The Siege of Chaos.
The Desperate Evacuation.
"Quick! Everyone, get into the Warhead! You'll be safe there!" Nealon's voice boomed across the battlefield, cutting through the cacophony of clashing steel and monstrous screeches. Her armor, dented and smeared with the ichor of fallen Chaos creatures, gleamed under the eerie glow of the dying stars above.
Carel, his breath ragged and uneven, shook his head. "I don't think everyone will make it in time." His hands trembled as he tightened his grip on his weapon, his eyes darting between the fleeing civilians and the encroaching tide of shadowy figures.
The Frontlines of Madness.
On the battlefield, the air was thick with the stench of blood and ozone. Zerich, a whirlwind of destruction, tore through the Chaos creatures with savage glee. His laughter rang out like a war cry. "Ya! Ya! Ya!" Each swing of his blade sent limbs flying, blackened blood splattering across the scorched earth.
He grinned at Yoton, who moved with lethal precision beside him. "This is fun! They're not exactly strong, but their numbers make up for it!"
Yoton decapitated three creatures in a single motion, his expression grim. "You're too amused, Zerich. These abominations may be weak to us, but they slaughtered gods and entire armies across the Verse."
Zerich chuckled, cleaving through another wave. "Hah! Our men are enjoying themselves too. Sure, the enemy outnumbers us—but that just makes it more entertaining!"
Nealon's voice crackled through their comms. "Carel, you're in charge here. Ensure everyone boards the Warhead. I'm joining the fight."
Carel saluted sharply. "Yes, my lord."
As Nealon sprinted toward the battlefield, the ground trembled beneath her boots. The war was far from over.
The Unending Tide.
Zerich's grin faded as fatigue crept into his muscles. "Damn it, I'm getting tired. It's like their numbers never end!"
Nealon arrived, her eyes widening at the horizon. "Look ahead! Another wave approaches!"
Yoton's jaw clenched. "Laxus! Give me an estimate!"
Laxus, their strategist, responded instantly. "My lords… the third wave… it's the entire Chaos horde of the Verse. Three hundred million strong."
Zerich's blood ran cold. "You're kidding! How the hell did they all gather here? They were supposed to be scattered!"
Yoton's grip on his weapon tightened. "This isn't random. Someone is controlling them."
Nealon nodded, her voice low. "Agreed. And whoever it is wants us dead."
The Hidden Conspiracy.
Deep within the Cronoverse, in the War Faction's hidden meeting grounds, Amiss observed the battle through a swirling portal.
"Hmm. They've realized someone controls the creatures," she mused.
Nielan, his eyes burning with fury, snarled. "Continue the plan, Amiss. It doesn't matter what they know. One of them must die."
Amiss smirked. "Of course, my lord. I'll merge all the Chaos into a single vessel—one powerful enough to erase them."
Nielan turned away. "Do as you wish. I have a meeting with the Abyssal King."
As he vanished into the shadows, Amiss's smile twisted into something darker. "Leach. Come here."
A shadowy figure materialized. "Yes, my lady?"
"Begin the true plan. And ensure no one—not even the Chief—notices."
Leach bowed. "Understood."
Amiss exhaled, her voice a whisper. "Forgive me, Chief… but while you seek power, I seek dominion over life and death itself."
Leach hesitated. "Are you prepared to kill them all?"
Amiss's eyes gleamed. "Not yet. The Chief still has his uses. But when the time comes… no one will be spared."
The Battle's Turning Tide.
Back on the battlefield, the Supreme Troops clashed against the endless horde. Cannons from the Warhead rained destruction, but the Chaos creatures kept coming.
The air grew heavy with despair. Blood flowed like rivers, severed limbs littered the ground, and the cries of the dying filled the void.
Zerich panted, his divine energy waning. "Now I see how they kill gods… they drain our power without us even realizing!"
Yoton, equally exhausted, roared in frustration. "This can't be! I'm a Ruler! Why am I struggling against these things?!"
Nealon's voice was urgent. "We must retreat! If we stay, we die!"
Zerich barked orders. "Laxus! Status report!"
"Fifty thousand dead. A hundred thousand injured. Another fifty thousand… they're losing their divinity."
Nealon's heart pounded. "Sound the retreat! Full withdrawal! Leave no one behind!"
As the troops fell back, Yoton turned to Nealon. "Order the Warhead to cover us!"
The Descent into Chaos.
The battlefield was a maelstrom of fire and steel, the air thick with the stench of burning magic and shattered resolve. Nealon's signal had been the spark—the Warhead's colossal air cannons roared to life, their concussive force ripping through the enemy ranks like a hurricane of pure destruction. The ground trembled as the cannons unleashed their fury, buying precious seconds for the retreating troops.
