Chaos' Heir

Chapter 1557: Climax

The temporary break from the tight succession of exchanges gave the Emperor the opportunity to divert his attention, which the other battlefield claimed.

Something unbelievably bright and scorching had appeared on the other side of the battlefield, its scarlet heat stretching as far as the Emperor’s position.

Even from a distance, the Emperor felt warm looking at that phenomenon, having to cut his inspection short to avoid suffering pointless burns.

Still, that didn’t stop the Emperor from realizing what was happening. He didn’t need to study the event any longer to understand that the other battle had reached its climax.

The Emperor also knew that Khan wasn’t alone in that. A single look at his state was enough to confirm that.

The succession of exchanges was steadily bringing the Emperor back to his peak form, but his body paid the price for that recovery.

The Emperor looked down, only to be met with a gory, depressing sight. His military uniform was long gone, exposing the vast patches of dark blood that had almost covered him in his entirety.

And, under that blood, torn flesh that occasionally reached as deep as the Emperor’s bones remained open, not bleeding, but not healing, either.

Of course, the Emperor could force himself to heal, redirecting his immense existence toward that process. However, his opponent wouldn’t just let him recover, and he looked beyond livid already.

The Emperor lifted his gaze, stopping caring about his poor state, only for an apocalyptic sight to fill every corner of his vision.

Oceans of glowing darkness blew everywhere, filling sky and ground. Mountains solidified mid-air, only to fall prey to the area’s gravity and crumble down.

Chaotic lands made of hills, immense plains, and incredible gorges formed, only for entire quadrants with different layouts to settle above them, adding giant layers to the already lifted ground.

Truth be told, that worldwide replacement had already occurred many times, leaving the Emperor in quite an elevated location. The central mountain was still way taller, but its elliptical portal had long since been buried under the new lands.

And the Source stood at the center of all that, releasing massive amounts of True Chaos non-stop, being the literal source of all of creation. His figure generated entire worlds in the form of glowing energy, painting an endless, pitch-black canvas behind him, while his scarlet eyes were wide in anger.

That was because True Chaos didn’t only leak from the Source’s back. It also flowed out of the few injuries on the alien’s hands and central horn, which the Emperor had managed to damage.

Clearly, the Source hadn’t liked that last part. The current endless release of True Chaos had actually started after the Emperor had opened a crack in that central protuberance, escalating the battle to its climax.

The Emperor would last much longer, and the Source seemed to have unleashed his ultimate technique. The next exchanges were bound to be the last, and the Emperor didn’t know how they would end.

Of course, the Emperor didn’t really waste thoughts on those worries. Losing simply meant that he deserved to die. It would mean that he belonged among the weaklings, who had no right to live in the first place.

However, obviously, the Emperor wanted to win, both due to pride in himself, his species, and the Empire, and to fulfill his duty toward the allied front. He had chosen to join those dangerous fights, so it was his responsibility to win.

The problem was how.

Admittedly, the Source’s technique was far from complicated. The alien did devise abilities around his inherited divine gift, but they were pretty straightforward, too.

Nevertheless, simplicity didn’t imply easy ways to counter it, especially in the Source’s case. He was only releasing raw True Chaos, but there was enough of it to create entire solar systems.

Now, the Emperor could punch his way out of a planet or two. He could probably handle one compressed solar system, too, but the Source had far more than that in store.

Luckily, the Source didn’t want to play games. He could use his endless energy to waste time, gradually wearing the Emperor down, but his furious face hinted at the opposite.

The Source didn’t waste time on pointless words. He was there only to enact punishment on the invaders, so he stretched his damaged arms, pointing them at the distant opponent.

Techniques were superfluous, and battle strategies were demeaning. The Source had inherited true divine power, so he would unleash all of it in its most basic but pristine form.

The entirety of the never-ending world that was growing from the Source’s back changed direction. The immense pitch-black canvas collapsed forward, turning into a tsunami of True Chaos that seemed to reach as high as the celestial body’s orbit.

That wasn’t the end. More True Chaos escaped the Source’s damaged hands, adding a thickness that the Emperor soon became unable to perceive to the advancing tsunami. A wall capable of separating giant celestial bodies had taken form, ready to submerge the Emperor once and for all.

As the worldwide tide began to collapse, the Emperor lifted his gaze, only to realize that he couldn’t see its tip anymore. That impossibly giant structure had already surpassed his location, and its fall threatened to crush him before the actual clash could happen.

Unbearable pressure soon descended on the Emperor due to the air the tsunami was displacing, intensifying with each passing second. It was unclear how powerful it would become, but his open injuries started bleeding again under its weight.

Dodging such a thing was simply impossible, not that the Emperor even entertained the idea. Only one path existed in his mind, and that was forward.

The Emperor lowered his gaze, and his aura surged. The existence built throughout hundreds of wars unleashed its full power, pushing aside any unwanted pressure, fighting against enough atmosphere to cover multiple celestial bodies.

Then, the Emperor jumped, shooting toward that gargantuan wave of True Chaos, heading toward his now invisible opponent, a simple plan rooted in his mind. He would carve a path through the tsunami or die trying.