The abominations of the Root and the Curse Eaters alike felt a chill run through their beings as they gazed upon that sphere. The sheer density of energy it contained was enough to threaten everything around it, a concentrated force of destruction that could erase the life of an Alpha Omega Overgod in a second.

As every gaze turned toward the Scarlet King, a single, undeniable realization took hold across the battlefield: this was only the beginning.

Cain inhaled deeply, and as he did, his Chaos Wings flared with overwhelming power, their vast span piercing into the fabric of reality itself. Through them, he drew upon the boundless strength of the universe, channeling it into his being with absolute control. His presence alone caused space to tremble, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried a resonance that echoed across existence.

"Hear my call," he declared, each word infused with a force that rippled through the deepest layers of reality. "All those who perished in this war. All those who watched their friends and families fall before closing their eyes. All those whose hatred binds them, denying them their final rest."

His scarlet eyes blazed brighter, igniting like suns as his voice rose into a thunderous roar.

"Chaos of the Underworld: Hades’s Summon!"

At once, the universe itself seemed to shudder. Under the stunned gazes of every lifeform present, faint silhouettes began to emerge across the void. At first, they were indistinct, barely more than flickering shadows, but as they multiplied, their forms grew clearer. Though their individual features remained blurred, there was no doubt about their origin.

They were the fallen.

The spirits of those who had died in the war—warriors of the Six Sacred Races—answered the call of the Scarlet King. Drawn by his will, they manifested once more, not for life, but for vengeance. One by one, they surged forward, streaming into the growing sphere of power hovering before Cain.

It was a sight both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Countless souls poured into the sphere, merging with it, their rage and grief fueling its expansion. Its power swelled with every passing second, becoming denser, heavier, more unstable, until even reality itself began to warp around it.

The warriors of the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe could not help but clench their fists as they witnessed the procession. Pain surged through their hearts as they recognized those lost to the war—their comrades, their friends, their family. These were the heroes who had made the ultimate sacrifice, and now, even in death, they returned to fight once more.

As more souls gathered, Cain’s own emotions surged alongside them. Rage, sorrow, and an unyielding determination burned within him, growing with each passing instant. Finally, he roared again, pouring everything he had into the sphere.

His life force.

His soul force.

His will.

The sphere responded violently.

A deafening explosion of pressure erupted outward as its power escalated to unimaginable heights. The energy contained within it became so immense that it began to bend reality, forming a golden event horizon around its core. Space warped, gravity twisted, and even time seemed to falter in its presence.

Blood streamed from Cain’s eyes as the strain pushed his body to its limits. Behind him, his Alter Ego trembled, its essence being drawn into the sphere as well. This was not merely an attack—it was a sacrifice.

Half of his life force.

Half of his soul force.

Half of his will.

All of it was poured into that single construct.

At last, the sphere reached its peak.

It glowed with a fusion of sky-blue and scarlet light, its surface shimmering with cosmic energy while a golden event horizon encased it like a crown. Cain’s body trembled under the cost he had paid, yet his eyes remained steady, filled only with ironclad determination.

He clenched his hand around the sphere.

Its form shifted instantly.

The energy condensed, elongated, and stabilized, transforming into a weapon—a spear several meters long, its radiant blue exterior encasing a blazing scarlet core. The moment Cain grasped it, waves of power erupted outward, shaking the battlefield.

He could feel everything within it.

The fury of the fallen.

The agony of loss.

The unyielding desire for vengeance.

Rather than resisting it, he embraced it, allowing it to sharpen his resolve even further. His gaze swept across the battlefield as his wings flared once more, and in the next instant, he vanished.

He reappeared like a golden shooting star, moving through the Endless River of the Flow, his speed surpassing all limits.

Dread spread instantly among the enemy ranks.

The abominations of the Root and the Curse Eaters alike felt it—a deep, instinctive fear that they could not suppress. The power contained within that spear was absolute. It was enough to kill any one of them.

Even Nito, the strongest among them, could not remain unaffected. A solemn expression overtook his face. He understood the truth better than anyone: if that spear struck him directly, there was a real possibility that he—and all his aspects—would be annihilated.

Every Alpha Omega Overgod present felt the same urge.

To flee.

To escape as far as possible from the Scarlet King.

But they could not.

The warriors of the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance moved in unison, blocking every path of retreat. They did not know who Cain’s target would be, but they would ensure that no enemy could evade it. Even Noah, the Crimson Exarch, wore a faint, cold smile as he subtly sealed off escape routes, forcing the battlefield into a deadly cage.

Frustration flickered in Nito’s eyes, but he pushed it aside. Logic dictated that Cain would aim for the greatest threat—himself. Yet Nito was not without confidence. There was a reason he had been chosen to lead the invasion.

Still, the situation was dire.

Robuke, Mikela, and the Curse Eaters found themselves trapped in a paradox. To survive, they needed to focus entirely on Cain and the incoming attack. Yet doing so left them vulnerable to the relentless assaults of the Alliance, whose warriors seized every opening to strike.

There was no escape.

Only survival.

And even that was uncertain.

Cain’s speed was overwhelming. In a heartbeat, he reached the battlefield, his presence dominating the void. The Stars of Origin on his forehead ignited, amplifying his physical strength to unimaginable levels as he drew his arm back, channeling every ounce of power into the coming strike.

Silence fell.

Every eye widened, fixed upon him, waiting to see who would face the spear forged from the souls of the fallen and the very essence of the Scarlet King.

"Die."

The word echoed across the void, heavier than any war cry.

Cain released the spear.

It shot forward like a meteor of annihilation, tearing through space-time itself and leaving behind a trail of shattered reality and warped gravity. Shockwaves rippled outward, sending ArchDeities flying and forcing even Alpha Omega Overgods to brace against its passage.

All eyes followed its trajectory.

They expected it to strike one of the great enemies—Mikela, Robuke, or perhaps even Nito himself.

But it did not.

The spear tore across the battlefield, bypassing them all, its path unwavering as it surged toward its true target.

The Worlds of the Root.