Chapter 673: Gods and Gods
Sunlight fell through the cracks in the clouds.
Golden pillars of light pierced through the tattered dark clouds one after another, scattering across the sea surface.
The Raging Sea had already calmed. The areas previously covered by magma now only held a thin layer of grayish-black scum, gently rising and falling with the small waves.
The wind and rain had ceased.
The Red Iron Dragon hovered high in the sky.
Between his claws, the dark red sphere trembled violently. The surface of the sphere bulged constantly, revealing dense cracks. From within those cracks, molten light seeped out, as if it were struggling endlessly—yet it was being pressed back down again by an invisible force field.
"The entirety of an immortal lies within my claws."
Garoth lowered his head, gazing at the sphere of molten rock.
He could clearly sense that it still contained vigorous life, like a beast trapped in a cage, still trying to break through its prison.
He thought to himself.
Perhaps once he became more proficient with this technique, he could use it as a sealing method, specifically to deal with enemies that were difficult to completely destroy.
As for now...
A sharp gleam flashed in Garoth's eyes.
Then, the muscles in his arms bulged, his knuckles cracked, and his rose-gold claws sank deep into the sphere's surface. His talons clenched shut.
*Crack!*
The sphere burst apart.
Small, heavy fragments splattered in all directions, carving countless long arcs through the air as they fell downward.
But before those fragments could hit the sea surface, they were recaptured.
They paused mid-air for an instant, then reversed direction, pulled back by a force into Garoth's claws, re-condensing and compressing into a sphere once more.
Compared to before, its size had shrunk significantly, and the life force within it had been weakened and withered accordingly.
Garoth closed his claws again.
*Crunch.*
It broke once more.
Fragments scattered, were pulled back, re-condensed, and crushed again.
Round and round.
Garoth repeated this process until he crushed it for the third time.
Countless tiny, dim particles, like specks of dust, scattered from the broken sphere, floating above the sea surface like the ashes left behind after a fire.
Suddenly.
The dragon's body faltered for a moment.
The rose-gold radiance flickered across his scales before rapidly beginning to dim.
His form was also changing. His compressed body began to expand outward, section by section. His wing membranes slowly unfurled, and his shoulder width and waist circumference started swelling back to their original size...
The Dense Body state was dispelled.
The limit state brought by the Radiant State had reached its end at this moment.
His breathing became rapid. The weakness that came from suddenly being released after being compressed to the limit surged up layer by layer, and Garoth felt his limbs and wings grow unbearably heavy.
And at that very moment.
The molten rock, now nearly broken into particles, was not twisted and recaptured again.
They stopped in mid-air, drawing close to one another, fitting together, piecing together, gathering into a cluster.
The Lord of the Flame Prison's body condensed once more.
His skin was covered in cracks, his scorched-earth texture almost completely devoid of luster. His wings were tattered and broken, his aura weakened to the extreme. His left arm had vanished from the shoulder, leaving only a few wisps of dark red embers at the stump.
Scorched Domain could barely be maintained anymore.
Only a few scattered sparks remained around him, like dying embers after a torrential downpour.
Asalia raised his head, gazing at the Red Iron Dragon above.
In his eyes lingered the terror of being repeatedly crushed just moments ago.
But then, he took in the Red Iron Dragon's current state. The rose-gold radiance had faded completely, his form had returned to its original size, the luster of his scales had dulled significantly, and his breathing was heavy and rapid...
A ferocious grin spread across Asalia's cracked face.
"Haha..."
"I truly didn't expect you to fight me to this extent. I really, truly didn't expect it. But it's over now. Truly over."
He extended his remaining right arm, his claws clenching loosely.
The cracked greatsword of execution hummed once, breaking free from the solidified ridge of rock, arcing through the air into his hand.
"Victory belongs to me in the end."
The Lord of the Flame Prison let out a low roar and suddenly lunged forward.
His tattered wings flapped, and his body once again shot through the air. He raised the greatsword of execution above his head, the unquenchable flames on its blade gathering at the edge, dragging a short tail of light.
He charged at Garoth with all his might, expending every last shred of his remaining power.
But Garoth stood his ground.
Beneath the scales on his chest, his Combat Dragon Crystal was glowing.
The light seeped out through the gaps in his scales—deep, restrained, not blinding, but scorching hot.
