The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 2473 Noah's Flood

The emptiness blazed anew with torrents of devastation and demise.

No reinforcements arrived for the primary forces of the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance. Legions failed to appear from concealed realms. Secret armaments remained hidden, never revealed.

Nevertheless, their strength surged upward.

The explanation lay in simplicity.

Victory now presented a real possibility.

Fighters truly required no grand orations or complex tactics. Conviction was their essence-the ironclad faith in triumph. Amid the bleakest moments, a mere spark of hope sufficed for them to grasp it. Believing the momentum could shift, the foes could fall, they battled with resolve potent enough to break personal boundaries repeatedly.

The emergence of a supremely mighty Alpha Omega Overgod from an alien cosmos delivered precisely that boost.

The True Primordial along with the True Depravita unleashed all their bodily and spiritual vigor and resolve. They struck at the same moment, concentrating solely on inflicting damage to Robuke. Their own bodily harm meant nothing to them.

Why should it?

Thanks to the Samsara Runic Set and Depravita Constitution, their forms boasted almost eternal healing powers. Vast agony and catastrophic injuries they could withstand, provided they inflicted even graver harm on the Monster of the Root.

Even outnumbered two to one, Robuke maintained his stance.

However, each ticking moment intensified the challenge for him.

Though his frame was grotesque and tough, his recovery lagged behind his adversaries'. Each grave injury he endured chipped away at his combat prowess bit by bit-that slow erosion posed a grave threat.

Letting out a savage bellow, Robuke wielded his axe to bash Anark directly in the torso. The impact ripped a huge gash and hurled the True Primordial hurtling rearward across the emptiness.

In that very moment, Meylin materialized in front of him.

Her sword carved into his shoulder, delving to the bone and burning the decaying tissue in its wake. A burning mental energy trailed the cut, disrupting his thoughts for the briefest instant.

Robuke gritted his teeth yet stayed steady. Transferring his axe to the opposite hand, he slashed in a savage upward curve, crashing into Meylin's visage and spraying crimson droplets into the void.

But prior to any triumph, Anark returned.

The True Primordial burst back akin to a purple meteor and slammed his fist into Robuke's torso, right over the heart. Primordial Void Force burst forth upon collision, splintering bone and flinging the monstrosity tumbling through the cosmos, vomiting gouts of deadened blood.

That opportunity was all Meylin required.

Her injuries healed swiftly, aureate radiance mending tissue and skeleton. She looked toward Anark. No speech passed between them-just a wordless incline of the head.

Together, they charged ahead.

In each confrontation, they synced with each other's pace. Their teamwork honed sharper, their synchronization polished finer. Moment by moment, they advanced.

Not squandering the tiniest pulse, they recommenced their barrage.

Their confrontation raged so fiercely that space-time crumbled relentlessly nearby. Existence splintered and mended in wild loops,

rendering approach impossible for any beneath the Alpha-Omega Overgod tier.

Though concern was unnecessary anyway.

Throughout the field of conflict, the Root's Champions and High Lords engaged in desperate duels against Alliance equivalents. Elite fighters from the Six Sacred Races, Scarlet Throne Knights, and myriad other bold and valiant titans erupted with bursts of power that astonished even them.

They shattered barriers. They resisted fatigue. They sacrificed years of life without a second thought.

Still, for all their valor and force, peril crept in gradually.

Regarding top-tier experts, the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance equaled the Root.

Yet regarding quantity-they suffered utter defeat.

Per each Arch-Deity deployed by the Alliance, the Root countered with ten.

Per each Primordial Deity, the Root mustered a hundred. Though Alliance superiors proved mightier and wielded better artifacts, eventually raw volume tipped the scales.

The Root's swarms knew no end.

Robuke battled employing all his resources. Amid the enormous lacerations etched over his festering form, a warped grin started twisting his features as he perceived an element outside the current fray.

The horde of monstrosities neared the Everstrife Empyrean World.

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

Anark ground his teeth.

He yearned to yell motivation, to urge the fighters to strive more-but the truth was evident. They poured out all they had. Heart. Soul. Lifespan. Blood.

Yet even so, the deluge of horrors could not be stemmed.

Robuke thrived on that dismay.

However, as his eyes turned to Meylin, despair was absent.

Coldness met him.

Patience.

A serene assurance.

"What is she waiting for?" he pondered.

While that notion flitted through his thoughts, the emptiness over the conflict zone started

to shine.

Initially, it shimmered dimly-like far-off stars blinking to life. Then additional gleams emerged. Hundreds. Thousands. Innumerable aureate specks crowded the heavens like a fresh-formed star cluster.

"It's about time," Meylin murmured gently, her tone steady and leisurely. Then a proclamation resounded-not just over the field, but throughout the whole cosmos. It thrummed via reality's fabric, as though borne on an invisible stream coursing all of being.

"Noah's Flood."

The aureate gleams took solid form.

They turned tangible.

And then they plummeted. Meteors-thousands beyond thousands-cascaded swifter than light. Every one blazed across the emptiness with horrifying accuracy,

smashing straight into the Root's masses.

The effect proved catastrophic.

Hideous shrieks resounded over the field as horrors got

torn asunder by the plummeting stars. The golden deluge bored through

tainted meat, pulverized skeletons, and eradicated warped essences.

Thousands perished each instant.

The emptiness brimmed with blasts of ebony ichor and crumbling forms as

the luminous projectiles kept plunging relentlessly.

The battle's flow quivered.

For the initial occasion since the Universe Will went mute, the Root's ceaseless push halted.