The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2274: Escaping the Heart of the Root

"Everyone... we won. Now let’s get the hell out."

Cain’s voice carried through every layer of the Heart of the Root, quiet yet thunderous, resonating directly into the souls of every warrior of the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe.

For a heartbeat, none of them moved. None breathed. None even understood. Only moments ago, the portal had opened, the dark aura had drowned the layers, and the apocalypse itself had been moments from manifesting. They were already preparing to die. And now—victory.

A shock, almost painful in its intensity, rippled through their spirits.

They had no idea how Cain had reversed a cosmic disaster in the span of a breath. They knew only one thing: the suffocating, corrupting aura had faded, space-time had stabilized, and the malignant presence from the Emptiness was gone. The truth settled into them like dawn breaking across a battlefield.

They had won.

As that realization bloomed, stunned disbelief shifted into roaring, unrestrained relief. Grins broke across bloodied faces and laughter—raw, exhausted, incredulous—rose across the layers. But the celebration lasted only a heartbeat.

The focus of the warriors of the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe snapped back as they remembered where they were. The Heart of the Root—wounded, trembling, furious—still pulsed around them. The battle might be won, but death was still closing in like a tightening noose.

Without wasting another moment, every warrior ignited the last scraps of their power and surged toward the exit, racing upward through the collapsing layers toward escape.

Their assault had been overwhelming—entire layers burned, skies shattered, ground ripped open—but even that devastation had not been enough to kill the Heart of the Root.

Its Champions and High Lords, though wounded, were regenerating. If the warriors of the Nine Empyrean Suns lingered, even seconds too long, this place would become their tomb.

As desperation drove the victors upward, a very different emotion swallowed Radagon—the King of the Root. Standing amid the ruin, he felt a loss so profound it hollowed him from within.

That decapitated head was gone. He had failed to protect it. He had failed to secure the passage for the hordes of the Emptiness.

It was not just a mission. The portal was the purpose of his existence, the reason he was created, and he had failed.

His spirit ruptured with pure hatred.

"Damn you all!" Radagon bellowed, his voice twisting space itself as he hurled his fury toward Anark, seeking to tear apart the True Primordial of the Void in a final act of vengeance.

Anark was barely standing. His energy was in tatters. Yet his gaze remained fierce, refusing to bow even before Radagon’s cataclysmic wrath.

He no longer possessed the strength to regenerate, but he would not turn away. Summoning every grain of World Strength that remained, he launched himself forward.

But just as the two titans were about to collide—

Cain appeared in the Eighth Layer.

His hand seized Anark’s shoulder and shoved him backward with caution. Then, in the same motion, Cain channeled immense power in his right fist and struck.

The blow landed squarely on Radagon’s face—a single, brutal, perfectly focused strike. Half the King of the Root’s head exploded into ash and fire as his body hurtled into the distance, crashing through the Eighth Layer, blasting the ground apart.

Cain didn’t wait to see the result. His plasma wings ignited in an eruption of light, propelling him upward with such ferocity that he crossed into the seventh layers in a single heartbeat, overtaking even Cipher, Zephirax, Arkam, Amara, Uriel, and the greatest generals as though they were standing still.

The wings of Chaos—newborn, radiant, and terrifying—wove tendrils through the collapsing battlefield. The tendrils wrapped around warriors one by one, gripping them firmly before dragging them upward after him.

Each second of using the Power of Chaos crushed Cain’s soul and will beneath a growing, unbearable pressure. He felt as though his mind were being stretched across the fabric of reality itself. He would not last long.

But there was no time to hesitate.

He raced upward, catching each general, each Runic War Avatar, binding them to him through luminous scars of power as he tore through the layers.

Fourth.

Third.

Second.

And then—

With a final, devastating burst of speed, Cain shattered through the First Layer of the Heart of the Root, erupting into the silent void beyond the world-sized tumor.

They were free.

Cain halted only once they were a safe distance from the malignant core, deep inside the golden matrix of the universe.

Now that he was finally safe, a flash of confusion assaulted Cain as the escape was easier than he expected. No final strike. No tendrils trying to pull them back. The Heart of the Root was stunned, or wounded, or simply too destabilized to react.

He wasn’t going to question luck.

The plasma wings dissolved. His heartbeat, once roaring like a star on the verge of detonation, slowed. His Resurrección collapsed. The power of Chaos withdrew.

Silence fell.

Every surviving warrior stared at Cain in awe—shaken, reverent, confused. They didn’t understand what had happened at the end. They only knew that, for an instant, something had connected all of them, merging their strength into Cain and letting him unleash an attack beyond anything imaginable.

They wanted answers—but Cain had no time to speak.

He could already feel the last scraps of world energy fading. The Dual Alpha-Omega Overgod Tribulation Enhancement was reaching its end. He needed every remaining thread of energy simply to keep himself alive. Even with a Samsara Immortal Body, he was one breath away from slipping into a coma that could last years—perhaps decades, so he had to fix himself as much as he could.

Finally, the enhancement ended.

Cain’s entire body trembled. Blood seeped from his eyes, nose, ears, lips. The light in his gaze flickered violently, fading in and out as if reality itself were trying to pull him under. He hovered on the edge of unconsciousness, but sheer force of will held him upright.

His breathing was ragged. His body felt hollow. His soul felt scorched.

Yet—he smiled.

He had survived. They had won.

Then—

His expression sharpened.

Cain turned toward the Heart of the Root, eyes narrowing as he sensed something impossible.

Space-time—warped again.