The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 1999: Leviathan vs Jörmungandr

Of course, Cain did not have time to care about what others were thinking. Admiration, fear, or awe—none of it mattered. He was locked in a battle that pushed him to the absolute edge of his power.

Azazel’s Eternity Breaker was more potent than ever, lasting longer than before and inflicting far less backlash upon the True Depravita. That alone made him even more dangerous. Fortunately, Cain’s devastating Tenth Gear strike, combined with the trio’s earlier assault, had drained a vast portion of Azazel’s energy and affected his soul. That weakness gave Cain the opening he needed to seize the upper hand.

Though Ninth Gear could not compare to the overwhelming ferocity of Tenth Gear, it still endowed Cain with terrifying speed and explosive might. His figure blurred constantly, flashing after the Depravita again and again, each punch infused with gravitational collapse and the entropy of devouring flame. Every blow was destruction itself—tearing at the world, warping time and matter, unraveling existence wherever his fists landed.

And yet, Cain’s power was not static. With every clash, with every dodge and strike, his might evolved. His mastery of momentum sharpened, his instincts grew keener, and his strength surged. In the crucible of battle, he was ascending, step by step, blow by blow.

That was the power of the core of the Path of Conquest, Evolution!

Despite his wounds, Azazel’s expression remained composed. His calm was unsettling. The Scarlet King had surprised him; he and his allies did a lot of damage. But Azazel wasted no thought on regret or past mistakes. His mind was locked on the present, searching for the thread that would lead him to the best possible future.

Cain could feel it through the Flow: the unshakable calm of his enemy. Azazel was not just powerful; he was wise, composed, and infinitely dangerous. The realization made Cain’s frown deepen. The more he respected this opponent, the more his killing intent surged.

The Scarlet King attacked with everything he had.

They moved through the grey world of frozen time, Cain’s body slipping past the swing of Azazel’s sword. He countered instantly, his fist smashing into Azazel’s abdomen with ferocious force. The blow shook the True Depravita’s entrails and cracked the abyss of his chest. Yet Cain did not escape unscathed. Even as his punch landed, a second blade manifested, carving across his chest with a shriek of rending steel and flesh.

Neither warrior retreated.

They glared into each other’s eyes, absolute focus and relentless will radiating from both as they exchanged strike after strike. Their bodies regenerated almost as quickly as the wounds were carved into them, blood evaporating into streams of energy that reknit muscle and bone. It was a brutal, bloody, and unyielding battle—a true contest of divinity.

The only pauses in their struggle came when one sent the other flying, shattering the skies and tearing apart the dimensions around them, only for the foe to reappear an instant later.

To Leonidas, Juda, and the others watching from afar, the clash looked like madness itself—Cain and Azazel appearing one moment, vanishing the next, flickering through the battlefield as though they had transcended space and time. Their eyes could not keep up. Their souls could only sense the reality: this duel was being fought on a realm beyond their reach.

And yet, even from a distance, they felt it. Every time Cain and Azazel reappeared, their energies grew sharper, heavier, more lethal—power mounting without end. Until finally, the inevitable occurred.

Cain and Azazel materialized directly in the middle of the battlefield, their eyes glowing with boundless determination and immortal will. And then, both voices thundered at once:

”LIBERACIÓN TOTAL!”

The sky itself split.

Cain’s body erupted in fire, his form warping into a gargantuan entity that blended draconic grace with serpentine ferocity. Massive wings burst from his back, each beat casting waves of flame and ruin that scorched the heavens. The ground quaked as the world itself poured its energy into him, feeding his form.

”Primarch of Conquest—Leviathan!”

The colossal being roared, shaking creation itself. And this time, it was stronger than ever. The assimilation of Legion’s living remains, the growth of the Scarlet Throne—all of it had fused to elevate Leviathan to a new level of supremacy, and Cain knew he would need every drop of that strength.

For the opponent he faced was no less terrifying.

Azazel’s body warped, twisted, and grew until he stood revealed in his truest form.

”Snake at the End of Time—Jörmungandr!”

What emerged was a horror that embodied inevitability itself. A serpent-dragon of apocalyptic scale, coiled with impossible immensity, its form bristling with spines and monstrous wings that swallowed the sky. Multiple arms sprouted from its body, each ending in curved claws like scythes sharp enough to rend both flesh and reality.

Its hide was pallid, stone-like, etched with ancient scars that reeked of eternity. Its head was narrow, angular, its maw stretching into an abyss of eternal hunger. And its eyes—black voids that devoured all light—shone with a hunger not for flesh, but for time itself.

Around Jörmungandr, shadows rippled unnaturally, and the flow of existence faltered. The world’s pulse froze, the rhythm of reality stuttered. His mere presence was a denial of time’s current.

The sheer power of their forms dwarfed all others. Leonidas, Juda, Bael, Amon—every ArchDeity nearby was flung back as waves of force swept outward, tossing them like leaves in a hurricane.

The two most powerful beings in the Everstrife Empyrean World had fully revealed themselves. For the third time, Cain and Azazel clashed—but this time in forms that embody their true natures, as sovereigns of destruction, divine beasts of apocalyptic power.

”ROOOOAAAAAARRRRR!”

”ARRRRGGGHHHHHH!”

The dragon and the serpent roared together, their voices alone shattering the sky. Then they charged. No fear. No hesitation. Only killing intent, only the will to destroy.

”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!”

A detonation of crimson fire and white plasma erupted, sweeping across all directions as Leviathan and Jörmungandr collided.

Leviathan’s massive arms swung with infernal might, his fists hammering into Jörmungandr’s upper body, pushing the serpent’s colossal frame backward. For a moment, Cain pressed the advantage, forcing his foe into retreat.

But the True Depravita was no prey.

His multiple claws pierced through Leviathan’s ribs, rending scales and muscle, drawing rivers of blazing blood.