Book 21 - Finding Peace in a Sea of Fire and Steel

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At the very edge of the Nine Empyrean Sun Universe stretched a colossal barrier. It marked the boundary of creation itself, the wall that separated existence from the endless emptiness beyond. For billions of years it had stood unbroken, unmarred by so much as a scratch. It was the shield of reality, the bastion that defined where the universe ended.

But that day, the impossible happened.

"CRACK!"

Hairline fractures began to crawl across the inner surface of the barrier. They were thin and would still take a long time before they became large enough to break through, and allow what was on the other side to come in.

The origin of those cracks was simple, yet horrifying.

Something vast—something monstrous—was hammering against it. It was the same entity that crashed against the universal barrier in the form of an obsidian monolith.

The creature was larger than an Empyrean World, its form a writhing nightmare of mouths, maws, and tendrils. It began hurling itself against the barrier more than a decade ago, and it had not ceased its assault for even a single heartbeat since. Blow after blow, its gaping maws crashed against the wall of the universe. The pace was slow, but inexorable. Every strike brought it closer to its goal: forging a gate into the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe.

As for what they would do after that? One just needed to hear their chant to know it.

"WELCOME TO THE UNITY! WELCOME TO THE ROOT!"

The voices thundered from within the creature, echoing across the void like a chant from the abyss.

The words reverberated with manic triumph, as though the entities inside were celebrating their inevitable entry. The enemy from outside the universe—those who had waited in the cold nothingness beyond creation—were moving closer. The cracks widened. The wall groaned. The end drew near.

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Far away, near the Tenth Empyrean Sun, floated another world. This one dwarfed even High Worlds, yet it was not made of matter, nor even of energy.

It was pure psychic power, condensed into the shape of a planet.

Its might was so immense that even approaching its outer edges could crush the body of an ArchDeity. The deeper one ventured, the denser the pressure grew, until reality itself twisted beneath the weight.

At its core sat a man, peacefully cultivating. For him, this place was not a trial, not a battlefield. It was simply a sanctuary—a realm where body and soul could rest.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.

They glowed like twin red supernovas, burning with such force that the entire world froze. Time itself seemed to recoil, halting in terror. For a breathless moment, the flow of existence stopped, afraid to move beneath his gaze.

Then the stillness broke. The world resumed its twisting rhythm, though sadness lingered in his eyes.

"Ahh… foolish boy," he murmured, voice tinged with genuine sorrow. "You could have simply used my energy to escape."

But the grief passed quickly. His gaze hardened, transforming into eyes of absolute control, absolute determination. They no longer held sorrow. They embodied Order.

"Time to get serious."

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While Cain healed, the Everstrife Empyrean World entered an era of unprecedented change.

The armies of the Scarlet Kingdom, guided by the wisdom and strategy of the Six Chief Councilors, marched across the continents. A world once infamous for its ceaseless bloodshed and endless wars began, almost overnight, to resemble a dreamland. Massacres that had once been daily occurrences dwindled into memory. The savage slaughter of entire sects and villages was no longer tolerated.

Of course, bloodshed among cultivators could never truly vanish. Cultivation itself was the pursuit of eternity, a climb toward godhood, and with it came risk. To chase immortality meant accepting the possibility of death at any moment. Duels, rivalries, and challenges still raged—but now they took place away from towns and cities, without dragging innocents into their wake.

The final battle between the Scarlet Kingdom and the Imperium of Time had been transmitted across the entire world. Every cultivator, every mortal who could see the heavens, had witnessed it. And in doing so, the Scarlet Path spread faster than anyone could have imagined.

The old division between the so-called "light" and "dark" camps began to dissolve. The very concept of hybrids, once taboo, slowly became accepted. What had once been heresy was now embraced as progress.

Yet peace on the surface did not mean the absence of blood in the shadows.

The Scarlet Path demanded order, and those who could not adapt to it—who clung to wickedness, cruelty, or chaos—were quietly removed. Evil cultivators below the Third Realm were sacrificed to the Scarlet Throne, their souls fueling its growing power. Their worth was too small to matter in any other way. Their sacrifice to the Samsara Flame would not give any Gift that the Scarlet Kingdom could not forge on its own.

Prima Deities, however, were captured alive, as the Fortune they could provide would be a great asset to the Scarlet Kingdom.

The management of evil and wicked ArchDeities was a little more complicated. They were cunning, slippery, and difficult to root out. Many of the most corrupt had gone into hiding, but as the Scarlet Path spread, their refuge shrank. Slowly, inevitably, they were discovered.

Catching them alive was another challenge altogether. Even Leonidas, the strongest ArchDeity of the Scarlet Path, would struggle to capture one alive.

Fortunately, the Scarlet Kingdom had Anark.

The Primordial was so powerful, his mastery over cosmic forces so absolute, that he could transform into a stream of wind, materialize behind an ArchDeity, and knock them unconscious with a single blow. Thanks to him, even the mighty could be brought low.

Meanwhile, cultivation itself blossomed.

The techniques available to the people soared to higher levels than ever before. Paths once restricted to the battlefield expanded into new disciplines—Runemasters, Genetic Coders, and countless others flourished. For the first time in recorded history, cultivation was not only about war. It was about creation, craft, and progress.

The Everstrife Empyrean World grew richer, stronger, and more vibrant with every passing day.

And then, after six months of silence and seclusion, Cain opened his eyes.

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