The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2020: I am Sloth. I am the one who waits

Dark Trees were not truly intelligent creatures, but they were alive—and like any living being, they defended themselves when threatened. The Dark Tree in the Purity Continent, the southernmost land under the Imperium of Time, lashed out with wild ferocity the moment danger approached. Its colossal branches twisted and whipped like titanic whips, generating shockwaves powerful enough to raise entire mountain ranges.

Unfortunately for it, the Dark Tree was never meant to be a battle automaton. It was a creature of roots and dominion, designed to drain, corrupt, and feed, not to duel gods. Against ordinary Prima Deities, its strikes were devastating, flinging them away like pebbles before a hurricane. But against ArchDeities, the defense was meaningless.

Leonidas, Amon, Bael, Divine Sea, Ozark, and Zeus struck with overwhelming force. Their bodies burned with exhaustion from the previous clash at SilentHeart and from the grueling labor of carving the Scarlet Intercontinental Formation, but there was no room for hesitation. Cain’s scheme had opened a window of opportunity—a direct strike into enemy territory, with no defenses to oppose them. They could not let it pass.

The Dark Tree fought back with great violence, its roots burrowing deep into the continent, its branches lashing, its trunk howling with corrupted energy. But in less than twelve hours, the ArchDeities pried it from the earth. With their combined might, they severed its connection to the land, sealed its consciousness, and paralyzed its form.

The Scarlet Kingdom did not destroy it. Leonidas, Amon, and Bael knew well the vast Fortune that could be harvested from a living Dark Tree. Its corruption could be burned under the Samsara Flame. To simply annihilate it would have been wasteful.

With the tree neutralized, the Scarlet Kingdom’s forces surged once more. Tens of thousands carved runes across the soil of the Purity Continent, channeling every ounce of will and strength into the formation. Their exhaustion did not matter. Their sweat, their blood, their broken bones—none of it mattered. Wide smiles spread across their faces as the crimson glow spread across the land.

The Purity Continent was theirs.

Hearts swelled with triumph. The war was far from finished—this was only its opening act—but this first march of the Scarlet King had secured three continents. One of them was deep inside enemy territory. Even ArchDeities, usually stoic and composed, felt the thrill run through their chests. Their eyes turned instinctively toward the distance, to where another Dark Tree loomed.

If they could uproot that one, they would gain not just another continent, but the most critical of all: the Radiant Soul Continent—the land where Juda’s Heaven lay. To seize it would not only expand their dominion, but strip Juda of his treasures, turning his wealth into fuel for the Scarlet Kingdom’s rise.

Excitement was building, momentum surging like a storm. And then the sky split apart.

A mighty aura descended upon the Radiant Soul Continent.

Azazel had arrived.

He had flown at full speed since leaving SilentHeart, devouring the Dark Trees’ energy along his path to restore his reserves and amplify his speed. Though his journey had been long, he arrived burning with power, his body overflowing with unspent fury.

The True Depravita, normally composed even in calamity, could not hide his rage. His eyes swept across the Purity Continent, drinking in the sight of the broken land where the Dark Tree had once stood. Now it was scarred with runes of the Scarlet Intercontinental Formation, scarlet veins spreading across its surface like an infection.

His aura flared. The sky trembled. The continents shuddered.

Leonidas and the other ArchDeities immediately fell into battle stance. They retreated deeper into the Purity Continent, anchoring themselves fully within the Scarlet Intercontinental Formation, allowing its power to feed into their bodies. The Prima Deities and Divine Cultivators who had worked tirelessly on the formation scattered, knowing that in the presence of Azazel they would be nothing but burdens.

Azazel’s eyes never wavered toward the weak. His attention was fixed solely on the ArchDeities. His grip on his massive sword tightened.

He calculated.

With the Eternity Breaker, he could reach any of them instantly. He could slip through time itself, appear at their side, and land a blow powerful enough to cripple, perhaps even kill, before they could react. The image of Leonidas’ chest bursting beneath his blade flickered across his mind.

But then what?

The instant he returned to the flow of time, the others would strike. Five ArchDeities, all empowered by the Scarlet Formation, attacking with their full might at once. Even for him, the risk was near-suicidal. His bloodlust screamed at him to act, but his reason whispered caution.

And reason prevailed.

A cold, meaningful light flickered in his eyes. There was still one path—one that would let him feed his wrath without dooming himself. Yet even as that idea formed, Azazel stilled his mind, his master’s words rising from the depths of memory.

”Time is the ultimate weapon. Time defeats everything. Wait for the right moment to strike, and even crushing defeat can be turned into overwhelming victory.”

Azazel drew in a long, steady breath. His aura slowly retracted, compressed, refined. The fury in his chest was crushed into a single ember and buried deep within his soul.

”I am Time,” he whispered. ”I am Sloth. I am the one who waits.”

His stance shifted.

Not to aggression, not to defense—but to stillness. Floating in the air above the Radiant Soul Continent, Azazel folded his legs beneath him. His blade rested across his knees. His eyes closed. His aura stabilized into silence.

Yet that silence was more suffocating than any scream.

By channeling the might of the Dark Tree beneath him, Azazel anchored himself to the land. He did not move. He did not raise his hand. He did not strike. And yet his mere presence was enough to halt the advance of the Scarlet Kingdom.

The formation glowed behind them, their army burned with momentum, but not a single step was taken into the Radiant Soul Continent. For all their numbers, all their power, they could not ignore the figure that sat waiting at the border.

Just as Cain held the Imperium of Time at bay in SilentHeart, so too did Azazel hold the Scarlet Kingdom at bay here. Two sovereigns at the pinnacle of existence. Two forces so absolute that their stillness carried the weight of armies.

The message was clear.

This war would not end quickly.

It would be bloody. It would be merciless. And before it ended, the Everstrife Empyrean World would be drowned in fire and scarlet light.