The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order - Chapter 1740

Chapter 1740: Cain’s plan
Meylin’s eyes were cold, filled with a sharp, unwavering killing intent as she gazed up at the colossal stronghold that loomed at the heart of the Bloodmar Continent. It was an impenetrable fortress built atop a mountain so massive it stretched across tens of thousands of kilometers, its peaks clawing into the heavens like the talons of some ancient god.

Under her leadership, the Scarlet Crusade had seized control of the entire periphery of the continent. Yet none of their victories would matter if they failed in the most crucial task: planting the Dark Root in the very heart of Bloodmar. Without that, the unification of the Crimson World would remain incomplete.

The sharp, flapping sound of turbulent winds echoed through the high-altitude battlefield. Meylin turned just in time to see a titanic dragon descend beside her.

His body was forged of elemental fury—earth, lightning, wrath, and pride melded into a singular, awe-inspiring form that radiated the presence of a living cataclysm. His wings alone could cover entire mountain ranges, and his scales shimmered with ancient power.

There was no mistaking this creature. This was Bahamut, the leader of the Tiamat Sect, an entity born of unmatched resolve.

Before Cain had departed from the Crimson World, Bahamut had already reached the Peak of the Immortal Dragon Path and stood tall at the summit of the Void Eclipse Level System. Yet despite having reached the peak of the Soul Realm, he was still able to grow stronger.

By devouring millions of powerful enemies during the course of the crusade, Bahamut had refined his body, soul, and talent to an even greater height—evolving in a way only monsters of ancient legend could.

The massive dragon turned toward Meylin and spoke in a deep, solemn tone.

“My lady, you’ve done an extraordinary job guiding the Crusade,” he rumbled. “Better than I could have, even with all my millennia of experience. But something needs to change.”

There was sincere respect and admiration in his voice. Meylin was more than just Cain’s chosen partner; she was a powerhouse in her own right—the most powerful warrior in the Scarlet Crusade. A master diplomat who had swayed entire continents through the sheer force of her will, she had earned her place not by favor, but by unrelenting power and intellect.

And yet, even her strength and cunning had proven insufficient in the face of the challenge they now faced. The current battle had stagnated into a brutal war of attrition.

Even though those branded with the Mark of Abaddon were nearly unkillable thanks to the infinite energy supplied by the Eternal Ascendant Network, the lower ranks were suffering.

Casualties were mounting—not enough to doom the campaign, but enough to raise concern. If the Crusade appeared weakened, the other continents they had already conquered might begin to question the Scarlet King’s might. Worse, they could rebel, chop down the newly grown Dark Trees, and unravel everything.

Meylin understood this better than anyone and gave Bahamut a silent nod. But inwardly, even she was at a loss for what to do next.

“Does everyone hear me?”

The unexpected voice echoed within both their minds, and their eyes widened—glowing with awe and elation.

“Cain!”

“My Lord!”

It had been years since they’d heard his voice. While others were unaware, Meylin and Bahamut knew the truth—that Cain had not just been in cultivation, but that his soul and ego had transcended to another universe entirely. The fact that he was able to communicate with them now meant only one thing.

The Scarlet King had returned.

Of course, Cain had returned to the Crimson World some time ago, but he had chosen to remain silent, not wishing to distract his army while immersed in his final stage of cultivation. Now, though, he had revealed himself.

“Excellent,” Cain said, his voice resonating with joy before shifting to a serious, commanding tone. “Even at this distance, our communication is stable. I’ve been monitoring the state of the war. It appears you’ve reached an impasse.”

A grim expression clouded both Meylin’s and Bahamut’s faces. The Mark of Abaddon had given them a divine-level devouring ability that greatly enhanced their cultivation. The Eternal Ascendant Network supplied them with endless energy. And yet, they had failed to deliver a decisive blow.

“I have a way to end this stalemate once and for all.”

The words sent a jolt of shock through Meylin and Bahamut. They knew Cain well enough to understand that he would never speak lightly. If he claimed to have a solution, it meant he was confident—utterly so.