This battle had stretched on until now. Asalia had hoped to end the fight in the shortest possible time, but he hadn't gotten his wish.
The longer the battle dragged on, the more the situation tilted in Garoth's favor.
Until now. Combat evolution had begun.
In the blink of an eye, a brand-new pattern of lines appeared on the Red Iron Dragon's scales.
They were like ash-powdered dark textures, spreading from the side of his neck to the roots of his wings. His horns were also changing. The originally straight backward-pointing antlers began to curve, branching inward, their tips bending slightly forward.
The black unquenchable flames still burned inside and outside the dragon's body.
But the burning pain they brought had almost completely vanished. The flames seemed to burn fiercely, but in the end, they only barely tempered the surface of his scales, unable to cause any real damage.
At the same time.
The Lord of the Flame Prison had already charged right up to him.
The greatsword of execution was raised high above his head, carrying the last of his strength as it came crashing down.
The Red Iron Dragon raised his right arm in a blocking posture.
The blade fell, slamming into the scales on his forearm.
But at the moment of contact, the sensation of penetration that the Lord of the Flame Prison expected never came.
The blade only broke through the surface layer of the scales before being stopped by a material so hard it defied belief, producing a dull, heavy impact sound.
The sword trembled violently. Cracks spread rapidly from the point of impact toward the hilt, and the entire greatsword was on the verge of shattering.
The Lord of the Flame Prison's pupils shrank sharply.
All he could see was, beneath Garoth's faceplate, a pair of vertical pupils calmly watching him.
Then, the Red Iron Dragon's right claw came down.
This blow landed squarely on the Lord of the Flame Prison's chest, with a solid, heavy impact.
*Boom!*
The Red Iron Dragon appeared weak, but that was an illusion.
Born from Death had been pushed nearly to its limit. All of his attributes surpassed normal levels, only slightly lower than during his Radiant State.
Under the heavy blow, the Lord of the Flame Prison's body was sent flying backward, like a ragged doll tossed into the sky.
His chest was nearly completely caved in, a massive, collapsed wound gaping open. Fragments of scorched-earth skin peeled away from the wound's edges, scattering in the air.
Scorched Domain!
The Lord of the Flame Prison let out a silent roar.
Most of the remaining flames around him extinguished. His body was partially restored, the wound on his chest knitting together a little. But his aura was even more wilted than before. His entire body was covered in deep cracks, like porcelain on the verge of shattering at any moment.
He hovered painfully in the air, staring at Garoth.
In his burning eye sockets, the flames flickered unsteadily.
"Why...?"
"Why won't you just die?"
"Scorched Domain, Unquenchable Flames, Scorching Tide... my Potency... how can you still be standing here?"
He stared fixedly at Garoth, his face no longer bearing the composure he'd shown when he first descended to the Material Plane. The flames in his eye sockets were filled with confusion, resentment, and a heavy sense of self-doubt.
Asalia couldn't accept this outcome.
He was born in the chaotic, dangerous Abyss. Every day was spent in the company of death. He'd endured countless slaughters to claim his seat as a lord, achieving immortality.
Along his path of growth, he had encountered countless enemies.
But no matter who it was, no matter how dire the situation, he was always the one left standing at the end.
Victory had always belonged to him.
And he'd always believed that he would keep winning, until he achieved his goal and stood at the pinnacle of the multiverse. This conviction had carried him through the darkest years of the Abyss, surviving countless brushes with death.
Until now.
In a daze, the Lord of the Flame Prison seemed to experience what his past opponents had felt.
They, too, had been arrogant, enjoying the glory of victory, believing they could keep winning, thinking they could climb higher peaks.
Until they met him.
And now, he had met another being even more arrogant than himself.
Sunlight spilled through the gaps in the clouds, gilding the Red Iron Dragon's scales with a golden edge, making his already imposing and majestic form even more dignified.
"This time... is it my turn?"
Asalia looked up at the dragon, unwilling to accept it.
At the same time, the Red Iron Dragon spread his right claw and slowly clenched it.
He stood high in the sky, his chest heaving, his breathing still heavy, seemingly not in peak condition. Yet his entire body exuded an invincible, unmatched aura of authority.
"Asalia, unfortunately, you cannot stop my evolution."
"But still, you have entertained me."
"As repayment, I will graciously grant you death."
His body leaned forward.
