The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2427 The Royal Guard vs two Kings
Previously on The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order...
The two kings were observed by Cain as they readied their plunge toward him, their murderous aura flaring fiercely while they discarded every inhibition in a frantic rush to obliterate the spirit commanding the Ocean of the Blood Sun.
Still, Cain's inner self held no trace of dread or frenzy, merely a chilling calm.
The Power of Chaos exploded outward.
At that very moment, all the Royal Blutlinie who had earlier drawn the Ocean of the Blood Sun's force into themselves experienced a deep, instinctive terror shaking their souls. Through permitting Cain's essence to flow within them—by embracing his life force and vigor—they had unwittingly opened a pathway for him right into their cores.
Such safeguards proved utterly futile.
Cain had no intention of targeting their physical forms.
Instead, he struck straight at their essences.
The complete force of the Soul Sundering Technique plunged directly into their spirits, ignoring every shield, lineage, and ward. "ARGHHHHHH-!"
Mirena, Kriz, and the other surviving Royal Blutlinie of the Aztorus Kingdom let out synchronized cries as their souls tore asunder. The torment proved so overwhelming that their awareness fragmented in an instant.
The following instant brought their collapse.
Bodies tumbled into the Ocean of the Blood Sun, and upon contact with its waves, their spirits were devoured by the golden web. Power swelled within the Soul Sundering Technique, its potency skyrocketing without limit.
"RUMBLE-!"
The fabric of space quaked violently.
Heavens split open as a colossal surge of soul force blasted skyward, slamming into the leftover Royal Blutlinie from the Kalous Kingdom—and the kings in person.
Eonar and Lortar were flung wildly into the air. Crimson trails poured from their eyes, ears, and lips while their sight dimmed, their essences wailing under the relentless assault.
The Kalous Kingdom's Royal Blutlinie suffered far graver fates.
Even without directly taking in the Power of Chaos, they
already bore severe injuries. Successively, they slipped into oblivion and
dropped into the Ocean of the Blood Sun, their falls amplifying the Soul Sundering Technique's might even further.
Every essence absorbed wove the web more securely.
Thicker.
More lethal.
The sight of their kin plummeting sparked a fury so intense it drowned out the torment ravaging their beings. The kings gripped their fists until blood oozed from their hands, jaws grinding as they propelled themselves ahead anew.
Together they hurtled downward, resolve shining fiercer than any hopelessness.
They vowed to shatter the spirit ruling the blood sea—regardless of the price.
Regrettably, three silhouettes blocked their route.
One human.
One dinosaur warrior.
One fiendish dragon.
Shoulder to shoulder, the Royal Guards positioned themselves gravely against the duo of kings.
The monarchs' frames were ravaged, their life essence ebbing swiftly, with the Soul Sundering Technique still feasting on their spirits. Nevertheless, they remained supreme forces able to slay the group.
Yet no terror lingered in the Royal Guards' gazes.
No doubt.
They charged ahead.
Toward Eonar, Morningstar launched himself, gripping a huge bastard sword tightly
in his grasp.
"Hmph! Get out of my way, you garbage!" bellowed the Aztorus King, unleashing the Blade of the End of Times with his final reserves.
Blades clashed together.
The instant of impact made Morningstar sense endless ages crashing over his form. The weight of time bore down, stealing his endurance, leaching his life force, and pulling him toward ruin.
His frame was forced lower.
But he ascended once more without delay.
With a thunderous yell, Morningstar thrust himself back upward, denying Eonar any advance toward the blood sea.
No better off were Hades and Satan.
Every arc of Lortar's halberd released blazing torrents of searing heat
that charred skin, fused plating, and blistered skeletons. Flames licked their bodies, anguish tearing at them with each motion.
Despite this, they gritted their teeth and advanced relentlessly.
Each blow they delivered compelled the Kalous King to battle for the slightest gain
in distance.
At last, the final Royal Blutlinie from the Kalous Kingdom sank into the
Ocean of the Blood Sun.
Both realms had thrown their all into this clash.
Their forces.
Their champions.
Their mightiest lineages.
They had believed this marked their ultimate defense.
Now, everything lay lost.
Their essences nourished the Soul Sundering Technique.
Their forms were forged into life force for Cain's emerging shape.
And above all—their Ancestor Drops were refined, stripped of every impurity and frailty, then channeled into the cocoon submerged in the sea's depths.
Cain had wrought a disaster of epic scale.
The united power of the Aztorus Kingdom and Kalous Kingdom matched the Crimson World's Freedom Path under the Ancient One's command.
And Cain had wiped them out single-handedly.
But this offered no moment for ease.
Eonar and Lortar pressed on toward his form.
Should any king land a full assault on the cocoon, it might harm his Primordial Essence—or far worse, scar his freshly shaping body.
Cain's attention sharpened.
His entire strength split between two vital efforts.
The initial one involved finalizing the purification of the Royal Blutlinie's
Ancestor Drops, blending them with his own to elevate it past former bounds. This proved simple—yet demanding in duration. The other entailed integrating his Primordial Essence into his reborn vessel.
That fusion raced along.
And demanded exquisite care.
One error could doom him forever.
Precision was essential.
Over the sea, the skirmish turned ever more perilous for the Royal
Guards. The Soul Sundering Technique's influence started to wane, letting the kings tap deeper into their authentic power.
A profound slash marred Morningstar's torso. Chronal force seeped from the injury, defying healing, siphoning his vitality pulse by pulse.
Even so, he ground his teeth and kept blocking the Blade of the End of Times.
Hades and Satan endured far harsher straits.
Scorch marks blanketed their frames, wisps of smoke curling from fractured gear and blistered skin. The duel hit a desperate peak as Lortar booted Hades aside with crushing might, then delivered a savage chop that lopped off Satan's left limb and rent his wings.
Crimson misted across the heavens.
A gleam of ruthless intent crossed Lortar's features.
He had carved an opening at last.
With a savage bellow, the Kalous King plummeted with his leftover fury. The blaze encircling his halberd flared to doomsday heights, reality twisting near the edge as he readied to slam it
into the Ocean of the Blood Sun—and eradicate it utterly.