The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2549 Time to forge my throne

"How long has it passed? How much time has gone by?"

Those queries reverberated ceaselessly inside the Dark Blood King's thoughts, cycling in an unbreakable pattern.

"A hundred years? A thousand years? Or merely moments?"

"Do I still live... or am I already dead?"

"What's going on?"

"Why does nothing stir?"

"Am I still drawing breath?"

His mind spawned countless thoughts uncontrollably, splitting into myriad desperate forms, growing ever more frantic. Awareness persisted in him, but all else had ground to a halt without purpose.

A total rift separated sensing from reacting. Sensory input somehow still arrived at his mind-but it never

turned into any response. No motion came from his body. His soul stayed inert. Even those keen instincts of old now lingered as hollow remnants confined in emptiness.

Not mere fear gripped him.

Something far more dreadful did.

His grasp of reality had utterly crumbled.

Terror fell short of capturing it. A choking, perpetual dread engulfed him, where time's very notion vanished. Each instant dragged on forever, yet no progress occurred. Thoughts whirled wildly, but paralysis held him captive within his own mind, offering no way out.

Suddenly, a shift occurred.

An entity invaded.

Faint initially, like a remote wave stirring a calm sea, it sharpened rapidly moment by moment. The Dark Blood King sensed an intrusion into his mind-something probing, something total. It felt like a digit plunging straight into his psyche, evading every shield, disregarding every wall.

One idea dominated all.

"Will death claim me?"

Despair flooded in.

"Yes... yes! Slay me! Stop this torment!"

The voiceless cry thundered across his awareness, producing no audible noise.

Beyond that immobilized view, Cain observed steadily, noting the dying gleam in the Dark Blood King's gaze. The former sovereign of a whole domain now lingered merely as a caged mind in a limp husk.

Cain saw that final glimmer extinguish.

The psyche crumbled.

The resistance ceased.

Death did not take the Dark Blood King.

Rather, his awareness merely... crumbled.

Cain breathed out steadily, his face unmoved. No triumph lit his eyes, no malice, no mercy. From the domain's emergence, this result was fated. Yet he spared the figure's destruction.

A vital role awaited the Dark Blood King, much like the Nirvana Crown Prince's.

Crucially, extracting him from the Ancestor Domain with any awareness remnant posed risks. Drained of reserves, Cain chose assurance.

With the Dark Blood King handled, Cain shifted focus to the battlefield's remainder.

The Royal Blutlinie trapped in the domain fared no better than the masses already slain. Methodically and swiftly, Cain extracted their souls and Ancestor Drops, one after another.

Unlike lesser foes, their forms retained worth, so he kept them intact rather than letting them dissolve fully. Only once all assets were claimed did Cain ease a fraction.

His Ancestor Eye's glow softened as the domain retracted, its vast force flowing back into his Perfect Ancestor Drop. Though the domain waned, its world-altering impacts lingered on.

The capital stayed locked in stasis.

Structures floated motionless aloft, rubble fixed as though time stood still. Decay halted, but activity did not resume. Reality seemed bent to obedience, barred from its normal rhythm after such dominant force's rule.

Thoughtfully, Cain surveyed the vista.

"My strength now reshapes this land's Laws," he whispered softly. "Such is a Fourth Realm power's real force."

A note of recognition colored his voice, not awe, but comprehension. Paradise's inhabitants, particularly the Royal Blutlinie, indeed merited Apex Race status.

Yet Cain pushed the reflection aside.

He dropped toward the capital's wreckage, aiming directly for the

vault hidden under the city. Relentlessly, he looted every prize, stashing myriad valuables in his spatial treasure. Just one object he left alone.

As Cain ascended skyward again, he clutched that lone piece

-a gauntlet.

Upon merging with his arm, the effect struck instantly.

A fierce power burst forth, syncing with his armor's other parts. Energy surged fluidly across the full ensemble, at last forming the complete set.

A deafening blast reverberated through the skies.

The armor, now completely roused, unveiled its authentic shape, taking on the form of a dragon-like beast brimming with grand splendor. A colossal sword protruded from the gauntlet, glowing with an energy that appeared able to cleave through the void itself.

This change extended far beyond mere looks.

A torrent of insights poured into Cain's thoughts, unveiling the identity and essence of the relic he now commanded.

"Sacred Treasure... Omnissiah."

His words boomed across the heavens while surges of devastating power lashed out in every direction, etching profound gashes across ground and atmosphere alike.

Under his helm, Cain grinned.

Immense might flowed through his veins, dwarfing anything he'd wielded previously. However, the thrill proved fleeting.

Chill quickly gripped his eyes.

"I need to prepare," Cain murmured softly, his voice gaining an edge. His eyes locked onto the myriad fortresses dotting

the Ninth Realm. The Chaos Seal in his chest kept

unfurling moment by moment, yet time slipped away fast. The Nightmare Sacred King of Chaos

and Order might strike before the seal came undone completely.

Should that occur, Cain would face a battle he wasn't prepared for.

Enduring such a clash demanded more than raw power.

It called for preparations of epic proportions. The Dark Blood King had assembled numerous realm elites

in a single spot, yet it fell short. Countless billions of Blutlinie lingered across the Ninth Realm, and Cain craved every edge possible.

To be exact, he sought their souls and Ancestor Drops. Cain had orchestrated slaughters in the past, but none this vast. Contemplating the annihilation of a whole realm could rattle most, yet for him, it stood as merely an essential move.

"Well," he remarked with a light shrug, "there's a first time for everything."

Thus, the pursuit commenced.

Fortress by fortress crumbled. Whole communities vanished as

Cain harvested their core, preserving their husks for later. Terror rippled swiftly, with the aware ones scrambling to conceal themselves, deploying all tricks to escape his grasp.

It changed nothing.

Via the Power of Karma, Cain tracked them without fail.

Despite his blistering pace, the Ninth Realm's immensity forced choices, so he targeted Third Realm foes first, wiping them out alongside their links. In his view, no targets differed.

Blutlinie were innate slayers, consuming siblings even in the womb. Cain harbored zero regret.

Should Paradise uncover the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe, survival belonged to just one faction.

Nine months elapsed amid this unyielding carnage. Billions met their end, transformed into fuel for Cain's rise.

Finally, he halted.

Faint weariness etched his features, but his determination stood firm.

Plenty of duties loomed still. The upcoming one ranked among

the utmost priorities.

His sight fixed on the Ocean of the Blood Sun.

"It's time," he whispered gently, "to forge my throne."