent purity did not dictate its moral compass; it merely afforded the liberty to forge its own path. Self-interest, aspiration, empathy, or brutality – these were all potential choices. Consequently, there existed a significant probability that it might refuse.

However, this is precisely where the condition of a nascent being became profoundly influential.

Lifeforms in their infancy instinctively seek connection. They are drawn to warmth, to a sense of belonging, and to the formation of bonds that shape their very existence. And in that precise moment, confronted by an entire city that regarded it not with dread or avarice, but with profound reverence and unfeigned affection, the young True Depravita experienced a stirring deep within its being.

The manner in which they offered obeisance, the genuine sincerity, brotherhood, and familial warmth that illuminated their eyes-it resonated with the little dragon on a level it couldn't fully articulate, yet undeniably felt.

Following a few silent moments, the diminutive dragon tilted its head upward.

A broad, innocent smile bloomed across its features.

Then, it gave a solemn nod.

The response was instantaneous.

The city erupted in collective jubilation, its cheers ascending towards the heavens as though a monumental triumph had been secured. Elation surged through the assembly like an unstoppable tide, suffusing every space with overwhelming happiness as the populace embraced the decision with open hearts. For them, this was far more than a mere ceremony—it signified the welcoming of a new family member.

The couple gracing the altar gazed upon the newborn True Depravita with expressions brimming with parental adoration. No trace of hesitation or doubt lingered in their eyes. To them, the entity before them was already their offspring, as much as the child gestating within the woman's womb. The fusion would not supplant their son; it would make him whole.

"Let the rite commence," declared the Third Realm Curse Eater with serene composure.

He lost no time. The instant the proclamation left his lips, an immense tide of soul power emanated outward, enfolding the altar in a gentle yet undeniably potent aura. The energy felt neither aggressive nor overwhelming; rather, it conveyed a sense of meticulous guidance and unyielding control, steering rather than overpowering.

The nascent True Depravita was then gently lifted into the air by the inexorable force.

Its form began to dissipate, its physical being transforming into a cascade of incandescent, cerulean energy that pulsed like fluid luminescence. With deliberate slowness and utmost care, this stream of energy advanced, permeating the woman's abdomen and permeating her womb.

For a fleeting instant, the flow of time seemed to halt.

The woman convulsed slightly.

A flicker of pain briefly marred her countenance, causing the assembled multitude to inhale sharply, their collective breath held in suspense. Even Anark, observing from a considerable distance,

maintained an intense focus on the unfolding event, unwilling to overlook the minutest detail.

Then—

The discomfort subsided.

The woman regained her composure, her body relaxing as a radiant smile graced her features. She turned to meet her partner's gaze, her eyes alight with

unadulterated bliss and profound happiness.

The fusion had been successfully achieved.

The established quiet instantly fractured as the crowd erupted in even more boisterous celebration. The festivities reignited with amplified fervor, the atmosphere saturated with profound joy and unwavering unity. Witnessing this, even the formidable Third Realm Curse Eater and his Depravita Aspect partook in the revelry, their visages reflecting genuine delight in the auspicious occasion.

From its vantage point high above, concealed within the interwoven fabric of existence, Anark surveyed

the entirety of the scene.

And the frown etched upon his brow deepened.

The rationale was straightforward.

Malice.

When confronted by adversaries who were overtly malevolent, cruel, and

destructive, harboring animosity towards them was a simple matter. Their annihilation was easily justified. When peaceful coexistence proved impossible, when their very essence posed an existential threat to all that one held dear, then their eradication became not merely permissible but an absolute necessity.

This was the very reason Cain had been capable of annihilating billions of Blutlinie within Paradise without a moment's hesitation.

But this situation…

This was fundamentally dissimilar.

The populace of the Tenth Empyrean World were not depraved automatons. They did not betray one another at the slightest hint of personal gain.

They offered mutual support, collaborated effectively, and genuinely prioritized the collective welfare of their community. Their affiliations were authentic, their sentiments sincere.

Such realities rendered the entire predicament considerably more intricate.

Anark's fists clenched, a steely determination solidifying within his heart.

"No room for hesitation," he mused silently. "Doubt only breeds failure. I have a purpose for being here... and I will see it through, regardless of any obstacles."

Compelling his mind towards absolute clarity, Anark commenced an analysis of all his observations.

A single conclusion rapidly surfaced.

The Tenth Empyrean World possessed an exceedingly low rate of fertility.

"Furthermore," he continued his internal monologue, "it appears a child must become a Curse Eater prior to its inaugural breath."

A sharp glint flashed in his eyes as a new query arose.

What unforeseen consequences would arise if this critical transformation did not occur? Would the infant cease development altogether, rendering its gestation incomplete? Or did a more profound, intricate, and concealed mechanism govern this process?

Despite Anark's keen desire to fully unravel this enigma, he recognized the severe constraint of time. The conflict within the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe persisted, and his prolonged presence here extracted a significant toll.

Sufficient knowledge had been acquired.

The moment for action had arrived.

His ultimate objective was unambiguous: the supreme ruler of the Tenth Empyrean World.

Directly soliciting information posed an immense danger. Given the sparse population, coupled with the inherent nature of each inhabitant as a Curse Eater, even the slightest irregularity could betray his presence. Infiltration was therefore an impractical strategy.

Consequently, Anark adopted an alternative tactic. Concealed within the very fabric of reality, he systematically navigated the established power structures of the world. He would approach an organization, meticulously gather intelligence through passive observation, and pinpoint the entities holding authority above it. Subsequently, he would ascend, repeating this methodical process.

The overarching strategy was straightforward.

Ascend the hierarchy.

By diligently tracing the lines of command, he was certain to eventually reach the apex – the most formidable power within the world, which would inevitably be under the direct command of its sovereign.

The King of the Tenth Empyrean World.

This methodical approach yielded demonstrable results.

Progressing deliberately, Anark drew ever nearer to the core of the world's power.

During his journey, he noted another crucial detail. Even the most dominant organizations, those governing entire continents and capable of sustaining billions of combatants, were surprisingly modest in scale. At their zenith, they comprised no more than a few million individuals, and this count encompassed even ordinary Curse Eaters.

Even the formidable organizations established by Alpha Omega Overgod, beings possessing the capability to manipulate fundamental laws to a certain extent, could not surmount the persistent issue of low fertility.