The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2043: Brutality beyond words

Cain’s eyes widened as Azazel’s transformation completed, the terrifying aura of Resurrección flaring into existence. Power surged outward like a collapsing sun, its weight pressing against Cain’s chest, making even the void tremble.

"Incredible..." Cain thought, his gaze hardening. "I hold the origin power and energy of more than fifteen continents flowing through my veins, and yet... his aura does not feel a single iota weaker than mine. So this is the might of an Alpha-Omega Overgod."

It was clear. If he did not push himself beyond his limit, this would be the last battle of his life.

But fear had no place in Cain’s heart. He drew in a long, steady breath, and the fire in his eyes rose higher, stronger, until they blazed like miniature stars, just to be accompanied by the golden glow of The Flow. Then, with a smile widening across his face, he roared with all the power of his being.

"Tenth Gear!"

"Final Eternity Breaker!"

At the same instant, Azazel’s voice thundered through the void. The True Depravita of Sloth slowed the very flow of time, freezing existence into an endless gray stillness. Cain, in contrast, drove his body into molecular overdrive, every particle vibrating with impossible speed, moving faster than the flow of time.

Two extremes—frozen eternity and burning acceleration—clashed as the combatants lunged at one another, their eyes carrying only one goal: to end the enemy and claim the war.

"CRACK!"

No explosion rang out, for in that suspended reality sound itself could not keep pace. Instead, space fractured around them as fists connected. Cain took a crushing right hand to the jaw, while Azazel’s face snapped sideways from Cain’s brutal left.

Both blows carried force enough to tear the head from an ArchDiety, yet neither man yielded. They clenched their teeth, blood streaming, and pressed forward.

Cain ducked low, muscles coiling, then launched upward with feral speed. His right fist, loaded with concentrated might, drove straight into Azazel’s chest.

"CRACK!"

The True Depravita’s body convulsed, space distorting violently around him. The strike forced him a step back—an insult to one who prided himself on never yielding. Rage lit Azazel’s eyes as his knee snapped upward, smashing against Cain’s jaw.

Cain’s head whipped back violently, pain surging down his spine as if it might split. He staggered a step, vision blurring, skull rattling from the impact, his brain shaking inside.

Azazel pressed forward, his massive frame lunging in, fist cocked back with killing intent. The punch blurred, a comet of black stone and fire.

But golden light flickered through Cain’s eyes. Instinct seized him before thought could. His head tilted just so—the punch grazed his ear, ripping a line of flesh, but missed the killing blow.

"ARRGHHHHH!"

Cain roared back to focus. His chest twisted with brutal torque, and his fist snapped upward, driving into Azazel’s temple. The True Depravita’s gaze lost clarity as the force rattled his mind, shaking his spirit. Cain did not hesitate—an uppercut followed instantly, smashing Azazel’s jaw skyward, forcing his head back with concussive violence.𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The world swam in double vision for Azazel, everything shuddering and unstable. Yet even dazed, he saw the Scarlet King’s form begin to blur, body weaving in patterns too strange to follow. Cain’s frame spun and twisted like infinity itself, momentum compounding until he became a storm.

Had he performed this motion on a Primary World, the planet would have been scoured clean by cataclysmic storms. Now, all that force funneled into his right hook.

"CRACK!" "CRACK!"

The punch smashed directly into Azazel’s face. Bone fractured, space itself splintering from the pressure. Yet, Cain also took horrifying damage. The True Depravita of Sloth knew he could not dodge the blow, so he placed his fists in Cain’s trajectory. When Cain’s fists landed, he also received a blow.

What came next was brutality beyond words. Neither dodged, neither blocked—they simply traded destruction.

"CRACK!" "CRACK!"

Blood sprayed in the void. Cain’s muscles tore, his jaw splitting, but he refused to falter. His left hook came forward, carrying the weight of scarlet flames.

"CRACK!" "CRACK!"

Azazel matched him again, catching the strike with his own, even as blood gushed from his ruined lips. Flesh split, bone groaned, yet the True Depravita would not yield.

Over and over they clashed, fists tearing flesh and rending space.

"CRACK!" "CRACK!" "CRACK!" "CRACK!" "CRACK!" "CRACK!"

Each sound was louder than the last, echoing across the battlefield like war drums announcing the end of all things.

Their faces swelled grotesquely, skin split open, blood and fire dripping freely. Still they pressed forward, damage for damage, strike for strike. Until finally Cain’s whirlwind of motion reached its limit. The furious exchange slowed.

Both stood before one another, faces battered to ruin, breathing like beasts, eyes still locked with unwavering hatred.

Then, as though by silent agreement, they lunged at once. Their foreheads crashed together in a savage headbutt, the impact detonating like a thunderclap. The Scarlet King and the True Depravita of Sloth were blasted backward, blood spraying in arcs.

Their vision blurred, but they refused to yield.

Before their eyes had even refocused, both warriors surged forward again, movements sharper, cleaner, faster.

Azazel struck first. His fist shot straight toward Cain’s face, ruthless and uncompromising.

Cain’s left arm slid upward, deflecting the blow with a harsh parry, his body already twisting into the counter. His right hand surged forward, aiming for Azazel’s centerline with merciless intent.

Azazel twisted, catching the strike with his free hand, shoving it aside at the last instant before slamming his own fist toward Cain’s ribs.

Cain slipped sideways, the punch grazing past, and the two closed the distance again. Their arms blurred, strikes and counters flowing in perfect rhythm.

There were no Laws here. No Concepts, no divine techniques. Only fists, flesh, and instinct.

Every move carried refinement far beyond martial schools or mystical teachings. This was raw combat at its truest level. Each strike was simple, direct, inevitable—and yet each was sharper than any law of the Everstrife Empyrean World.

The Scarlet King and the True Depravita of Sloth fought as titans stripped bare. There was simplicity in their actions, yet that was what made them so terrifying. The more damage they took, the brighter the flames in their eyes, and the clearer their intent.

Neither intended to stop until the other was broken.