The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

"—ARRRRGHHHH!"

Azazel roared, fury vibrating stronger by the second as more of his essence fused into the Giant Dark Tree. Though Cain's gravitational suppression held his body pinned, the True Depravita's will was far from shackled. The tree groaned in response, its colossal branches snapping outward like spears, each one carrying force enough to pierce moons. They streaked toward the Scarlet King, intending to skewer him where he stood.

Cain answered with his own roar, louder, deeper—an avalanche of defiance. He burned through vast oceans of life force, his entire body trembling from the strain. The branches closed in, the air splitting under their power, until they reached him—only to be shredded the instant they drew near.

It was as if an invisible field surrounded his flesh, a barrier grinding everything that touched it down to dust at the molecular level. Branch after branch disintegrated into motes of ash.

"Damn it!" Azazel bellowed, rage twisting his face. He had thought to wound the Scarlet King, to break his concentration and free them from this prison of gravity, so they could stop the crashing world, but it was proving impossible.

Then the True Depravita shifted tactics. His focus lifted to the highest sky. The canopy of the Giant Dark Tree swelled outward, vast enough to blanket the firmament, rising like a second sky. It stretched upward, branches entwining, seeking to catch and engulf the falling world before it could strike. If he could reduce its momentum, if he could blunt its fall, then perhaps the worst could be avoided.

But the moment those branches touched the descending world, the chamber froze.

The entire canopy shattered.

The branches, said to rival the strength of ArchDeity life forms, broke like brittle twigs beneath the descending sphere. The truth was undeniable: this was no ordinary Primary World. It had been nurtured, steeped in cosmic forces of impossible magnitude, reforged into a weapon of annihilation that could not be stopped.

Shock rippled through the gathered deities. Even Legion's monstrous frame trembled. The falling world radiated power that dwarfed their expectations, its descent unavoidable and absolute; if it crashed point-blank with them, it would kill many.

"Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!" Azazel's rage boiled over, his voice raw with frustration. He understood now that stopping the world was impossible. Only one option remained.

With a violent sweep of his hand, the full might of the Giant Dark Tree bent inward. Its essence coiled around Azazel, Legion, and the ArchDeities, weaving a cocoon of branches and bark, a last desperate shield against the incoming cataclysm.

Cain's eyes narrowed as he watched. He saw them fortify themselves in their nest of roots and wood, hiding from the end. Yet he did not falter. He made no move to flee. His body continued to burn, his soul locked in determination. He would keep them all bound, immovable, trapped beneath the shadow of doom.

On the borders of BeastHeaven Continent, the armies of the Scarlet Kingdom could only stare. Awe filled their hearts. What they witnessed was not battle—it was transcendence. Majestic, horrifying, and beautiful all at once. A sight that would be etched into their souls until their last breaths.

Even Leonidas and the other ArchDeities of Cain's court felt their minds reel. He had told them only to wait, to cover him, to trust. They had believed in his miracles before, but never—not even in their wildest dreams—could they have imagined something like this.

Then the world struck.

The Primary World collided with the Giant Dark Tree, crushing its colossal trunk like a reed. The impact cascaded downward, smashing through bark, roots, and wards before slamming into the continent itself.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!"

A colossal fireball erupted, consuming sky and earth alike. A mushroom cloud of molten light unfurled, searing crimson, orange, and gold into the heavens. The firmament itself seemed aflame. The ground split apart in jagged fractures, molten rivers pouring outward, while fragments of stone and city walls hurled skyward like meteors.

The blast felt alive. A predator of fire and fury, unleashed upon the world, devouring everything in its path with insatiable hunger. Shockwaves rippled outward in concentric rings, flattening mountains, shattering strongholds, scouring the land of life.

This was not destruction. This was annihilation given form.

Where once stood the proud BeastHeaven Continent—with its fortresses, its cities—there was only flame, ruin, and silence.

And at the heart of it all lay Cain.

Resurrección had faded, leaving him in his true form. His body was ruined beyond recognition. Skin scorched black. Bones shattered. Muscles crushed beneath their own weight. His Sacred Organs torn and trembling. His Rebirth Heart and Evolution Core lay cracked, ravaged by the treasures he had detonated to fuel his last transformation.

By all rights, he was crippled.

And yet—he smiled.

Because even as his body failed, his Spiritual Destiny Force soared.

During the battle above the ocean a couple of months ago, when he had faced the Imperium of Time alone, he had burned through nearly all of it to fuel the dual Tribulation Enhancements. For this plan, he needed far more. So he gambled. He placed his destiny in the hands of the world itself—and he won.

The psychic screens had broadcasted everything. The entire world had seen the fall of BeastHeaven. The awe, the horror, the prayers—all of it fed into Cain's destiny, swelling it beyond measure. It rose like a flood, unstoppable, overwhelming, exactly as he had hoped.

"System," Cain whispered, voice cracked yet triumphant. "Activate the Gluttony Module—True Cosmic Body Nurturing Tool. Heal me."

At once, the System obeyed.

Spiritual Destiny Force drained in torrents, vanishing at terrifying speed. But Cain only laughed, his broken body shaking. The Gluttony Module worked its miracles, saturating every cell with power, mending skin and sinew, knitting bone and organ. His soul pulsed with light as his Sacred Organs repaired themselves, reforged by supernal force.

The Scarlet King had gambled everything on one impossible strike. And though he lay in the ruins of hellfire, consumed and broken, his destiny had answered.