The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2204: The end of a super powerhouse

"ZNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

The sound was not merely loud—it was existential. Reality itself screamed as the Primordial Force of the Void tore through the ocean of blood, the shockwaves rippling like lightning across the stars.

Anark’s figure, wreathed in violet radiance, hurled itself forward with the unstoppable momentum of a collapsing universe. Every fiber of his being—flesh, energy, soul, will—was pushed to their absolute limits, all of them converging into a single, brutal intention.

Advance. Break through. Do not stop.

The ocean of dark, rooting blood that High Lord Rykard had unleashed was vast enough to drown worlds. Its touch withered matter, corroded time, devoured essence.

Yet that ocean parted before Anark’s charge, the way stone yields to a divine blade. It was a sight that left even the most battle-hardened warriors of the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe breathless.

Majestic. Terrifying. A declaration of supremacy that thundered through the void.

And then—under the eyes of gods and monsters—Anark emerged. He carved through the entire tide of corrupted blood and appeared directly before Rykard.

The High Lord’s eyes widened with shock and disbelief. He had expected to delay the intruder, to drown him long enough for the Heart of the Root to fully push through the wall. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a being who had shattered his greatest attack through sheer will.

Anark’s left hand—used to pierce through the ocean—was nearly destroyed, flesh scorched away, muscles torn, bone exposed. It dripped molten energy like magma. Yet he didn’t even glance at it.

The True Primordial simply clenched his right fist, channeling everything he possessed into a single blow.

The void dimmed. A violet sun ignited around his arm.

Rykard lifted his limbs to defend, but the ocean of blood had drained him to the brink of collapse. His corrupted lifeforce flickered, too slow to muster a defense.

The punch landed.

It wasn’t just powerful. It was annihilation incarnate. The Primordial Force of the Void ripped through the High Lord’s chest, unraveling the Root’s engineered immortality.

A vast hole tore through Rykard’s torso, nearly splitting him in half as his body hurtled backward.

He smashed into the surface of the Heart of the Root, an impact so massive that a crater hundreds of kilometers wide burst outward, shaking the entire world-sized tumor. Fractures spread like lightning across its hide, consuming a considerable part of its vitality.

The damage was immense, but it was just the beginning.

Anark’s burning gaze turned to the countless Root-spawns swarming the surface. They clung to the golden hands of the Universe Matrix, biting and clawing, hindering the push meant to drive the tumor back beyond the wall of reality.

Anark inhaled once.

Then he clapped his hands.

A violet shockwave erupted—pure, cleansing void—vaporizing every spawn it touched. They disintegrated into dust and then into nothing at all. Freed of interference, the golden hands surged in power, forcing the Heart of the Root backward with renewed strength.

The Primordial watched the tumor buckle and retreat, and his eyes hardened. He planted his feet against the void, and his aura flared.

Then he roared.

The roar was not a sound. It was the memory of creation, the howl of existence before it was shaped. Anark’s body began to grow—larger and larger—each heartbeat multiplying his mass by astronomical levels.

In a heartbeat, he surpassed the size of a moon. In another, he dwarfed a Primary World.

He was still tiny compared to the Heart of the Root—like a small cat before a huge man—but it was enough. Now he could act.

Anark slammed his entire body against the tumor’s surface and then planted both hands on it.

Reality exploded.

The shockwave echoed across the void, and the Heart of the Root lurched backward helplessly, driven by the combined power of the Matrix and the Primordial of the Void. Inch by inch, the abomination that had forced itself through the Universe Wall was shoved back, its corruptive influence retracting like a wounded serpent.

On the battlefield, warriors of the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe erupted into relieved, disbelieving smiles. The power and determination of Anark were exactly what they needed to turn the tide.

But victory was far from assured.

The Champions and High Lords of the Root felt the shift as well, and desperation ignited in their eyes. They poured everything they had into their counterassault, burning their essence, pushing far beyond survival. If the Heart of the Root was expelled from the wall, they would lose their anchor.

If that were to happen, the only path left would be death.

Desperation made them monstrous.

The battle among the Root Champions grew even more savage. Explosions tore apart the void. Attacks capable of erasing galaxies were hurled every heartbeat. Three defenders of the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe clashed against four abominations of the Root; despite the numerical disadvantage, they held their ground.

But they lacked one thing.

Coordination.

And the Champions of the Root exploited that flaw without hesitation.

Through sacrificing limbs, cores, and essence, they forced open a single opportunity—one narrow breach in the defenders’ formation. It was all they needed.

Emprik escaped.

The Deus Behemoth of lightning, the swordwoman Atrox, and the mechanical giant Arkam roared in fury as they realized their mistake. Still, the remaining Root Champions pinned them down with suicidal ferocity.

Emprik blurred forward, faster than thought, faster than light. His essence ignited, burning his existence into a single transcendent strike. Energy flooded into his blade until it glowed like a star being born.

His eyes were cold. Murderous. Focused solely on the massive back of the towering Primordial, pushing the Heart of the Root away.

He was less than a second away from plunging his blade into Anark’s spine when he heard it.

"Eleventh Gear."

"Final Eternity Breaker."

A gray world consumed the figure of the Champion of the Root, and by the time he regained his ability to think, two hands pierced the back of his head, one bated in starligth and the other in white flames.

The last thing the Champion of the Root saw before his head exploded was a towering red gate manifest above him.