The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order-Chapter 1815: The Ancient One

The Lord of Ages stood at the very core of his Eternal Kingdom, his wounded form immersed within an immense ocean of cosmic energies and pure Origin Power. He utilized these abundant resources to mend his battered body, seeking to restore the grievous injuries inflicted by the Dragon Empress, Tiamat.

Despite being bound in this place, isolated from the outside world by the necessity of his recovery, the Lord of Ages had not lost track of the events unfolding across his domain. Each passing day ignited a deeper, fiercer rage within his heart.

He clearly perceived how the strongest Prima Deities under his protection had suffered catastrophic losses. Their mighty Divine Kingdoms, nurtured carefully over millions of years, had been ruthlessly devoured by Cain’s terrifying Scarlet Throne. freewebnøvel_com

These powerful beings, who had diligently provided substantial contributions to his Eternal Kingdom, now bore deep resentment against him. They had placed their trust and wealth under his rule precisely because he promised safety and protection, yet now they had become the primary victims of the Eternal War.

Not all Divine Kingdoms within his domain faced destruction. However, the Lord of Ages recognized instantly that this mercy was merely a strategic maneuver by Tiamat, designed to attract the wavering Prima Deities to her side.

The strongest among them felt betrayed and furious, while the others cautiously evaluated their options, deciding whether loyalty to the Lord of Ages was still beneficial or if aligning themselves with the winning side would better secure their futures.

Of course, none of these Prima Deities openly voiced their inner turmoil, but it was clear to the Lord of Ages that the longer this situation persisted, the worse things would become for him.

If matters had not already reached a dire enough state, what occurred next plunged the Lord of Ages into an unprecedented fury. Massive towers materialized around his Eternal Kingdom—five colossal statues, shaped in the form of dragons, each radiating a different elemental glow. The moment they activated, these draconic statues began exerting a terrifying devouring force, siphoning the energies of the Eternal Kingdom itself!

"Tiamat! You despicable bitch!" the Lord of Ages roared furiously, his voice shaking the very foundations of his Eternal Kingdom.

The speed at which these statues drained his power was frighteningly efficient. Though it would still take centuries to crack the fundamental foundation of his realm, Tiamat did not need to obliterate it entirely. She merely had to weaken it sufficiently, tilting the scales decisively in her favor, at which point she could lead an overwhelming army directly into his weakened Eternal Kingdom and finish him off.

"Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT!" Even an ArchDeity’s formidable willpower had limits, and now the Lord of Ages felt himself succumbing to overwhelming desperation.

His uncontrollable emotions were not merely caused by the severe damage he had sustained; the true source of his anguish was the inability to see any viable path out of this perilous predicament. Alone, he couldn’t repair the damage or reverse the tide. No other ArchDeity in the Second Realm would come to his aid—after all, no one would willingly help a loser.

"It seems you’re in a bit of trouble, young man."

A voice resonated softly yet distinctly throughout the chamber, startling the Lord of Ages so severely that his entire body trembled involuntarily.

Few beings could legitimately call the Lord of Ages a "young man." However, this entity had existed long before the Great War itself—a being so ancient and formidable that his true name had long vanished into the mists of forgotten history. Not even an ArchDeity like the Lord of Ages was qualified to know his real identity.

Those who served him referred to him only as "Master," while everyone else cautiously referred to him as "The Ancient One."

Taking a deep breath, the Lord of Ages composed himself with extreme difficulty. The Ancient One was not merely incredibly powerful; he was also a notoriously cunning manipulator whose schemes and plots spanned the entirety of the Crimson World.

Although the Lord of Ages had occasionally cooperated with the Ancient One, it had always remained strictly transactional. Fully aligning oneself with such a being undoubtedly provided extraordinary benefits, but also carried the ever-present risk of becoming a disposable pawn in some unknowable scheme.

"Are you here because of Sarun?" the Lord of Ages asked cautiously. He had not spent much time reflecting upon the death of the Star Man yet, but he was no fool. Sarun had been an immensely talented Prima Deity with the potential to ascend to ArchDeity status, and his demise surely had displeased the Ancient One.

Surprisingly, The Ancient One chuckled faintly, a sound seemingly devoid of any genuine concern. "Oh, Sarun... I’d actually forgotten about him already. My old mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be."

Hearing this dismissive response, the Lord of Ages could not help but shake his head internally. Attempting to guess at the Ancient One’s true thoughts or motivations was an exercise in futility. Instead, he remained silent, awaiting whatever this powerful entity intended to say next.

Without making him wait, the Ancient One continued calmly, "You now stand at a crossroads, young man. On one path, you will find death: the absolute end of your existence, watching helplessly as everything you’ve built is devoured to fuel someone else’s ascension."

The Ancient One paused briefly, allowing the weight of his words to fully sink in, then continued gently, yet firmly, "And along the other path, you will find me."

The Lord of Ages exhaled slowly, feeling profound despair wash over him. Every ounce of resistance drained from his body, replaced by bitter resignation. Once proud and fiercely independent, he recognized clearly that he had reached a point where defiance meant annihilation.

For the first time in countless ages, The Lord of Ages’ knees slowly bent, and he lowered his proud head, surrendering completely to the inevitability of his circumstances. In a voice that trembled slightly, betraying both resignation and surrender, he spoke a single word.

"Master."

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