Garoth transformed into a grayish-red streak of light, rapidly closing in on the Lord of the Flame Prison.
Feeling the overwhelming sense of pressure rushing toward him, Asalia took a deep breath, suppressing the turbulent thoughts within him. He tried to calm himself, his mind beginning to race.
"A temporary setback doesn't mean true defeat."
"As long as I don't die here and retreat back to the Abyss, I still have a chance to make a comeback! The Abyssal Rift is nearby. If I can just get back..."
Asalia made a swift decision and chose to avoid the brunt of the attack.
*Whoosh!*
He gathered the remaining embers of his Scorched Domain into a straight line of fire.
The Lord of the Flame Prison's body suddenly blurred. A flickering trail extended along that line of fire, crossing a vast distance in an instant, like a dark red bolt of lightning streaking across the sky.
Garoth's attack missed.
He changed direction, his grayish-red form skimming across the sea surface, chasing after the fading line of fire.
Garoth's speed was definitely fast.
As he flapped his wings in pursuit of the Lord of the Flame Prison, the scenery before him turned into blurry patches of color, streaking past like countless lines.
At this extreme speed, time seemed to slow down.
But compared to the Lord of the Flame Prison, who was teleporting using his Potency, his speed was still a bit lacking.
The distance was widening.
Asalia dove headfirst toward the seabed without looking back.
His broken body plunged through the noticeably lower sea surface, splashing up a white wave. His dark red figure grew smaller and smaller in the deep waters.
At the same time, the Scorched Domain line of fire was extinguishing. With each section that went out, his displacement slowed by a fraction.
The distance between him and the Red Iron Dragon was rapidly closing.
This chase took place in less than a single breath.
In the blink of an eye, Asalia was already very close to the Abyssal Rift. The familiar aura of the Abyss brought him a sense of relief.
Just then.
A black shadow darted out from the edge of the rift.
It seemed to have been lurking and waiting there for a long time. Its entire body was covered in charred-black scales. A pair of dragon wings were folded tightly against its spine. Thick, sturdy fangs were exposed directly outside its upper and lower jaws.
A Dragon Demon. Barquilorn.
It faced the Lord of the Flame Prison, while also glancing at the approaching grayish-red dragon silhouette.
"Lord."
"I'll hold back the Scarlet Emperor Cangxing. Please return to the Abyss quickly."
The Dragon Demon spoke respectfully, as always.
Asalia didn't hesitate. He nodded, accelerated, and swept past Barquilorn's side.
The moment their figures crossed.
Barquilorn's claws erupted without warning, piercing through Asalia's chest and protruding from his back.
Five-colored energy coiled around the tips of his claws, sealing off all the openings around the wound, locking in the remaining power of the Lord of the Flame Prison.
Asalia's body jerked to a halt.
He lowered his head, staring at the claw tips emerging from his chest. His pupils shrank sharply, and the flames in his eye sockets nearly spilled out from the cracked edges.
"Barquilorn... you... traitor..."
He roared in fury.
The Dragon Demon's voice was still respectful, slow and deliberate: "Lord, I warned you. The pact with the Lord of the Evil Dragons must be fulfilled."
"But you seemed to be in poor condition, so I had to act on your behalf."
Asalia struggled, trying to turn around.
He gathered his Potency, preparing to use the last of his Scorched Domain embers to burn the traitor to ash. But his body was already at its limit, and the Dragon Demon was no ordinary bearer of the Mandate of Heaven.
*Crack! Crack!*
On Barquilorn's forehead, five colored scales lit up simultaneously.
Red, blue, green, black, white... with him at the center, the five colors interwove and surged, churning the surrounding seawater into a chaotic mass. At the same time, they engulfed the Lord of the Flame Prison's broken body.
Asalia roared.
"Barquilorn! Tiamat!"
"You... you despicable..."
He bellowed in helpless fury, but couldn't finish his words.
The Flame Demon's body rapidly dissolved within the five-colored light, ultimately merging completely into it.
In an instant, Asalia was gone.
The five-colored light had devoured all his energy and grown even stronger.
The light churned, coalescing into an unstable sphere. Patterns of five colors flowed across its surface, and the Dragon Demon was wrapped within the very center of the light.
On the other side, Garoth stopped.
He could clearly sense that the energy contained within the five-colored light had already surpassed the remaining aura of the Lord of the Flame Prison, and was climbing at an incredible speed.
