Chapter 4502: Dawn III

Karma.

The concept has been debated across countless civilizations and cultures throughout the ages. Some believe it to be an immutable law of reality, a cosmic balance sheet where every action is recorded and every debt eventually comes due. They argue that Existence itself keeps score, that righteousness will be rewarded and wickedness punished in time.

Others believe it to be nothing more than false hope, a comforting story told to the oppressed to help them sleep at night while their suffering continues unabated.

And when one observed reality with cold objectivity, the second perspective seemed to hold more weight. More often than not, the vile tyrant crushing entire populations under his boot would die peacefully in his bed surrounded by luxury.

The rich noble oppressing the masses would pass his wealth to his children and never face consequences. The corrupt entity wielding power without responsibility would ascend higher and higher, their crimes buried beneath mountains of success.

Karma, it seemed, rarely made house calls.

But the few times that karma did visit such beings, when the scales finally balanced and the debt came due...

Karma could be a bitch.

---

On the other side of The Veil.

In The Lands of The Dead.

Past the vast swathes of regions and Citadels of The Dead that the Great Usurper was silently spreading his grand Derivative Civilization of Idle Existence through.

In the deepest reaches of The Lands of Dead, there existed a domain that very few Guiders of Order were even allowed to approach. It existed in layers of existence far above everything else, in an isolated space removed from the normal flow of reality.

Inside of it, all that could be seen was the white brilliance of Order and the obsidian brilliance of Death mixing together in patterns of terrible beauty.

At this moment, livid words echoed out inside this isolated region with the force of thunder.

"A vile sycophantic fuck and the Young Order he defiles... he actually dares to do this shit?!"

...!

The roaring voice belonged to none other than THE Dead Order, and she was not having a good day.

She sat upon a brilliant massive white marbled throne that gleamed with concentrated authority. Her lower body was entirely covered in burning crimson-gold flames that climbed higher with each passing moment. Her upper body surged with seas of white Order that crashed down continuously to push these flames from spreading any further up her form.

Her gaze was currently one of complete lividity and rage, and there were several things contributing to her fury.

One was the simple fact that if she had not been maddeningly laughing at the misfortune of Osmont and how he would soon perish from the curse, she would not have been caught off guard by the reality of him crossing The Veil in that space between spaces.

With her power fully focused, she would have been able to grab hold of him in an instant and crushed him for his audacity.

But due to her carelessness, her arrogant assumption that he was already defeated, she had only discovered him when he was already in contact with her leg. And after that moment of contact, her first course of action had been to prevent the spread of the flames across her entire being rather than pursue him.

In that brief instant of divided attention, she had allowed him to escape back across The Veil.

She was fuming at this moment, her existence trembling with rage. A lesser being had effectively played their hand against her and won, all because of her carelessness and overconfidence.

The karma that followed was truly a bitch.

And the price to pay was ridiculously heavy.

The pain of the curse of THE Living Elemental was horrendously excruciating even for her. THE Dead Order held the distinction of THE in capital letters, but this was only partly true in her current state.

She was not the complete Order. She was Dead.

Any existence who could not maintain their Primordial Civilization and was actually collapsed, who had experienced the cessation of their grand power, effectively lost the full distinction of THE for a period of time until they emerged strong enough to reclaim it in the future.

THE Dead Order had not fully reclaimed her power yet. She could only be considered halfway recovered from her collapse, struggling to rebuild what had been lost.

She was far grander than a False THE, but she was still not a full THE entity with complete power.

So while facing THE Immolation Of The Sacrilegious Savage, even though she resisted the excruciating pain that other entities would be feeling with this curse through sheer force of her partial authority, she still felt at least half of the intended pain.

And even this alone was something that pained even someone like her to a degree that bordered on intolerable.

It was like a junior martial artist facing the attack of a grandmaster who had trained four thousand more years. They had learned the same arts, practiced the same techniques, understood the same principles.

But the grandmaster could whoop the ass of the junior martial artist so easily it was almost embarrassing.

The ass of THE Dead Order was being whooped right now by the curse of THE Living Elemental, both figuratively and literally as her lower half was actually burning with flames that refused to be fully extinguished.

And she could either endure this excruciating burning for the foreseeable future while dedicating the rest of her power to ensure that it did not spread to all of her existence and consume her completely...

Or...

Her expression twisted in utter anger and apathy at the same time, the two emotions warring across her features. She raised her head upward with indecision visible in her ancient eyes.

The burning sensation down below pulsed with fresh intensity, and that pain resolved her indecision instantly.

She gazed up decisively towards the space above her throne.

"You promised me three times that you would act on my behalf," she said with cold clarity. "Three times. These flames burning across my existence would derail everything that I have planned as I would be forced to focus on them constantly. I do not wish for that."

She paused, her eyes hardening.

"At this time, get rid of these flames for me. And remove the capability of them to ever affect me again."

She wanted to be absolutely thorough with her words, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Her utilizing this solution was a heavy choice, a debt she was calling in that she would remember Osmont for forcing her to spend.

After her words, she stared at the space above silently as nothing occurred for several long moments. It felt as if existence itself was asking her whether she was truly sure about this choice, whether she understood the cost.

Her gaze remained decisive and unwavering.

Moments later, the surrounding reality began to shift.

Existence in the surroundings twisted in ways that should not have been possible. It felt like all of the surrounding space dipped and folded to cover the body of THE Dead Order like a veil descending from above.

A terrifying flash of THE Civilizational Authority of Existence was exerted, raw and absolute.

In the next moment, the body of THE Dead Order that had been covered by crimson-gold flames was instantly blanketed by stellar brilliance that shone with the light of fundamental reality itself.

The crimson-gold flames faded away instantly, snuffed out like candles before a hurricane.

THE Dead Order breathed calmly after that intervention, her eyes showing a sense of relief before they quickly flashed back to apathy and rage once more.

She examined herself carefully, confirming that no part of her existence was affected by the crimson-gold flames anymore. More than that, she could feel that such similar flames or type of curse would not be harmful to her in the future, as if she had been granted immunity. So Osmont would never be able to spread it to her again!

Only THE Civilizational Authority can go against THE Civilizational Authority.

This proved to be true at this very moment in the starkest possible terms.

THE Dead Order had paid a heavy cost, spent one of her three promised interventions, in order to get past a problem that another being was giving every single ounce of their existence to solve and endure.

And yet a few words from her and moments later it was resolved completely.

The disparity was absolute. The difference in scale was undeniable.

Her eyes flashed with lividity as she looked outward as if she could see past the far distant Veil that separated her domain from Observable Existence.

"Osmont," she said with venom dripping from each syllable. "Osmont. Osmont!"

The grandeur of Order and Death began to permeate all around her throne as her words echoed out with pure malice.

"Since you are so good at pissing off THE Entities, I will add myself to the list with pleasure," she continued with cold fury. "You think yourself safe on the other side of The Veil, just because I cannot cross it? Because you hide behind that barrier like a coward?"

She leaned forward on her throne, her presence intensifying.

"Okay. It is time for you to learn a lesson. You’re going to learn that even if I do not have the full distinction of THE, I am still half of such a being. And half is more than enough to deal with an insect like you."

Her voice rose to a roar.

"You’re going to learn. You are going to fucking learn!"

As she roared with such hatred and vitriol, the surrounding existence seemed to respond to her fury.

The space around her throne grew just a little dimmer. Just a little less vibrant.

As if reality itself was holding its breath in anticipation of what THE Dead Order would do next.

And in that moment of terrible promise, karma prepared to make another house call.

This time, the target was named Noah Osmont.

Whether he would ever be reached though, was unknown!

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