The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2473: Noah’s Flood

The void ignited once more with overwhelming waves of death and destruction.

The main army of the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance had received no reinforcements. No new legions had emerged from hidden worlds. No secret weapons had suddenly been unveiled.

And yet, their power increased.

The reason was simple.

There was now a chance of victory.

Warriors did not truly need eloquent speeches or intricate strategies. What they needed was conviction—the unshakable belief that they could win. Even in the darkest hour, if a sliver of hope remained, they would seize it. If they believed that the tide could be turned, that the enemy could be defeated, they would fight with a will fierce enough to shatter their own limits again and again.

The arrival of an extremely powerful Alpha Omega Overgod from a foreign universe had given them exactly that.

The True Primordial and the True Depravita fought with every ounce of strength and determination in their bodies and souls. They attacked simultaneously, focusing entirely on harming Robuke. Neither cared in the slightest about the damage inflicted upon their own flesh.

Why would they?

With the Samsara Runic Set and the Depravita Constitution, their bodies possessed near-immortal regenerative abilities. They could endure immense pain and devastating wounds so long as they carved deeper injuries into the Monster of the Root.

Though it was two against one, Robuke still held his ground.

But with every passing second, the battle grew more difficult for him.

His body was monstrous and resilient, yet his regeneration was inferior to that of his opponents. Every severe wound he suffered reduced his battle power ever so slightly—and that gradual decline was dangerous.

With a ferocious roar, Robuke swung his axe and struck Anark square in the chest. The blow tore open a massive wound and sent the True Primordial flying backward through the void.

At the same instant, Meylin appeared before him.

Her blade sliced through his shoulder, cutting deep to the bone and incinerating the rotting flesh along its path. A searing psychic force followed the strike, destabilizing his mind for a fraction of a second.

Robuke clenched his teeth but did not falter. Switching his axe to his other hand, he swung upward in a brutal arc, smashing into Meylin’s face and sending blood scattering through the void.

Yet before he could celebrate, Anark was already back.

The True Primordial reappeared like a violet comet and drove his fist into Robuke’s chest, just above his heart. Primordial Void Force erupted on impact, cracking bone and sending the abomination rolling across space, spewing mouthfuls of necrotic blood.

That was all Meylin needed.

Her wounds regenerated rapidly, golden light sealing flesh and bone. She glanced at Anark. No words were exchanged—only a silent nod.

They surged forward together.

With every exchange, they adapted to one another’s rhythm. Their coordination sharpened, their timing refined. Each second, they improved.

Without wasting even a fraction of a heartbeat, they resumed their assault.

Their clash was so intense that space-time collapsed continuously around them. Reality fractured and reformed in chaotic cycles, making it impossible for anyone below the Alpha–Omega Overgod level to approach.

Not that they needed to worry.

Across the battlefield, the Champions and High Lords of the Root were locked in life-and-death struggles with their counterparts from the Alliance. The supreme warriors of the Six Sacred Races, the Knights of the Scarlet Throne, and countless other ferocious and courageous powerhouses unleashed overwhelming explosions of strength that even surprised themselves.

They broke limits. They defied exhaustion. They burned their lifespans without hesitation.

Yet despite their bravery and might, the situation slowly turned dangerous.

In terms of peak powerhouses, the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance could match the Root.

But in numbers—they were hopelessly outmatched.

For every Arch-Deity the Alliance fielded, the Root sent ten.

For every Primordial Deity, the Root deployed a hundred.

Even if the Alliance’s elites were stronger and bore superior treasures, there came a point where sheer numbers made a difference.

The hordes of the Root were endless.

Robuke fought with everything he had. Despite the massive wounds carved across his putrefying body, a twisted smile began to form on his face as he noticed something beyond the immediate battle.

The abomination horde was drawing closer to the Everstrife Empyrean World.

"I may not defeat you two," Robuke spat, his voice dripping with venom, "but I will still see your world rot beneath our might."

Anark clenched his teeth.

He wanted to shout encouragement, to demand that the warriors push harder—but he could see it clearly. They were already giving everything. Heart. Soul. Lifespan. Blood.

And still, they could not hold back the tidal wave of abominations.

Robuke fed on that frustration.

But when his gaze shifted to Meylin, he did not see despair.

He saw coldness.

Patience.

A quiet certainty.

"What is she waiting for?" he wondered.

As that thought crossed his mind, the void above the battlefield began to glow.

At first, it was faint—like distant stars flickering into existence. Then more lights appeared. Hundreds. Thousands. Countless golden points fill the sky like a newborn constellation.

"It’s about time," Meylin said softly, her voice calm and unhurried.

Then a voice echoed—not merely across the battlefield, but across the entire universe. It reverberated through existence itself, as if carried by an unseen current flowing through all creation.

"Noah’s Flood."

The golden lights solidified.

They became real.

And then they fell.

Shooting stars—thousands upon thousands—rained down faster than light. Each streaked through the void with terrifying precision, striking directly into the hordes of the Root.

The impact was devastating.

Monstrous wails echoed across the battlefield as abominations were ripped apart by the falling stars. The golden rain pierced through corrupted flesh, shattered bones, and annihilated twisted souls.

Thousands died every second.

The void filled with explosions of dark blood and collapsing bodies as the radiant meteors continued their descent without pause.

The tide of the battlefield trembled.

For the first time since the Universe Will fell silent, the endless advance of the Root slowed.