The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2116: Extracting the soul and forge it into life

"Ahhhhh..."

Cain exhaled softly, the sound half sigh, half awe. Understanding the sheer difficulty of the Flow Art left his mind spinning, yet no despair touched him. He had never feared hard work; challenge was the forge in which his will was tempered.

Closing his eyes once more, he sent his awareness deep into the patterns of the Thirty-Three Stars as he focused on the second core mechanic of the Art.

"The second principle is Execution — the Flow Strike."

His mind grew sharper with every single word he went through.

"Once the Flow Points are perceived, I must guide the frequency of my energy to match that of my opponent. Then, invoking Divergence, I will release a pulse of opposing frequency — a perfect countercurrent — striking directly at their Flow Point."

He visualized it clearly: the moment of impact, the invisible resonance colliding with its opposite.

"The strike will not wound flesh or shatter the soul immediately," he murmured, "but it will turn Life Force and Soul Force that forge the Flow Point against each other. Life Force will surge outward, while Soul Force collapses inward. The clash of vitality and spirit essence will cause an internal implosion — the body’s equilibrium disintegrating beneath its own power."

His heart grew solemn, more reverent.

"There is no defense. No barrier, no armor, no divine shield can stop it. It matters not how resilient one’s flesh may be, nor how fortified the soul. If the Flow Point is struck correctly, the damage is inevitable."

The golden light inside his eyes flared briefly as he continued his internal recitation.

"Depending on how many Flow Points are struck, the effects vary — from minor energy backlash and disruption of meridians... to soul rupture, fragmentation, and ultimately total dissonance collapse."

Cain clenched his fists as comprehension deepened. The might of the Art was staggering — elegant, devastating, absolute. If he could master it, his strikes could shatter even an Alpha Omega Overgod from within, tearing the target apart at the intersection of soul and body.

Yet such power came at an almost impossible price.

It took all his strength just to detect a few Flow Points, and even that left his mind trembling. Then he would need to adjust his energy frequency to match an opponent’s, before striking at those points — points smaller than a grain of rice, hidden beneath layers of vitality and spiritual current.

Just thinking about the precision required made his head ache.

He breathed deeply, steadying himself, and focused on the final revelation inscribed within the Art.

"There are nine levels of mastery," he whispered. "Each represents not only technical refinement, but a deeper harmony with the universal rhythm. Every advancement expands one’s command of the Flow itself."

The words of the ancient script unfolded in his mind like a cosmic mantra.

"The First Level is Opening Touch — the ability to perceive and strike at least one Flow Point, causing localized paralysis or shock.

The Second Level is Wave Step — the capacity to strike four or more points in succession, each amplifying the last, rupturing an opponent’s internal circuits and leaving their energy in disarray."

Cain paused. The next passage glowed within his consciousness like a blazing sun, and his breath caught as he read the description of the final tier.

"And the Ninth Level... Absolute Flow Break. The point where the practitioner achieves complete resonance with the universal frequencies. One strike collapses all thirty-three Flow Points simultaneously — annihilating body, soul, and even concept. Under this power, even the True Names of Alpha Omega Overgods would perish."

Cain froze, his heart pounding.

That kind of strength defied comprehension — the ability to destroy even a supreme powerhouse’s True Name, to erase existence itself. For a moment, his killing intent surged like a storm. If he could reach that level, even Bradley, the Overgod that made him run away, would fall in a single blow.

Then, just as quickly, he laughed softly, shaking his head.

"Getting to the second level alone will already be a monumental task," he admitted to himself. A rueful smile tugged at his lips. "I wonder how many eons it would take me to reach the Ninth... with my current talent and domain."

But Cain was not one to dwell on distant goals. He let the thought fade and rose smoothly from the void, turning toward Alita and Elder Oni, who waited silently nearby.

"Thank you for your patience," he said, his voice composed and steady. "I’m ready to move on."

The two exchanged knowing smiles, and together they stepped forward — crossing the threshold of the Gate of Thirty-Three Suns and entering the Third Ring.

The moment their feet touched the new realm, the gate behind them slammed shut, and the world itself began to tremble.

A searing wave of pain tore through them. Cain, Alita, and Oni gasped as their Soul Force was pulled from their minds. It was not an attack they could resist — not something external. It was as though the realm itself demanded a toll for entry.

Their soul essence poured into the glass floor beneath them, glowing brighter and brighter until the once-reflective surface turned transparent. Beneath it, a new reality revealed itself — a boundless domain of shifting light.

Before their stunned eyes, their Soul Force coalesced into thousands of figures.

Humanoid constructs formed from their very essence — soldiers made of color and will. Some burned crimson like molten fire, others shimmered green as living emeralds, and others glowed sapphire blue. Each bore a faint reflection of its maker’s aura.

Cain nearly collapsed to his knees. His breathing was shallow, his face pale. Alita and Oni fared no better; both staggered, gripping their chests as they struggled to recover.

The strain was immense — yet their awe was greater.

"The laws here..." Oni whispered hoarsely, "they can extract the soul itself... and forge it into life."

Cain nodded, still catching his breath. His eyes were wide with astonishment. The Third Ring was unlike any realm they had known. Its laws and rules were so refined, so absolute, that it had seized their essence and reshaped it into living manifestations — an army bound to their will, yet independent in existence.

They turned their gazes upward toward the man-shaped silhouette wearing a red crown, radiating a presence that made the very air tremble.

It was clear that the creator of this Sacred Dimension possessed a power the trio could not even comprehend.