"Prepare yourselves. Prepare your armies and your people, and be ready for my summons."

The command rolled through the chamber like thunder, carrying the weight of divine will. The nine ArchDeities lowered their heads in solemn unison before vanishing from the Scarlet Crown, each of them burning with resolve.

They did not yet know the nature of the coming campaign, nor which force they would face next, but that mattered little. The word of the Scarlet King was enough.

If Cain commanded them to storm the gates of heaven or descend into the depths of hell, they would obey without hesitation. Their loyalty was forged in flame, and their conviction shone brighter than the suns.

When they were gone, silence fell over the vast crimson hall.

Cain exhaled slowly, a rare calm arising in his heart.

Ruling the Scarlet Kingdom required more than issuing decrees to a handful of elites, but in truth, this was all Cain needed to do personally. The system he had forged was efficient and precise.

The King directed the Council and Generals, who then commanded the myriad ranks below them, spreading his will through every province and sector like veins through a living body.

It was a machine of order and purpose, flawless, so long as those in charge were competent.

If they were not… it would become a nightmare of corruption and decay.

For now, however, everything functioned as it should.

Cain closed his eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, he stood upon the Third Level of the Samsara Arsenal Module.

He then moved to an isolated location, hidden by a force, and as he entered, he saw a vault filled with spatial containers, each of them filled with mountains upon mountains of evil treasures. However, that was not the most important thing inside the vault.

It was the people.

Hundreds of Prima Deities floated in suspended animation, their eyes blank, their souls sealed within their bodies. Even more shocking, two ArchDeities stood among them, frozen like statues.

These were the spoils of conquest, the living treasures captured by his ArchDeities during the years Cain had been away in the Crimson World. Of course, they were far from the only evil people in the Everstrife Empyrean World, but the weaker ones, millions of corrupted Divine Cultivators, had already been offered to the Scarlet Throne, their souls converted into fuel for the ever-hungry stars.

Cain raised a hand, and reality rippled. All the sealed treasures and captives vanished into streams of light as he brought them toward the Samsara Sacrificial Ground.

Without hesitation, Cain cast the treasures and prisoners into the purple flame. Their bodies ignited in a chorus of screams that lasted only a breath before dissolving into radiant mist.

The flames burned brighter and brighter, releasing waves of Soul Enlightenment Mist that poured through the realm, nourishing the cultivation of all who trained within it. Above, the ceiling shimmered as Fortune gathered in torrents.

Though the rank of the sacrificed was not extraordinary, their sheer number made the ritual powerful beyond expectation.

Cain smiled faintly as he observed the result.

"It's almost a third of what I gained from Legion's living remains," he murmured, impressed by the efficiency.

As he focused on the flow of Fortune, a single desire arose in his mind. He had long theorized that intention could influence how Fortune behaved. Watching now as nearly ninety-five percent of the harvested energy was transformed into Merit, he knew his hypothesis was correct.

But the triumph was short-lived.

Without warning, waves of agony tore through his body as the Merit fused with his body.

The Samsara Seal activated, its merciless power carving runic lines of pain across his flesh and soul. The experience was excruciating, a suffering that transcended comprehension.

No matter how many times Cain endured it, the torment never dulled. His mind trembled under the onslaught, his nerves burning as if his essence was being rewritten from within.

And yet, beneath the pain, there was progress.

When it finally ended, he straightened, breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his skin. The intricate golden runes of the Samsara Seal had expanded further across his chest, glowing faintly before fading.

"One step closer," he whispered, his eyes flashing with determination.

This was one of his greatest goals, to complete the Samsara Runic Set and awaken the Samsara Immortal Body.

He already possessed unmatched defense. His Primordial Body could not be harmed by ArchDeities, and his Necroskin armor was the strongest in the world. If he could forge a body without weakness, he would truly become unstoppable.

Taking a deep breath, Cain steadied himself. The pain receded, leaving behind clarity. He lifted his gaze toward the golden sphere of light floating above the sacrificial ground. It pulsed once, then shattered, revealing a new Gift.

A sword descended from the ceiling, shifting constantly between light and shadow, its form never the same for more than a heartbeat. Its presence filled the air with divine harmony, the resonance of opposites unified.

Even though the Gift had used only a fragment of the Fortune he gathered, barely five percent, it had still produced an ArchDeity-class treasure. The sword's aura radiated balance and power, capable of elevating any Prime Deity to unimaginable heights.

Cain turned it in his hand, studying the shifting glow along the blade. It was a magnificent weapon, but too weak for him.

He considered sending it to the treasury, but then a word crossed his mind.

"Training."

For so long, Cain had lived in a state of constant battle and purpose, moving from one campaign to the next, fulfilling mission after mission. He had been in a ceaseless race against time, striving to grow strong enough to protect his people and carve a home for them in the universe.

But now… he had succeeded.

For the first time in centuries, the Scarlet King could breathe. He could take a moment to reflect, not just to fight.

With that thought, he left the Samsara Arsenal Module and emerged once more above the Scarlet Crown.

Cain closed his eyes, extending his senses outward. It took only a second to find who he was looking for.

A flash of light, and he vanished.

When he reappeared, it was within the heart of a raging storm. Thunder howled around him, the wind cutting like blades. Below, a lone figure stood upon the edge of a shattered cliff, wielding a sword that danced through rain and lightning.

The man was lean but powerful, his movements fluid and precise. Each strike of his blade radiated elemental mastery, intertwining into a perfect symphony of destruction and grace.

The man's eyes were sharp and unwavering, focused on the raging storm before him. Each motion of his blade cut through the wind with precision born from relentless training. Though his cultivation had reached the Peak of Divine Transcendence, a level hardly remarkable within the might of the Scarlet Kingdom, the strength in his gaze revealed something greater, a will unyielding, the spirit of a warrior who never ceased striving to ascend.

His name was Kober, son of the Diamond Saint Duke, and disciple of the Scarlet King.

That final title alone inspired awe and reverence wherever he went, shocking even Prima Deities. Yet every time Kober heard it, a complicated smile tugged at his lips.

Yes, he was the disciple of the Scarlet King. The man himself had taught him a powerful cultivation technique when they first met, a gift that had elevated him beyond his peers. But after that moment, their paths had scarcely crossed.

Even the second part of the technique, the continuation of his path, had not come from Cain's own hand but was sent through a third party.

It was disappointing, perhaps, but Kober never let bitterness take root. From the beginning, the Scarlet King had warned him: "I am not a good teacher." There had been no deceit in those words, and Kober had long since accepted them.

Instead of resentment, he had chosen focus. Every breath, every swing of his sword, was a step toward perfection. He did not chase favor or titles—only strength.

For nearly a month, he had been training within the heart of the storm, a tempest infused with the might of a Prima Deity. Each clash of lightning honed his instincts; each howl of wind forged his resolve. Then, without warning, the storm froze. The lightning halted mid-strike. The wind was silenced.

A stillness deeper than death filled the air.

Then the tempest parted, revealing a clear sky, and upon it descended a figure robed in scarlet, his aura vast enough to bear the weight of worlds.

Kober's eyes widened before he dropped to one knee, bowing his head low.

"Disciple humbly greets his Master."

Cain regarded him quietly, a faint, complicated smile crossing his face.

He had truly neglected his duties. The burden of rule had always been heavy, leaving no time, but excuses did not suit him.

He was here now. And he would make it right.

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