The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 1827: The end of the Eternal War

"Apocalypse Blast!"

Cain roared, his voice thundering across the sky like the proclamation of extinction—a herald of damnation and divine ruin. The super-condensed Neo-Demon Aura stored deep within his Chaotic Core surged into his sword, merging with the destructive energy already coiled at its edge. The result was a blistering arc of plasma so violent, so unrestrained, it tore through the heavens and set the very fabric of space ablaze.

"BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!"

The resulting explosion was cataclysmic. The highest layers of the sky trembled as if reality itself were gasping. Massive cracks formed in every direction, opening up fissures across the dimensional layers. The sheer force of the blast spread outward like the hand of an angry god, obliterating everything in a radius of thousands of kilometers.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

A scream of pure agony erupted alongside the destruction—one belonging to none other than the Lord of Ages. The ancient ArchDeity was flung back like a discarded puppet, his form spinning helplessly through the fractured sky. Fear and horror contorted his once-majestic face.

Anyone watching could see it clearly: the Lord of Ages had completely abandoned the idea of battle. In his mind, there was only one thought left—escape.

But Cain and Tiamat would never allow such an ending.

With a flicker of movement, they vanished after him. The Neo-Demon and Dragon Empress, both still in good condition and with their energies burning like suns, were far faster than the wounded ArchDeity. It was only a matter of seconds before they caught up and delivered the final blow.

Or so they thought.

"Titanomachy!" the Lord of Ages howled like a madman, his voice trembling with desperation and wrath.

With that scream, his heart convulsed violently—and then exploded.

A river of divine blood and soul force surged outward in a torrent, staining the sky crimson. From the sacrificial blast emerged dozens of colossal spiritual entities, each the size of a mountain and radiating an aura capable of crushing moons with their bare hands. They screamed in rage and sorrow, ancient titanic souls torn from the depths of the Lord of Ages’ essence.

Cain and Tiamat paused mid-flight, stunned by the sudden appearance of the gargantuan spiritual guardians.

"Damn it!" Tiamat snarled, frustration flaring across her face. The Lord of Ages’ trump card had far surpassed her expectations.

Without hesitation, she dove into the swarm. Her five-headed dragon phantom roared and tore through the titanic souls, while Cain’s sword blurred into streaks of darkness, cleaving spirit after spirit. But despite their assault, the wave of spiritual colossi halted their momentum.

And that was all the Lord of Ages needed.

He turned back briefly. A faint, bitter smile crept across his face—equal parts triumph and fury. The cost of this technique was immense, the price unspeakable... but no cost exceeded that of death.

With a final, burning glare, he prepared to break through the edge of the realm and vanish into a place where he could heal and plot his revenge. Yet before that could happen, one of the dragon statues shattered to pieces.

"Crack."

Along with that crack came the Matrix of the Crimson World, manifesting in all its splendor.

An indescribable wave of dread washed over him. Every time something extraordinary occurred in this cursed battle, it turned against him. And this time was no different.

Using the negative emotions of the ArchDeity, Meylin teleported to the highest sky.

The power of the Oniric Truth of Envy burst forth from her body and soul, reaching into the deepest fibers of her being. And in the next second—it exploded outward.

A beam of emerald and golden energy launched skyward, roaring into the furthest limits of the Second Realm. The light it released was primal, absolute. Everyone who witnessed it knew what it meant.

The Depravita had awakened her Dream!

The Lord of Ages faltered mid-flight, his instincts screaming danger. His fear catalyzed the last remnants of his divine power, and he prepared to retaliate.

"You think you can stop—"

He never finished the sentence.

The raging energy that enveloped Meylin coalesced into her twin swords as she slashed them outward. From their edges burst a sweeping wave of Depravita Aura, a storm of psychic might that engulfed the highest sky.

But this was more than raw power.

Woven into the wave were chains, black fog, and wailing spirits—each one tinged with golden radiance. That golden hue lifted them beyond their original limitations, refining them into something transcendent.

The Lord of Ages’ pupils shrank.

He recognized the energies immediately.

They were his!

His powers—his techniques, his constructs—now hurled back at him through the lens of Meylin’s awakened Dream. He hesitated, stunned by the paradox of it.

And that was all it took.

The wave struck.

"CRACK!"

The blow landed with world-shaking force, shattering his defenses and hurling him across the sky. Blood—vivid gold and thick with divine essence—spewed from his lips as he was launched backward like a shattered puppet.

"ZNNNNNNNN!"

Before he could reorient himself, another sound echoed.

His eyes widened in disbelief as a dark blade erupted from his chest. The sword had entered clean through his back. He trembled violently, pain and disbelief dancing across his features.

Then came a touch—soft, deliberate.

Tiamat’s fingers reached toward his temple, passing through his skin and skull as if matter meant nothing. Her touch pierced his soul, and the power she released flooded his mind. It snuffed out the light in his eyes and dragged his consciousness into a deep, forced coma.

It was over.

Cain and Tiamat exhaled in near-unison, finally allowing their raging powers to settle. The winds calmed. The battlefield stilled.

The Lord of Ages was alive—but paralyzed. His soul sealed, his body restrained. It was the perfect outcome.

This way, there would be no self-destruction of his Eternal Kingdom. No last defiance. No vaporized treasure. They would drain it all—slowly.

Cain turned to Tiamat. She gave him a single nod, regal and approving.

With calm precision, Cain pulled Sky Devourer from the ArchDeity’s body. The sword slid free with a hiss, severing no vital pathways.