Read Novel Full Chapter 2344: The Ancient One won
Chapter 2344: The Ancient One won
"Adam?"
Cain’s eyes widened as he heard the Demon King address the Ancient One by that name.
Adam—the ancestor of humanity. The one who had led mankind from a dying world into a new universe. The man who carved a path of blood and power, allowing the Godslayer Humankind to rise among the stars. The one who ended the Great War billions of years ago.
The First Master of Chaos.
The very idea that this legendary figure and the Ancient One could be the same being sent a shock through Cain’s mind. Of course, many things did not make sense with that assumption.
However, before Cain, the Demon King, or anyone else could even begin to process the revelation, the orb forged from the Ancient One’s shadows pulsed violently.
That pulse resonated with every Neo-Angel Core belonging to the warriors of the Freedom Path.
"BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!"
In an instant, energy erupted into towering pillars of plasma, flooding the core of Origin Island with radiant, blinding light. The pillars connected a heartbeat later, forming a vast, intricate matrix—with the shadow orb at its center.
Though such a phenomenon took a long time to describe, in reality, it all happened so quickly that before the Leader of the Masked Race could reach the Ancient One, the latter had already grasped the orb.
A wave of vitality surged through his body.
His strength returned in a violent rush, restoring his wounds—every one of them except for his missing eye. More importantly, his white plasma wings manifested once more, blazing with overwhelming power.
Immediately, the Matrix of Origin Island fully revealed itself.
The battlefield began to tremble.
"RUMBLE!"
The very next second, everyone was forced to their knees.
It felt as though every law, every principle of the universe had turned against them—an invisible pressure crushing their bodies, their souls, their very existence, demanding submission. Even the Demon King and the Leader of the Masked Race were paralyzed, their movements locked by a force far beyond ordinary comprehension.
The power on display was mind-shattering.
Yet such power demanded an equally horrific price.
The Neo-Angels began to burn.
Those who had reached the Middle Alpha–Omega Overgod stage or higher managed to endure, barely holding themselves together. But those below that tier were consumed alive—bodies, souls, and even their True Names ignited and reduced to fuel for the matrix.
The agony was absolute.
They screamed, though no sound escaped. They struggled, though no resistance mattered.
When they first became Neo-Angels, they had believed themselves chosen—elevated into a Supreme Race, superior to all others. Only now did they understand the truth.
They had never been special.
They were batteries.
Resources prepared long ago by the Ancient One for this very moment.
And he felt no pity.
No remorse.
He merely smiled as he turned toward the Eternity Gate.
At last, nothing stood between him and his goal.
Or so he believed.
Two figures with plasma wings—wings eerily similar to his own—appeared between the Ancient One and the pyramid.
Instantly, his smile vanished.
His plan had been flawless. His trump card should have been irresistible. The Matrix of Origin Island had crippled everyone else—yet it had failed to suppress the Master of Chaos and the Master of Order.
Even more shocking was the Crimson Exarch.
Unlike the other Neo-Angels, he had not been consumed.
The Ancient One’s single remaining eye narrowed.
"You really are a clever rat," he said coldly. "You managed to alter your Neo-Angel Core."
The Crimson Exarch said nothing. He simply tightened his grip on his guns.
Things were going terribly—irredeemably—wrong.
They were back where they had started, but worse. He no longer had his Big Crunch shots. He was nearly out of options.
The Scarlet King and the Crimson Exarch both knew the truth.
No one was coming to save them.
And if the Ancient One crossed the Eternity Gate, everything would be lost.
Unfortunately, they had no time to formulate a plan.
The Ancient One vanished.
He reappeared before the Crimson Exarch at shocking speed, driving his knee forward with such force that the sound of shattering bones echoed across the battlefield.
The Crimson Exarch was blasted backward, his body crashing violently into the steps of the pyramid as blood poured from his mouth.
Without wasting a moment, the Ancient One turned, extending his right palm toward the incoming blade.
Cain clenched his teeth as Sky Devourer collided with that palm.
It felt as though he had struck an entire cosmos.
Yet Cain did not retreat.
His Wings of Chaos flared violently, summoning power from the Matrix as he pushed forward with everything he had left.
That defiance only deepened the coldness in the Ancient One’s gaze.
The shadow core connected to the Neo-Angel Matrix glowed intensely. His white plasma wings trembled as a burst of power surged through his palm—power infused with the essence of Negation itself.
"CRACK!"
Cain’s eyes widened.
The sound was unmistakable.
Divine metal fractured.
Cracks spread across Sky Devourer’s blade, spiderwebbing outward before, under Cain’s stunned gaze, the sword shattered into countless fragments.
The power did not stop there.
It surged into Cain’s arm, shattering bone and flesh before blasting his body into the pyramid, where he landed beside the Crimson Exarch in a cloud of debris.
Cain spat mouthfuls of blood.
His Depravita Aura surged, desperately attempting to restore his arm. It managed to reform bone and muscle—but nothing more.
The aura was spent.
Completely drained.
The Scarlet King would not be able to heal from the next wound.
For a brief moment, the Ancient One frowned as his white wings flickered, a small backlash, proof that, unlike his body, his soul had yet to heal properly.
But when he looked at the expressions of shock and helplessness on the Scarlet King and the Crimson Exarch, that frown turned into a satisfied smile.
He began walking toward the pyramid.
Toward the Eternity Gate.
There was no one left to stop him.
No one left to oppose him.
At long last—
He had won.