The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2436 Savitar and Chronos

Suddenly, a pair of enormous humanoid statues stepped forth from the colossal entrance.

Both towered massively, their forms sculpted from shadowy metallic rock and etched with archaic rune designs. In their grips were huge weapons crafted from exotic substances, while the aura emanating from them pressed down with crushing intensity.

"-Intruder detected-"

"-Destroy-"

The mechanical voices of the automatons boomed across the subterranean hall as the runes on the surrounding walls burst into glow. In an instant, a horrifying gravitational field crashed down on Cain.

The force bore down relentlessly.

This gravity sealed off the very fabric of space, hindering motion and sapping vitality.

Without a moment's pause, the automatons lunged ahead.

They surged with thunderous velocity, their colossal weapons crashing down like falling stars, every blow potent enough to crumble peaks and obliterate a Mid-Level Alpha-Omega Overgod.

Beneath the suffocating gravity and the torrent of lethal might, a typical foe would have been gripped by terror.

Yet Cain merely grinned.

Through a mere mental command, he called forth the Eternum Flame.

Pure white blaze exploded from his frame, expanding in a hushed burst that engulfed the whole chamber.

The descending weapons halted in mid-air the instant the fire made contact.

Next, the flames raced onward.

The automatons got swallowed whole, their gigantic bodies seizing up as the Quietus Force halted the energy circulation in their hearts. Simultaneously, the rune arrays scattered across the room wavered and faded.

The gravitational field dissolved.

Its strength remained intact.

It merely ceased functioning.

Time's passage had been halted within it.

With all around him locked in stasis without him advancing a single pace,

a pleased grin crossed Cain's features.

His Ancestor Power proved utterly remarkable.

Steadily, he advanced.

The atmosphere hung utterly still, trapped in total immobility. Dust motes floated suspended near him, resembling stars encased in crystal.

Upon arriving at the grand entrance, Cain pressed his palm against it and shoved.

Typically, access to the Sacred Vault was guarded by

myriad seals and intricate rune barriers. But the Eternum Flame had already subdued all safeguards. With their energies iced over, the protections amounted to mere inert markings.

The huge doors swung wide.

As soon as Cain crossed the threshold, a broad grin brimming with excitement and eagerness spread across his face.

The Sacred Vault of the Aztorus Kingdom brimmed with boundless riches.

Myriad arms and suits of armor stood in neat arrays, each pulsing with potent Omens. High-grade cultivation artifacts, scarce resources, lineage-boosting items, and relics amassed across endless ages filled the space.

Still, none of it caught Cain's eye.

His focus locked onto the distant end of the chamber.

A vast archive loomed there.

As he drew nearer, the eagerness in his chest swelled.

The racks overflowed with tomes made from special substances—metal folios, gem slabs, vital hides, and recall crystals. They held documented arts, legacy routes, and cultivation paths amassed by the Aztorus Royal Family.

Cain's initial hunt was for a physique-tempering art centered on velocity—one surpassing the one he gained from Mirena.

It required effort.

Yet in the end, he located it.

The volume carried just one word:

Savitar.

Even the name pulsed with mighty essence. The second Cain projected his mind into it, the rush in his spirit surged.

The Savitar Technique promised to elevate his velocity—already rivaling a Late Alpha-Omega Overgod—to heights nearing the ultimate boundary of the Third Realm.

This outstripped all he had claimed before.

Not even his Empyrean Natural Inheritance matched this caliber.

"According to this," Cain thought, "my speed will reach a level where even Late Alpha-Omega Overgods won't be able to follow my

movements with their eyes."

Content, he tucked away the art and pressed further.

Afterward, he sought out cultivation arts.

For a Royal Blutlinie, the cultivation route was straightforward in concept:

bolster the might and clarity of the Ancestor Drop.

That said, the ways to do so varied widely. The main two paths involved:

Absorbing fellow Blutlinie

Conquering mighty Omens

Cain planned to chase after both.

Though taming Omens posed immense challenge, his link

to The Flow and the Power of Chaos granted him a huge edge. He could attune to Paradise's universal powers with far greater ease than common entities.

While he had gained mastery over the Omens of the Ocean of the Blood Sun through inheritance, they clashed with his destined route.

He required an Omen that synced flawlessly with Null Eternum.

Luckily, the Aztorus Kingdom's central Omen matched precisely what

he desired.

The Omen of Time.

It wasn't long before Cain uncovered the required art.

Actually, it consisted of not a single tome, but a trio.

Chronos Soul.

As Cain projected his mind into the legacy, his gaze brightened.

The art stood out as exceptional.

It guided the grasp of the Omen of Time by splitting it into

three facets:

Past

Present

Future

After building the core insight, the Omen could

be reshaped into an abstract blaze that dwelled in

the soul.

By nourishing it with the essences of other Blutlinie, the Time Omen would strengthen progressively.

Cain couldn't suppress a grin.

"This world truly embodies survival of the fittest. Even its highest

techniques require you to consume others to grow stronger."

Yet he sensed no unease.

Right from the start of his cultivation odyssey, he had treaded the

route of devouring.

Once assured no superior legacies lingered in the vault, Cain flicked his wrist.

All the treasures vanished into his holding realm. Arms, gear, resources, arts—every bit. The Sacred Vault ended up utterly barren. "There's no reason to leave anything behind," he mused icily.

"Besides, there won't be anyone left to reclaim it."

A cold gleam flickered in his stare.

The instant after, Cain exited the vault and materialized soaring over the

capital. The sprawling metropolis sprawled below, teeming with billions of Blutlinie persisting in their savage existences, oblivious to the catastrophe looming over them.

Cain lifted his right arm.

Over his hand, the Eternum Flame started to amass.

Ever greater white blaze coalesced, swelling in size and thickness as it drew in might. Before long, it shaped into a gigantic orb that floated above the city akin to an extra moon.

Its quiet glow bathed the whole capital.

Beneath, myriad Blutlinie glanced skyward.

Their primal senses wailed.

Peril. Demise.

Oblivion.

But prior to any response from them—

Cain dropped his hand. The lunar blaze of white fire plummeted.