"Retreat! Every last one of you—GO, GO, GO! Move your damn legs or I'll leave you here to rot!" Zerich's voice was a whip-crack of command, his face twisted into a snarl of aggression. His words carried the weight of desperation, a general watching his army crumble before an unforeseen horror.
And then—success. Through the combined efforts of the Warhead and the three commanders, the retreat seemed assured. The surviving soldiers scrambled back, their boots kicking up ash and blood as they fled the carnage.
But fate had other plans.
"Hey… are you all seeing this?" Yoton's voice cut through the chaos, his tone laced with disbelief.
Zerich's eyes narrowed. "The fuck are they doing?"
Nealon's breath hitched. "It's like… they're becoming one."
Before them, the remnants of their enemies—twisted, monstrous creatures—began to merge. Limbs fused, shadows coiled, and a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and darkness took form. The air itself grew dense, oppressive, as if the world recoiled from the abomination's birth.
Zerich's face paled. "This battle… this is what I didn't plan for. I thought they'd be easy spoils." His voice was hollow, stripped of its usual arrogance.
Yoton let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Ha! I can't believe it—the battle freak himself is actually afraid of the chaos!"
Zerich's jaw clenched. "We can't win, Yoton. We need to leave. Now. The air… it's too heavy."
But it was too late.
The creatures had fully merged, their monstrous form solidifying into something far worse—something sentient. And then it spoke.
"You're not escaping from here." The voice was a chorus of nightmares, a sound that shouldn't exist. "None of you are."
Nealon's blood ran cold. "Impossible… it speaks."
The Chaos God raised its clawed hand, and the world obeyed.
"Let everything I see before me stand still until first light." Its words were a curse, a decree. "Come forth, Rishin."
Time itself fractured.
The spell washed over the battlefield like a tidal wave, freezing the Warhead mid-retreat. Soldiers locked in mid-step, their faces frozen in terror. The very flow of existence stuttered under the weight of the Chaos God's power.
Nealon's breath came in ragged gasps. "The troops… they're imbued with its spell."
Carel's voice was a strained whisper. "I can… barely move."
Zerich's rage burned through the paralysis. "There's no way in hell we're leaving here without killing that fucker."
Yoton's grin was feral. "I know. Let's go, Nealon. Zerich—you stay here. Protect the Warhead with the few who can still move."
Zerich gave a sharp nod. "Sure."
Nealon's fingers curled into fists. "Alright. Let's go."
The two commanders leapt from the Warhead, their forms cutting through the frozen battlefield like blades through silk. The Chaos God turned, its many eyes locking onto them with unholy glee.
"Ahhh… I see you can still move." Its voice was a mockery of delight. "Well, that's no surprise. You are rulers, after all—the only race known as the Ultimate Existence."
Yoton's teeth bared. "This bastard mocks us."
Nealon didn't waste words. His hands moved in a blur, arcane sigils igniting in the air as he began his chant.
"I call upon the sword and blood. I call upon the gates of the Underworld to consume all who stand in my way." The ground beneath him cracked, shadows writhing like serpents. "Come forth—Voidornor!"
But the Chaos God was faster.
Before Nealon's spell could fully manifest, the abomination's voice slithered through the air, its own incantation tearing reality asunder.
"I am death itself, and the Underworld cannot consume me." Its laughter was a symphony of madness. "Come forth—Flames of the Abyss!"
The collision was cataclysmic.
Nealon's void-born energy clashed with the Chaos God's hellfire, the shockwave ripping through the battlefield like a god's wrath. The earth split, the sky screamed, and for a single, blinding moment, the world was reduced to pure destruction.
"Yoton—NOW!" Nealon roared.
Yoton struck from above, his blade a silver flash against the darkness. The Chaos God met him mid-air, and the two became a whirlwind of violence—blows exchanged with enough force to shatter mountains, spells detonating like supernovas. The battlefield was reduced to ruin, the very fabric of existence trembling under their duel.
And yet… the Chaos God only laughed.
Nealon's Gambit: The Crimson Chains Awaken.
The battlefield trembled under the weight of clashing energies, the very fabric of the Reveiverse straining against the titanic forces unleashed. From a distance, Nealon watched—her eyes sharp, her breath steady—as Yoton and their foe traded blows that shattered mountains and split the sky.
He's keeping up with Yoton, she thought, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her blade. Not just in strength… but in speed too. It's like he's evolving the more they fight. A cold realization settled in her gut. If this continues…
Yoton's voice cut through the chaos, gritted with urgency. "Let's finish him now—before he grows even stronger!"
Nealon nodded, but Yoton's next words gave her pause. "Agreed. But I can't use my full strength here… not unless we want the entire Reveiverse reduced to ash."