An ancient and malevolent will was awakening from the depths of the light.
Garoth, of course, knew who was coming.
"Can't get rid of you, can I?"
The scales on his forehead slightly furrowed, as if he'd swallowed a fly—utterly revolting.
This evil god from hell had truly set its sights on him, finding ways to cause him trouble no matter what.
And, though he was reluctant to admit it, the Chromatic Queen was right.
She could lose countless times, each time at most losing an incarnation, a bit of power. But if he lost even once, he would be utterly destroyed, with no margin for error.
"Mother of the Five Colors, source of scales and wings."
"All dragon descendants are born from you. All colors return to one body. All scales return to one whole."
"..."
"The five colors are the crown. The five heads sing together."
"We have prepared the sacrifices. We have paved the five-colored path. Please descend upon your promised land."
From within the five-colored sphere, a series of devout, grand prayers emanated. The voices layered upon one another, as if countless throats were reciting in unison.
Garoth wanted to go up and stop it.
But when he heard these prayers, he felt waves of dizziness. Something in his bloodline seemed to stir, trying to force him to kneel.
He had to focus all his energy to calm his thoughts, suppressing the instinct to submit.
At the same time, the Dragon Demon tore open its own chest.
Scales shattered, flesh split open, and the five-colored light burrowed into its chest cavity.
Barquilorn's body began to undergo violent transformation. New bones grew out from the old body. Skin was torn and then healed.
One head.
Two.
Three.
Five heads grew out from the deformed torso, each with a different color and form.
Black, red, blue, green, white. Five dragon heads opened their massive maws, emitting low roars in different tones. Then they all closed simultaneously and turned in unison toward the Red Iron Dragon.
The Five-Headed Dragon.
She had appeared just like that.
Her massive body coiled atop the Abyssal Rift, several times larger than the Red Iron Dragon. Her five heads all stared at the Red Iron Dragon at once, ten vertical pupils like ten lanterns.
"My dear child."
"We meet again."
The Chromatic Queen tilted her crimson head, her gaze lingering on the ash-powdered textures on Garoth's scales and his curved horns. "As the great mother of all dragons, your growth fills me with genuine joy."
"Every time I see you, you satisfy me more than the last."
Across from her, the Red Iron Dragon's expression was cold and hard.
"Still you."
"Proclaiming yourself the mother of dragons, yet you can't even stand on any real stage."
"Tiamat, none of your actions are even remotely connected to this so-called great mother. You're more like a rat spying from the sewers."
He cursed openly, making no effort to hide the contempt in his words.
Tiamat did not take offense.
Her white head tilted slightly, letting out a breathy sound like a soft laugh. "Ah, I love this sharp-tongued look of yours."
"My rebellious child, my unruly descendant. The more you resist, the more you struggle, the more I will enjoy it when you obediently curl up beneath my wings."
"Every act of defiance, every profanation, is building toward that day."
"Don't you understand yet? No matter how high you fly, you can never escape my gaze."
As her words fell, her five heads lunged forward simultaneously.
Ten vertical pupils locked onto the Red Iron Dragon's position, their gazes intertwining, enveloping Garoth.
This time, Tiamat had ample confidence.
The massive appearance of Abyssal Rifts had flooded this world with a dense Abyssal aura, allowing her to descend with more power without being detected by the rules of the Material Plane.
This incarnation was far more powerful than any before it, enough to crush the Red Iron Dragon in his current state.
Every muscle in Garoth's body tightened.
Under the gaze of the five-colored, five-headed dragon, he felt an extreme sense of danger, as if he had been forced to the edge of a cliff, with an endless abyss behind him.
Clearly, Tiamat's incarnation was far more powerful than any before.
"Ascending to godhood?"
"The cost is steep, but it's the only way."
Garoth's thoughts raced like lightning. His will extended to his threads of faith, and he was ready to ascend to godhood.
Just then.
The color of the sea changed without warning.
A faint rainbow hue surged up from the depths, as if someone had dumped a bucket of spilled paint into the seafloor.
Then, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet—seven-colored halos intertwined, merged, and spread within the undercurrents, dyeing the originally dark seawater into a rainbow.
Even the Abyssal Rift was colored.