The two listened intently as he laid out his plan. At first, their expressions turned even more serious. The strategy was bold, audacious, and risky beyond belief. If it succeeded, they would seize control of Bloodmar and finally be able to plant the Dark Root before the end of the month. But if it failed… it would spell disaster. The unification of the First Realm of the Crimson World would collapse.

And yet, neither Bahamut nor Meylin hesitated. Without fear or doubt, they nodded.

“Good. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, Cain ended the communication link.

Meylin and Bahamut exchanged a glance, both of them nodding in silent agreement before sending out a command through the Mark of Abaddon. Within moments, a summons spread across the Scarlet Crusade.

The most powerful masters—those branded by the Mark—gathered in the Demon King Castle. A council of war was held, and Cain’s plan was unveiled.

Gasps filled the chamber. Many of the commanders voiced their concerns. The plan wasn’t merely dangerous—it was nearly unthinkable. But none of them dared to outright defy Cain’s will. The Scarlet King was not a man—they all knew—he was a force. And his vision was not to be questioned.

Each warrior, general, and strategist present eventually gave a solemn nod of affirmation.

The first phase of the plan was simple in execution but monumental in implication.

Meylin immediately issued a full retreat of the troops currently laying siege to the fortress at the core of the Bloodmar Continent. It was a tactical withdrawal—not of surrender, but of repositioning.

Then, flanked by Bahamut and Lady Alume, she moved forward.

….

The sudden retreat of the Scarlet Crusade’s armies sent waves of confusion rippling through the forces stationed within the Blood and Silver Moons Fortress. Soldiers and commanders alike stood stunned, their eyes scanning the battlefield in disbelief. The tension only deepened as they watched the Triumvirate of the Crusade—its three strongest warriors—advance alone, calmly approaching within a few thousand meters of the fortress walls. They stood there, motionless, exuding an eerie serenity that contradicted the chaos of war.

From the high walls of the fortress, Blood Princess Tania and Wolf Titan Hercule stepped forward, peering down at the scene unfolding below. They exchanged uncertain glances, trying to decipher the meaning behind such an unorthodox move. Why would the most powerful warriors of the Scarlet Crusade place themselves in such a vulnerable position?

Their questions were soon answered.

Meylin, clad in dark armor that shimmered like liquid obsidian under the crimson sky, took a single step forward. Her voice rang out with divine clarity, amplified not by magic but by sheer willpower, echoing across the battlefield and into every corner of the fortress.

“The Scarlet King is coming.”

Just five words—but their weight was cataclysmic.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Within the fortress, an invisible pressure bore down on the gathered troops—vampires, werewolves, beasts, and demons alike. Many shuddered. Some took unconscious steps back. Even Tania and Hercule, both Peak Void Eclipse Legends empowered by their patron Prima Deities, felt their hearts tighten and their fists clench involuntarily.

The Scarlet King.

Though none within Bloodmar had ever seen him in person, stories of his power had long reached even the farthest reaches of the Crimson World. To some, he was a myth. To others, a harbinger of doom. But to all, he was a symbol of unstoppable ascension.

They said he was born of the aether itself, forged by the World Will less than fifty years ago. From nothing, he had risen. His journey began in blood—defeating a Lich King’s undead army and ascending to the Legendary Realm by consuming millions of cursed souls. Afterward, he had crossed the endless sea and arrived on the Helix Continent, where he annihilated entire enemy legions upon landing.

It was there he gained the alliance of the dragon clans, negotiated with the ancient beings of flame and sky, and stood toe-to-toe against the avatar of a Prima Deity—the Sun Lord himself. Using a combination of raw power, flawless tactics, and a charisma that could shake nations, he allied with the Three Moons Saintesses and shattered the Sun Church, a divine empire that had ruled unchallenged for millions of years.

And he did it in a single day.

That act alone should have brought divine wrath from the gods—especially those who supported the dragons and saintesses. But instead of punishment, those celestial beings had offered him their respect.

Some even whispered that they feared him.

Now, that same mythical figure was coming to Bloodmar.

He wasn’t coming to negotiate. He wasn’t coming to surrender.

He was coming to conquer.