The admission hung between them, heavy with implication. Their enemy was no ordinary threat. He was a force of annihilation, and the rules of this battle were twisted against them.
"Nealon," Yoton called, his voice a command wrapped in desperation. "Begin the chant. I'll buy you time."
Without hesitation, Nealon closed her eyes, her voice rising above the din of war. The words spilled forth, ancient and terrible, each syllable dripping with power:
"I am the flesh of my flesh. I am the being whose spiritual strength cannot be measured. I am Elixa."
As the final word left her lips, the air itself screamed. A crimson light erupted from her body, spiraling into chains of pure energy—chains that had not been seen in eons.
The Chaos God's roar of disbelief shook the heavens. "WHAT?! How?! Amiss lied to me! That wretched bitch swore she could no longer wield it!"
But his fury came too late. Nealon's spell struck true, the Crimson Chains lashing around him before detonating in a cataclysm of raw power. The explosion tore through dimensions, obliterating half the Reveiverse in an instant—a wave of destruction so vast it threatened to consume everything.
Aftermath: A Fractured Victory
When the dust settled, Zerich stood amidst the ruins, his breath ragged, his body battered. Yet, against all odds, he laughed—a dry, disbelieving sound.
"Those two… they really know how to make an exit," he muttered, shaking his head. "I thought we were all dead. But they… they somehow contained the spell's destruction. Reduced it to half."
Carel's voice was a whisper of hope amidst the devastation. "Did they… win?"
But the answer came not in triumph, but in a gasp of pain. Yoton staggered, his chest heaving, his armor slick with blood. "What the hell…?"
Nealon rushed to his side, her hands trembling as she reached for him. "Yoton! Are you okay?!"
Yoton coughed, his voice a ragged growl. "He's… still alive. The bastard used the blast as cover—cut me from behind."
Nealon's heart clenched. The wound was deep, the blood too much. "Go back to the Warhead, Yoton. Let me finish this myself."
Yoton's glare was fierce, his teeth stained red. "Fool. Haven't you noticed? Our powers—they've been sealed since the moment we stepped onto this battlefield."
Nealon's eyes widened. "I… I only realized it when I cast the last enchantment."
A grim smile touched Yoton's lips. "Then it seems someone prepared very well for us."
Before they could react, Zerich's voice cut through the tension, urgent and sharp. "My lords—we need to leave. Now. Look!"
They turned. The Chaos God, though wounded, was regenerating—his form twisting, his power swelling. Not just recovering. Multiplying. A hundredfold.
Flashback: Planet Saga's Desperation
Earlier, on the outskirts of Planet Saga…
Azarel's voice rang out over the panicked crowds, her sword gleaming under the eerie light of the closing Wave Barrier. "Hurry! Everyone—get inside before it seals!"
An injured commander limped forward, his face pale with exhaustion. "My lady… we can't all make it. The chaos creatures—they'll reach us before—"
Azarel didn't let him finish. "Go, Commander. The elites and I will hold them off. Move!"
A soldier's cry echoed from the watchtower. "Chaos creatures approaching! Their numbers—a hundred thousand strong!"
Azarel didn't flinch. "All Special Ranks—with me! We hold the line until every last citizen is safe!"
The response was immediate, a chorus of determination. "Yes, ma'am!"
"Rank One—form the wall! Rank Two—you're with me!" Azarel raised her blade, the air crackling with gathering energy.
And so they fought.
But then—impossibly—the creatures retreated.
The Special Rank Commander staggered back, disbelief etched into his face. "What in hell…?"
Azarel's breath caught. "They're… pulling back?"
A soldier pointed frantically. "Look! They're heading toward our last location!"
Azarel's blood ran cold. "No… I have to go back—"
The Rank Commander grabbed her arm. "My lady, we can't let you—"
"Take her inside!" the Special Rank Commander barked. "Now! Seal the barrier!"
Azarel struggled, her voice raw. "No—there are still people out there!"
But the king's order was final. "Close it!"
The barrier sealed just as a blinding light erupted on the horizon—a light that was not salvation, but annihilation.
"That's no ordinary light," the Rank Commander whispered. "That's a high-tier enchantment."
The Special Rank Commander's voice turned frantic. "BRACE! SHUT THE BARRIER LAYERS OR WE'RE DEAD!"
Azarel's scream was lost in the thunder. "NO—!"
The first barrier layer shattered. Then the second cracked.
King Saga's roar was one of pure defiance. "HOLD THE LINE! EVERYONE—POUR YOUR POWER INTO THE BARRIER!"
And so they did.
And Together With Their Determination, They Managed to Survive The Massive Blast.
NEXT CHAPTER✓
ACT 5: HOPE AND TEARS.