Its dark purple edges were covered by the seven-colored light. The Abyssal energy churning within the rift seemed to be veiled by a layer of thin silk, no longer looking ominous or terrifying, but instead exuding a certain absurd gentleness.
At the same time, a vortex slowly formed at the center of the seven-colored sea.
The vortex was not large, barely over ten meters in diameter. Foam-like seven-colored specks of light churned at its edges.
A head popped out from the center of the vortex.
Oval-shaped, covered in fine, gem-like scales. A pair of big, round eyes blinked twice.
Then came the body.
A long, slender body. Wings as thin as cicada wings. Scales all over its body refracted a seven-colored radiance, standing out starkly against the seabed. Its body length was only a few dozen centimeters.
A Faerie Dragon.
Here, he looked incredibly tiny.
But when he appeared in Garoth's field of vision, Garoth's gaze involuntarily turned completely toward him.
The Faerie Dragon's figure seemed to fill all of his perception.
Tiny, yet also magnificent.
At the same time, the moment he saw the Faerie Dragon, all the tension in the Red Iron Dragon's heart unconsciously dissipated.
The pressure and nervousness he felt when facing Tiamat seemed to be gently wiped away by something, replaced by a deep-seated relaxation. His mood inexplicably became cheerful.
The corners of the Red Iron Dragon's mouth curled up slightly, about to break into a smile.
But then, realizing the influence he was under, he tensed the muscles in his face and suppressed the smile.
Garoth also recognized the Faerie Dragon's identity.
Netal.
The God of Faerie Dragons, the god of play and mischief, one of the gods of the Joyous Court.
"So, the Faerie Dragon who tricked Vira in the Serene Spirit Wilderness was really this Netal."
"Coming to the Material Plane in person... for what purpose?"
The Red Iron Dragon did not act rashly.
For any deity, manifesting their true body in the Material Plane was actually a dangerous thing.
The Material Plane was special.
If one was ambushed here, under the suppression of the Material Plane's iron laws, even a high-ranking deity could be beaten to death by a medium or even a weak deity leading a large group of apostles.
For Netal to appear so brazenly in person, either he had some kind of support, or he was simply completely insane.
At that moment, the Faerie Dragon glided lightly through the water.
He fluttered his wings twice, turned to look at the five-colored, five-headed dragon, tilting his head to study her for a moment.
"Hey, Tiamat."
"Long time no see! Let me take a look... still five heads, and that fierce expression. Don't you find it boring? Let me dress you up!"
A sly gleam flashed in the Faerie Dragon's eyes.
In an instant.
The Chromatic Queen's majestic exterior was covered by a layer of absurd, radiant membrane.
Her scales turned into a plaid pattern of pink and tender green. Each of her five heads was topped with a crooked flower crown. Her sharp horns turned into fluffy rabbit ears, and a colorful bow appeared at the tip of her tail.
The entire dragon suddenly looked utterly ridiculous, completely devoid of the majesty and pressure from moments before.
From a distance, she looked like a graffiti-covered abstract painting.
Tiamat's five pairs of eyes all narrowed at once.
A tangible light burst from her body. The colorful membrane, flower crowns, fluffy ears, and bow instantly shattered, peeled off, and dissipated, revealing her original scales and heads.
The five dragon heads lowered as the dragon stared at the Faerie Dragon.
"Netal."
"You want to meddle in my affairs?"
Her voice layered upon itself, completely different from the pleasant tone she had used when speaking with Garoth, now deep and dangerously low.
Netal wore a troubled expression.
"No helping it."
"I'm terrified, you know. Absolutely terrified. You should know how bad your reputation is. Who would want to provoke you?"
"But what can I do?"
"Titania said to me: 'Netal, dear, go keep Tiamat company.' The Queen herself gave the order, so I had to come in person. You know me, I'm terrible at saying no—especially to Titania."
"She looks just as tiny and cute as I do, but when she's angry, she's even fiercer than you, really."
Tiamat's body leaned forward slightly. Her five heads stared down at the Faerie Dragon from different angles.
"You come on behalf of the Joyous Court..."
"Hmph. A bunch of fey gods huddling together for warmth, and you think you can interfere in my game? Netal, for the sake of past friendship, stand down. I won't pursue this."
"But if you don't know your place, I won't hesitate to crush you. You know I can."
The Faerie Dragon shook his head.
"Can't do that."
