Chapter 1831: A castle in infinity
Book 19 - Setting the world on fire
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There stood a castle—no, a fortress—so vast it could be mistaken for a continent floating in an ocean of cosmic golden plasma so pure and powerful that it stood above any form of energy one could find in the Everstrife Empyrean World.
Its twisted spires rose for countless kilometers, its foundations sank into dimensions beyond the reach of common sense, and its very presence warped the reality around it. But it was the walls that truly unsettled those who beheld them.
They were not made of stone or steel, but something far more alien. Solidified negative psychic force pulsed through them, an amalgam of dread, despair, and disciplined malevolence.
The blackness of the walls wasn't just absence of light; it devoured all color from the surroundings, as if reality itself recoiled from contact. Streams of psychic pressure radiated outward in rolling waves—so dense, so intense, that any ordinary lifeform exposed to it for more than a few minutes would spiral into irreversible madness.
And yet, for those who walked within, it was different.
To them, the waves of dark energy were warm. Nurturing. Invigorating. Like basking under a nourishing sun designed to feed not only the body but the soul.
There was a paradox woven into the very essence of this place: it was terrifying, yet controlled; monstrous, yet precise. The negative psychic power was not wild or chaotic—it was shaped, chained, and governed by a mind of absolute authority. A being who did not simply master darkness, but embodied its order.
Within these halls, the unthinkable occurred with casual regularity.
A Godslayer Human, tall and clad in radiant bone-white armor, walked shoulder to shoulder with an Inferno Daemon wreathed in a cloak of flame. They laughed as they strolled through corridors of agony and power. Behind them trailed an Anima Machinarium, and beside her a member of the Atrox Immortus, cloaked in ghostly silence.
It was no anomaly. These halls teemed with beings from both Light and Dark races, all walking without conflict, without suspicion, without prejudice. This was not like the fractured cities of the Gu Sect, where hatred simmered beneath the surface. Here, there was unity. Strange, eerie, but real. An order forged through something far stronger than tolerance, the absolute absence of any form of prejudice.
The strangeness did not end there. All of them—be they Godslayer, Behemoth, Daemon, Atrox, Anima or Eldritch—shared one haunting trait: their skin. It was pure white, drained of all pigment. As if the power that suffused this place had bleached their flesh and souls alike, branding them with its mark.
These were not common cultivators. Even the weakest among them could make the Crown Prince of the Golden Star Kingdom seem like a common foot soldier. The sheer level of talent concentrated here was enough to warp the destiny of empires. And still, they were only the outer circle.
One could only imagine the power that dwelled at the heart of the black castle.
...
In one of the countless chambers deep within the fortress, a man sat alone.
He wore a robe darker than void, etched with white spirals that seemed to twist and move as if alive. Before him hovered a virtual screen—an ethereal portal broadcasting an image across an unimaginable gulf of space and time.
On the other side of the screen stood a figure that Cain Laurifer would recognize instantly.
Divine Calamity.
"It's been over ten years," the robed man said, voice soft—too soft. "And still, you've failed to kill the one born of the Taboo Race."
He did not shout. He did not raise his tone. But the weight behind his voice made the air within the virtual screen thrum with pressure. Divine Calamity, one of the most powerful ArchDeities of the Everstrife Empyrean World, trembled.
He did not lift his gaze. He did not dare.
Behind the calm tone was a storm—a volcano on the brink of eruption, fury so tightly coiled it made the stillness unbearable.
"If, the next time we speak, you do not offer me his life…" the man paused, his words dropping like boulders into a silent abyss. "Then I'll take yours instead."
Divine Calamity's breath caught. Fear raced down his spine like ice. He had faced gods and demons, carved through armies, and brought nations to ruin—but in that moment, he felt small. Like a child who had disappointed a being whose patience was not infinite.
"I assure you, Master," he said with a forced steadiness. "I will find Cain Laurifer and kill him. There will be no mistake this time."
He hesitated.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asked the question that had haunted him for years.
"Master… could you grant me the exact location of Cain Laurifer once more?"
He bowed deeply as he spoke, every syllable drenched in dread. For years he had searched. He had spent fortunes, summoned seers, scoured realms. But Cain had vanished, leaving no thread behind. Divine Calamity had even considered threatening members of the Gu Sect to lure him out—but after extensive analysis, he realized something that made his blood run cold.
Cain didn't care.
To him, the Gu Sect wasn't kin. They were pawns. And pawns, when sacrificed, did not stir kings.
No one—no one—in the entire realm seemed to have a connection strong enough to draw Cain from hiding.
And so, despite his terror, despite the risk, he asked.
But his Master's response was instant—and final.
"Madness is doing the same thing again and again while expecting a different outcome."
The robed man raised one hand and casually waved it, dismissing the screen. Its final image was the pleading face of Divine Calamity, locked in frozen fear.
Then the screen vanished, leaving only silence.
The man sighed—a deep, tired exhale.
He pulled back the hood of his robe.
His face was a blend of two races—contradictory yet seamless. The crimson horns of an Inferno Daemon, combined with the sharp features of a Godslayer Human. He was a hybrid!
The man who commanded Divine Calamity like a pet, was something that would defy logic and incite endless wrath in the Everstrife Empyrean World.