The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2010: Starfall Race

Cain did not allow himself to lose focus. He had the strength to destroy those trees if he wished, but it would require considerable effort. Each one was massive and deeply rooted, feeding on the continent’s ambient essence. Burning them to ash would take time—too much time. Time enough for Azazel and his forces to arrive, surround the area, and strike with their full might.

Worse still, Cain could not ignore the obvious: those trees were not merely parasitic growths but conduits of power that could be channeled into the forces of Azazel’s side, making fighting near them dangerous.

Though the sight filled him with fury, Cain forced his emotions into stillness. He had learned something invaluable. This was Azazel’s countermeasure to the Scarlet Intercontinental Formation.

Silently, he moved on, his form a streak of wind invisible against the sky. He swept across every continent under Juda, Gilgamesh, and Calypso’s control. Everywhere he went, the same sight repeated: vast dark trees rising from the earth like spears, spreading their roots through land and ley lines alike. Their presence was not limited to their domains alone—Juda and Gilgamesh’s territories were close together, yet to reach Calypso’s domain, they needed to go through the continents controlled by the Endless Strength Heaven, which also had Dark Trees planted in them.

Clearly, Azazel had not been idle. Even after the catastrophic defeat he suffered at RainbowSky Heaven, he had spent his time expanding his domain in silence.

He pushed deeper into his reconnaissance, becoming one with the wind, slipping unseen through every continent, every city, every town. He listened to whispers in markets, to sermons in temples, to drunken boasts in taverns. He extended his senses carefully, always cautious not to alert Azazel. Days passed, and gradually a frown formed on his face.

The pattern was undeniable.

Not only had he failed to locate Azazel’s headquarters, Juda, Gilgamesh, and Calypso had vanished, as well as the master of Endless Strength Heaven. Their halls stood, their followers trained, their armies drilled, but their masters were simply... gone. Even the Prima Deities beneath them, men and women who should have known every command of their lords, were oblivious. They did not know where their leaders were, nor if they still lived.

”Where are they?” Cain’s frown deepened. It was as though the earth itself had swallowed them. Not a trace, not a whisper, not even the faintest psychic echo remained.

The thought crossed his mind to call upon the Alter-Egos he had assimilated into the Scarlet Throne. Through them, he could attempt divination, prying into secrets hidden beyond sight. But almost as soon as the idea surfaced, Cain dismissed it. Divination against enemies of this level—three ArchDeities and a True Depravita—was little more than suicide. It was inviting a backlash that would put him into a coma.

”Ahhhh...” Cain exhaled heavily, the first stirrings of frustration threatening to cloud his calm. For a moment, he was without direction—until his eyes sharpened, and a glimmer of inspiration lit them.

”Wait... I do have a clue.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he activated the Crown of Ascension, letting his mind pierce backward through the river of memory. He focused not on battles, nor on formations, but on something far subtler: the words Juda had once spoken. During his attempt to lure Amon and Bael to their side, Juda had let something slip.

”Starfall Haven.”

The name rose like a spark in Cain’s thoughts. That was most likely the place Azazel had used to empower Juda and Gilgamesh. Cain did not know what it was, nor where it lay, but now he had a thread to follow.

”System,” Cain commanded silently, his will flowing into the Absolute Life Form System Module. ”Suspend all other tasks for the moment. Redirect the full capacity of the A.I. Chip Module to the Starfall Haven. Cross-reference every memory I have absorbed, every text I have read, every rumor I have heard. Find it.”

[Task assigned.]

The robotic voice echoed at once in his mind. A moment later, the flood began. The A.I. Chip combed through decades of gathered knowledge at inhuman speed. It parsed symbols, calculated probabilities, and discarded impossibilities. Billions of computations surged and resolved, and then the voice of the Absolute Life Form System returned.

[Starfall Haven. Analysis complete. Highest probability: it was once the ancient cultivation ground of the Starfall Race, a unique people born naturally in the void.]

Cain’s breath caught.

[The Starfall were powerful but rare, their fertility low, their bodies of immense value. They were hunted to their extinction. Their ancestral home was seized. Three possible sites match the location of Starfall Haven. Transmitting coordinates.]

A complicated expression shadowed Cain’s face as the data imprinted in his mind. He had never encountered one of the Starfall—extinct billions of years before his birth—but the thought resonated with him deeply. A race hunted and harvested for what they were... it was his story as well. Was he not hunted for being a Primordial?

He shook the thought away. Pity was useless. Action mattered.

Of the three coordinates, one lay within his own dominion. He dismissed it immediately. Nothing could hide from Ao, whose body and will were the earth, the sky, and the essence of those continents. That left two. One was on the far side of the world; the other lay uncomfortably close, at the periphery of Juda’s territory.

”I will search the nearest first,” Cain decided. ”If I fail, then I’ll cross the world for the second.”

With a nod to himself, he moved.

It was not long before he reached the shore of a frozen lake. The surface shimmered like cracked glass, reflecting pale light from the heavens. Cain stepped lightly, his body shifting seamlessly from air to liquid as he slipped beneath the ice.

The water was frigid, choked with currents of unnatural cold, but Cain pressed on, cloaking himself as a ripple of water and avoiding the Divine Beasts lurking in the depths. He swam for hours, patient as stone, descending until the lakebed gave way to the floor of a hidden sea.

He dared not release his psychic senses—the moment he did, Azazel’s awareness could brush against him. But the A.I. Chip Module was far subtler. Its scans radiated in patterns so delicate they blended with the pulse of natural laws, invisible even to a predator like the True Depravita.

Minutes dragged. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Finally, at the forty-fifth minute, the mechanical voice echoed again in his mind.