"Unless you decide to crawl out of hell yourself, cross the planar barriers, and descend in your true body. Then I'd step aside without a second word, faster than anyone."
"And then... that would be Titania's problem. You can discuss it with her slowly."
Tiamat fell silent.
Descend in her true body?
She had no doubt that if her true body descended to the Material Plane, the next second she would face attacks from more than one high-ranking deity.
Titania clearly didn't have such concerns.
At the same time.
The Faerie Dragon turned to look at the Red Iron Dragon.
He *whooshed* over to in front of Garoth, looking up at him. His big, round eyes suddenly grew even wider, as if he had seen something incredible.
"Whoa!"
He let out an exaggerated shout, and his eyeballs actually popped out of their sockets, rolling around twice before he flicked them back in with the tip of his tail, blinking to make sure they were properly seated.
"So majestic, so strong, so... stylish!"
"The great Red Emperor! Scarlet Emperor Cangxing! Undying Dragon! Master of Sacred Aola! I'm your loyal fan, the real deal! I've heard all your stories."
"Aola! Aola! Aola!"
The Faerie Dragon's body flickered, splitting into countless Faerie Dragons that surrounded the Red Iron Dragon, cheering and applauding loudly, completely ignoring the tense atmosphere.
This is a god?
Garoth felt that the Faerie Dragon in front of him seemed to have some issues in the mental department.
In any case, he wasn't normal.
"Netal, have you thought this through? Is the Joyous Court choosing to be my enemy?"
At the same time, the five-colored dragon's deep voice rang out, word by word.
Upon hearing this, Netal stopped his cheers.
Those little clones all dissipated, merging back into one.
He lowered his head and said to the Red Iron Dragon, "Remember to give me an autograph later. Just scratch two lines on my back with your claw. But be careful, don't forget our size difference. If you're too rough, I'll end up in two pieces."
"Oh, and Titania also said."
"Dragon gods don't cherish their own people, but fey gods never hold back on expressing affection and acceptance."
"Hey, if you're willing to hang out with us at the Joyous Court, Tiamat will have a much harder time bothering you. And besides, the Joyous Court is pretty big. We've got all kinds of good food, fun things, and beautiful sights."
"As for now..."
"Leave this to me. Righteous Netal will do battle with the Lord of the Evil Dragons for three hundred thousand rounds and emerge victorious! Haha! This deed shall be recorded in my sacred book of tales and sung throughout the ages!"
The Faerie Dragon flicked his tail.
The seven-colored sea suddenly changed in texture.
It turned into something like resilient gummy candy. The water wrapped around the Red Iron Dragon's limbs, wings, and body—soft to the touch, but with a strong, springy elasticity.
*Whoosh.*
The Red Iron Dragon's body was launched outward.
He shot through the seawater, broke through the sea surface, and flew straight up into the high sky. He only stopped after passing through the thick cloud layer and seeing the clear sky above the dome.
Garoth looked down.
Below, the sea surface had turned a riot of seven colors, bizarre and dazzling. Its coverage and depth were far greater than Asalia's Scorched Domain, stretching almost to the very edge of what the eye could see.
*Rumble!*
The seven-colored waves surged violently, stacking one after another. The sea would sometimes swell into a mountain, sometimes collapse into a vortex—ever-changing and unpredictable.
Two deities were locked in fierce battle.
Such a scene was extremely rare.
Garoth's eyes blazed with brilliant light as his Eye of Truth gazed into the colorful ocean.
However, the divine power of the gods blocked his perception.
Garoth couldn't see the specifics of the battle. He could only make out the alternating flashes of five-colored light and seven-colored light beneath the sea surface, forming fleeting, majestic silhouettes.
"Who will win?"
"Probably Netal."
He thought to himself.
An incarnation was, after all, just an incarnation. No matter how powerful Tiamat was, without daring to descend in her true body, it would be very difficult to defeat a true god.
And although Netal seemed crazy and erratic, he was still a rightful deity of the Joyous Court.
"Within these many planes and worlds, there are both gods of order and beings of filth and chaos."
"Deities of different alignments have clashed time and again over their faiths, ideals, and doctrines. And in these conflicts, the side of order often holds the advantage."
The dragon raised his head, gazing at the sky vault.
Order often prevailed. And Garoth himself disliked a world of chaos. If he had to choose a side in the future, he felt he would lean toward the side of order.