The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2425 Fourth Realm Treasures

"ZNNNN-!"

A piercing cry of ripping flesh resounded over the chaotic field as the Aztorus King plunged an obsidian bone sword directly into the Kalous King's chest.

Lortar seized the blade and, channeling every ounce of his strength, halted its descent.

The sword appeared hideous and timeless. Its edge resembled smoothed petrified bone, dark like voidstone, with a lone living eye set into the hilt. That eye throbbed steadily, emitting temporal energy so thick and pure that it eclipsed even Eonar's own aura.

Time twisted near the weapon.

Space quivered.

A surge of fear flashed in Lortar's gaze the moment he identified it. "You brought the Blade of the End of Times to this battle..." the Kalous King snarled, blood dripping from his mouth. "I believed your realm had locked it away after the Omen Soul within raged out of control and consumed the former Aztorus King."

Eonar smirked.

It was icy.

And arrogant.

"My father was feeble," he answered evenly. "He didn't possess the resolve—or the Ancestor Drop—to master such a tool. His demise was fitting."

He turned the blade a bit.

The tissue near the injury started to wither and crumble at a frantic pace, as though ages of rot were crammed into one pulse.

"I stand apart," Eonar went on. "My determination outmatches the Omen Soul, and my Ancestor Drop harmonizes flawlessly with it. I can unleash its full potential completely."

Lortar's face grew stern.

He refused to cry out.

Instead, he drew in a deep breath and stretched out one arm.

A massive halberd formed in his hold, and he struck without delay, compelling Eonar to yank back the weapon and withdraw. Even though the Aztorus King moved swiftly, a searing gash emerged on his side.

The armament called forth by the Kalous King was grand and fearsome—its handle crafted from mysterious red alloy, its edge ringed with churning plasma that scorched so fiercely it warped the atmosphere. As soon as it emerged, the Blood Sun Ocean's surface below started to vaporize fiercely, huge plumes of blood-mist climbing toward the heavens.

Eonar's grin faded.

"So those odd cubes weren't the sole presents your heir fetched from the Dark Blood Kingdom," he whispered.

Lortar stayed silent.

He dropped into a crouch, clutching the halberd firmly with both hands while the heat surrounding him soared. The very fabric of space began to dissolve, curving and distorting near his form until his outline seemed broken and unsteady.

Eonar's murderous aura flared.

He lifted the Blade of the End of Times overhead.

Temporal force burst forth, creating scores—nay, multitudes—of layered echoes of Eonar in every direction, all authentic, all lethal.

In under an instant—

They clashed.

The instant sword clashed with halberd, a blast of crimson and azure power ripped through. For a fleeting moment, a tiny star ignited in the heavens, unleashing ruin everywhere. The shockwaves crushed clouds, crumbled far-off peaks, and compelled even the Alpha-Omega Overgod Royal Blutlinie to fall back.

The monarchs' duel had shifted to a whole new level.

Cain observed it all.

Each motion.

Each surge of power.

Each clash of arms, heritage, and Omens.

Wonder and alarm coursed through his spirit.

He had witnessed myriad mighty relics in the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe and the Crimson World—but these arms were unique.

"They surpass the bounds of the Third Realm," Cain understood. "I can't verify if they count as genuine Fourth Realm Treasures... yet they clearly outclass any Alpha-Omega Overgod armament. The boost they grant is terrifying."

Wariness rose inside him.

Yet his resolve held firm.

This conflict would serve as the forge for his renewed form.

With the pair of rulers unleashing their utmost fury, the wider fray mirrored them.

Royal Blutlinie from each faction intensified their assaults, withholding nothing more. Prima Deity and ArchDeity Blutlinie battled in savage turmoil, endless corpses tumbling into the Blood Sun Ocean, where the tides swallowed them without mercy.

Friend or foe—it mattered not.

The sea claimed everything.

Right as the fight hit its peak, a fierce blast boomed afar.

The two metal cubes invoked before by the Kalous King burst from the blood sea.

They bore severe harm—runes fractured, exteriors split—but their hearts still throbbed with dread might. Without pause, they darted toward the rulers' zone.

Eonar's brow furrowed sharply.

Those relics posed grave threats. Despite his advantage, he couldn't tolerate such meddling.

Lortar, though, grinned.

With those cubes aiding him, the scales might finally turn.

But his victory proved brief.

Dozens of enormous blood limbs surged from the Blood Sun Ocean, coiling around the metal cubes and stopping them in flight. Scarlet bonds of fluid might constricted, scraping at the devices and blocking their path.

"I can't restrain them forever!" The Blood King's roar echoed over the field. "Finish him—now!"

Though aimed at Eonar, the call stirred every line.

The conflict erupted with heightened savagery.

Each force forsook all protection, bent only on destruction.

Eonar's mouth twisted into a feral smile as grim ideas filled his thoughts.

"Thank you, Blood King.

For that, I shall make your end swift and without pain."

Igniting his vital essence without restraint, Eonar drove past his thresholds. The Blade of the End of Times wailed as its temporal might amplified, skewing Lortar's senses and slowing his responses by mere slivers of time.

That sufficed.

The dark blade ripped across Lortar's torso again, slicing through the old cut and etching a fiery temporal mark into his body.

Lortar reeled.

For the first time, real peril gleamed in his eyes.

Eonar hoisted his sword, poised to claim the Kalous King's life—

When abruptly—

"BOOM!"

Away in the distance, the blood limbs burst asunder.

The metal cubes at last escaped.

Each fired rays of devastating force, crashing straight into Eonar's frame.

Blinding radiance engulfed the battlefield.