The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2120: The end of the Third Ring

When Bradley saw the village blocking his path, there was no hesitation in his eyes, no flicker of mercy or contemplation. His expression was carved from cold conviction.

Without a word, he raised his hand — and the army of light forged from his own soul surged forward like a tidal wave of annihilation.

In less than ten seconds, the settlement was gone.

The soldiers tore through the village with mechanical precision, blades cutting through flesh and stone alike. Screams echoed for only a heartbeat before they vanished into silence. When the light faded, nothing remained — no survivors, no resistance, not even the faint hum of life.

Zero casualties. Complete destruction.

Bradley surveyed the carnage impassively. To him, this was not cruelty. It was efficiency.

Yet through Resonance, he could feel the discord pulsing faintly through his ranks. A handful of his soul-forged soldiers — barely a few dozen among thousands — wavered. Their hearts trembled, weighed down by guilt and revulsion at what they had just done.

They were a tiny fraction — less than one-tenth of one percent — but Bradley knew that emotion, like rot, could spread. Doubt was infection. It had to be cut out immediately.

He gave the order without hesitation.

The formation shifted. The army closed ranks around the trembling soldiers. In perfect unison, the guilty were forced to their knees. No plea for forgiveness was uttered; no mercy was given.

In a single motion, their comrades’ blades fell — and the air filled with the brief, metallic whisper of execution.

The act was swift, merciless, absolute.

As the heads of his own soul-forged reflections fell to the crystalline ground, Bradley felt a surge of pain pierce his chest — sharp and searing, like molten iron driven into his flesh. After all, those soldiers were fragments of his own soul; their destruction reverberated within him.

He staggered for only an instant. Then the agony subsided, replaced by a rush of icy calm.

A slow, almost satisfied smile crossed his face.

He could feel it — the remaining soldiers had become sharper, colder, purer. Their hesitation had burned away with their weaker brethren. What remained was discipline without question, purpose without compassion.

Bradley exhaled. "Perfection," he murmured.

There was no single correct path through the Third Ring. Every being faced its trials according to its own truth. For some, progress came through empathy or unity. For others, like the Neo-Angel, through purity of will and the excision of weakness.

With renewed determination, Bradley turned toward the horizon. His wings of light unfurled behind him, and he pointed forward.

"Advance."

The army moved as one — a storm of radiance devouring the crystal plains. Bradley had no interest in true enlightenment. His mastery of the Flow was not an end but a means. All that mattered was the Crimson Exarch’s victory and the extinction of the Life Path within the Sacred Dimension of the Red King.

---

Months passed.

Elsewhere, the Scarlet King, along with Alita and Elder Oni, pressed ever deeper into the mirrored expanse of the Third Ring. The journey was relentless. Their soul-forged legions faced trials of endurance and spirit at every turn.

It was not merely battles they faced, but environments designed to test the will itself.

At times, they traversed endless deserts of light where the heat drew the life from every breath, forcing the soldiers to rely on one another to stay upright. At other times, they marched through storm layers of acid rain that hissed upon their armor, testing their discipline and unity.

Each new terrain carried emotional trials as potent as physical ones.

During the desert phase, the soldiers’ spirits frayed under exhaustion and thirst. Cain had to sense their despair through Resonance and feed into them courage and hope. During the storms, fear and panic spread like wildfire, and he had to anchor their emotions, forging stability from chaos.

There were bandits, rival armies, illusions. Every encounter demanded not strength of blade, but command of emotion.

At each turn, Resonance became their compass.

When they reached crossroads shrouded in mist, with no path visibly safer than the others, Cain guided his companions to silence their minds and listen.

Among the faint threads of their soldiers’ emotions, there was always one that carried a feeling of safety, a quiet pulse of rightness amid the turmoil. That was the path they took, time and again.

The deeper they ventured, the more the challenge refined them. Each step demanded greater precision, greater empathy, greater control. The Flow became more intricate, the emotional symphony of thousands harder to read — yet their attunement grew stronger in equal measure.

Weeks bled into months until, at last, the crystal expanse gave way to a colossal structure in the distance — a fortress, vast and immovable.

Along its walls stood tens of thousands of enemy soldiers. Gleaming weapons were drawn, siege engines humming with power. At the highest spire, a commander watched them approach, a cruel smile of triumph etched across his face.

Alita and Oni exchanged wary glances. "How do we proceed?" Oni asked, his voice low.

Cain said nothing for a long moment. The golden lotus on his forehead blazed, eleven petals now fully unfurled. His eyes gleamed like twin suns, filled not with fury, but with transcendent calm.

When he spoke, his voice resonated through their souls.

"Resonance is not merely the detection of emotion in the present. It is the perception of its source — and its future. To sense what another will feel in the next heartbeat. To foresee how they will react to a stimulus. And, through that knowledge, to break them... or raise them."

His words struck deep. Alita and Oni felt something stir within their souls. Cain’s insight wasn’t just instruction — it was revelation, woven directly into the essence of their being.

Then, without further hesitation, the Scarlet King lifted his hand.

His army — now three times larger than when they had begun — advanced. Every soul he had encountered on the path had joined him willingly, bound by shared purpose. Their armor glowed with scarlet light; their hearts burned with unity and unwavering resolve.

They moved openly, no formation, no shield.

The commander atop the fortress sneered. He barked orders, shouting for his soldiers to fire.

But no arrow flew. No spell was cast.

The enemy’s hands trembled. Their hearts quaked. The sheer determination of Cain’s army — the overwhelming Resonance of their unified will — crashed against them like a divine tide. The emotion was too great, too absolute.

Fear melted into awe. Awe into surrender.

And then, one by one, the soldiers upon the fortress walls lowered their weapons. Their armor shimmered, shifting hue — from silver and black to radiant scarlet.