The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2133: No serenity, only chaos

”I see,” Tiramisu said softly, her eyes fixed on the man before her. ”Your creativity and courage are truly... astounding.”

Her voice held neither mockery nor disdain, but genuine respect. She lowered her gaze to her shoulder, where her right arm had been torn away.

”Before my transformation,” she murmured, ”a wound like this might have made me reconsider continuing the fight. Unfortunately for you...”

Her aura ignited.

The Depravita Aura burst outward, then collapsed inward upon itself, concentrating into the torn flesh of her shoulder. At a speed visible even to mortal eyes, bones grew anew, muscle fibers wove together, and veins pulsed with rekindled life. Within seconds, her arm had reformed completely.

”Even a missing limb,” she said, flexing her fingers, ”is nothing more than a mild inconvenience for an Alpha Omega Overgod True Depravita.”

She clenched her fist, and the air screamed. The killing intent in her eyes blazed even brighter.

”You have my respect, young man,” she said, her voice now carrying the weight of a vow. ”So I will attack you with everything I have.”

Red light surged around her as her wrathful energy flared skyward, forming a colossal pillar of destruction. The very air rippled under the sheer power radiating from her.

She vanished—leaving only the echo of thunder in her wake.

The Crimson Exarch, battered and pale, did not move. His body trembled from the backlash of his unorthodox Flow Art, and his left arm still burned with pain. Yet there was no fear in his golden eyes.

Instead, a faint smile touched his lips.

Because just as Tiramisu reached him, someone moved past him—swift as light—and intercepted her.

”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!”

Claw met fist. Red and turquoise energy exploded outward, colliding in waves that shook the Fourth Ring itself. The shockwave leveled entire ridges of obsidian and sent streams of molten glass flying into the air. Both figures were forced backward, their auras clashing like twin stars.

Tiramisu’s eyes narrowed.

Her opponent was no ordinary being.

The one standing before her, glowing in turquoise light, was Braldy—the Neo-Angel.

His expression was cold, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with the True Depravita of Primal Fury.

”You know what to do,” he said simply, his voice even.

He didn’t look back at the Crimson Exarch. There was no need.

As he spoke, turquoise light coursed through his veins, tracing every artery and capillary in his body. His divine blood ignited, magnifying his strength until his aura crackled with barely contained force.

Then he lunged.

Tiramisu grinned, her wrath answering his challenge in kind. Her aura roared back to life, red lightning surging across her body as she charged to meet him.

”BOOOOOOOMMMMM!”

”BOOOOOOOOM!”

”BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!”

The entire Fourth Ring convulsed as red and turquoise collided again and again. Each impact shattered the ground and tore open the air, creating fissures that bled light. Their battle resembled the collision of two supernovas—radiant, devastating, endless.

The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

But the Crimson Exarch could not afford to watch.

He turned, eyes locking on the gate to the Fifth Ring standing tall in the distance. Its obsidian frame glowed faintly with threads of silver light, and within it swirled a storm of radiant beams—thousands of them, each moving in complex, ever-shifting patterns.

He moved.

In moments, he was before the gate. As his hand pressed against its surface, a deep, ancient voice echoed within his mind, delivering the next trial’s command.

He understood immediately.

He had to absorb every stream of energy around the gate and redirect them into their corresponding keyholes within its core—each one a lock shaped by the essence of the Flow.

It was not a particularly complex task for someone of his level. Under normal circumstances, he could have completed it easily.

But now, he needed to do it fast.

Very fast.

Because even though Braldy seemed to be holding his ground against Tiramisu, the Exarch could feel through Synchronization that the Neo-Angel’s body was fracturing from within. His internal injuries were severe, remnants of a previous battle not too long ago.

If the Exarch weren’t quick enough, those wounds would reopen—and when they did, Tiramisu would crush him effortlessly. Then the rest of them would fall.

The Crimson Exarch gritted his teeth and forced his mangled left arm upward. Each movement sent spikes of agony through his body, but he ignored it. His golden eyes blazed like twin suns as he began the process.

He seized the first streams of energy, channeling them through his hands and into the gate’s keyholes. Each beam resisted, vibrating violently, threatening to tear his damaged flesh apart.

He could not stop.

The process demanded precision and serenity, but there was no serenity here—only chaos. The battlefield behind him thundered as Braldy and Tiramisu’s duel escalated. Each clash shook the air, sending tremors through the ground that threatened to break his concentration.

Still, he persisted, redirecting one stream after another.

Turquoise and red flashes painted the world around him as titans fought.

From the start, Braldy was being pushed back. Even at full strength, the Neo-Angel was weaker than the True Depravita of Primal Fury. And now, with his body burdened by old wounds, every blow left cracks across his divine frame.

But he did not yield.

He could not.

He kept fighting, pushing his body far beyond its limits—every strike a desperate prayer to buy the Exarch a few more seconds.

Meanwhile, not far from them, Amazo and Ana fought their own difficult battles.

Ana clashed with Ikmael, the Peak ArchDeity True Depravita, their power so immense that each collision sent ripples through the stars above. Neither could gain the upper hand.

Amazo, however, was less fortunate. He had believed that his higher cultivation would give him an advantage over the Enlightened One, but he quickly discovered his mistake.

Despite his seemingly lower rank, the Enlightened One’s physical strength matched Amazo’s, and his strategy was brutal—he used the falling stars themselves as weapons, bending their trajectories and detonating them mid-air in explosive bursts.

Every second, another star fell, another shockwave tore through the battlefield.

The situation was deteriorating fast.

The Freedom Path’s warriors were being overwhelmed. The scythe of death hovered close, its shadow creeping nearer with every heartbeat.

And the only one who could change their fate—the only one who could open the gate—was the Crimson Exarch.

His vision blurred. Blood trickled from his nose and eyes, staining his face crimson as the Flow inside him raged beyond safe limits, but he just moved faster.

One beam redirected.

Then another.

Then ten more.

The keyholes lit up one by one, each resonating with a deep hum that shook the air. The gate began to glow faintly, its runes flickering to life.

But it wasn’t enough yet.

Not fast enough.

He pressed harder, drawing more power, channeling faster, even as his left hand burned and blackened.