The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Chapter 2125: Severely wounded Neo-Angel

Bradly did not understand how Meylin had pierced his defenses — but understanding no longer mattered. What mattered was survival. He could not allow those cursed blades to reach the vulnerable joint at the base of his skull.

He released the Valkyrie’s head and, without hesitation, struck his own chest with a precise blow. The technique was brutal and refined — the kinetic force reverberated through his divine body, bypassing flesh and bone to hit Meylin, who clung to his back.

The shockwave hurled her away.

Bradly turned instantly toward the Valkyrie, bashing with his feet. But she had already used the opening to retreat, saving her head from being crushed into paste. Rage surged through the Neo-Angel’s chest, his turquoise aura trembling with murderous heat.

His prey had escaped again.

Snarling, he pivoted sharply and flashed forward, his speed cracking the air. His fist blazed with turquoise energy, veins of celestial light crawling along his arm until the limb nearly doubled in size. The entire ring seemed to darken under its glow. His punch was no longer just an attack — it was a sentence of death, a miniature supernova condensed into motion.

But Meylin had been waiting for this.

Her weapons, Hell and Abyss, had vanished from her hands, dissolving into formless energy. As the Neo-Angel’s colossal fist descended toward her, she did not dodge. Instead, her left hand rose in calm precision — two fingers extended — and touched his knuckles.

For an instant, the world froze.

Then, all the energy in Bradly’s strike vanished.

The force that could have obliterated a world was suddenly gone — drawn into nothingness.

A sharp detonation echoed a heartbeat later.

"BOOM!"

Meylin’s arm exploded.

Her left forearm disintegrated in a burst of crimson and gold light, bone and ash scattering through the air. The backlash threw her backward several steps, her face twisting in pain.

Bradly froze in disbelief. Even he had not expected the sheer violence of the exchange. Then, as realization dawned, a cruel smile spread across his face. Seeing her arm destroyed filled him with savage satisfaction.

But his triumph lasted only a moment.

Because Meylin was still standing.

Her eyes glowed faintly, cold and merciless — not with pain, but with disdain.

"That’s all you’ve got?" she said quietly.

The words struck him harder than any blade.

Rage roared up inside him, a volcano of divine hatred. "You insignificant—!"

He swung again, his left fist blurring forward—

—but hit nothing.

Meylin’s figure vanished.

The Neo-Angel’s eyes widened as he felt her presence behind him again, the faint pressure of her aura clinging to his back like a shadow. He realized what had happened — she had used his moment of fury, the surge of negative emotion, to phase through space itself, teleporting into his blind spot.

And worse, her remaining hand was glowing.

Her left arm was gone, but the energy she had absorbed from his attack hadn’t vanished. It had traveled through her core, purified within the crucible of her stomach, and now coursed into her right arm — dense, focused, unstoppable.

Meylin raised her remaining hand, two fingers poised like the tip of a spear. Her voice was low, steady, final.

"Bye."

Her fingers pressed against the exact spot she had struck before — where her blades had carved hundreds of shallow wounds into the Neo-Angel’s neck.

The world detonated.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!"

A blinding explosion engulfed them both, a sphere of raw, unfiltered power expanding outward like the birth of a star. The shockwave tore through the crystal plains, shredding the air and shaking the sky.

Meylin’s body was thrown like a ragdoll through the inferno, her armor cracking, blood spraying from her lips. She crashed beside the Valkyrie, rolling across the shattered ground until she came to rest in a heap of smoke and flame.

The Valkyrie staggered to her knees, eyes dazed, vision swimming red from the fractures in her skull. She turned toward Meylin, who was barely conscious, her chest rising in shallow breaths.

Both women turned their gaze to the glowing crater ahead, where the explosion still raged.

For a moment, they dared to hope.

When the light finally faded, their hearts sank.

Bradly was still standing.

His body was covered in burns and bleeding wounds, but he remained upright — barely. His back was a ruin, the flesh and muscle around his neck charred to blackened bone, the vertebrae of his spine gleaming through the smoke. His divine blood dripped like molten gold, hissing as it hit the ground.

He swayed. His knees buckled once — then locked.

With a guttural snarl, he drove his foot into the ground, forcing his trembling body upright. His teeth clenched until blood ran from his gums. He bit through his tongue, using the pain to anchor his consciousness.

Every nerve screamed. Every motion sent agony through his spine. His body was barely obeying him.

And yet, he stood.

He turned, slowly, and glared at the two women.

"You..." His voice cracked with fury and disbelief. "...ants!"

His energy erupted, a pillar of turquoise fire that split the sky. The very air distorted around him, vibrating with the frequency of annihilation.

The Neo-Angel charged.

His movements were erratic, half fueled by instinct, half by madness. The sheer force of his aura sent shards of obsidian spiraling into the air.

Meylin clenched her teeth, trying to move, but her body refused. The Valkyrie struggled beside her, blood leaking from her mouth, her crimson horn dim and cracked. Both were spent — every reserve of soul force burned away.

They had done the impossible. They had severely wounded an Alpha-Omega Overgod Neo-Angel, an entity at the peak of the food chain. But now their strength was gone.

Bradly’s eyes blazed with unholy light as he neared, consumed by wrath. The only thing that could satisfy the inferno in his chest was crushing these two women into dust.

And then—

A blur of light shot from the second phase of the Fourth Ring, faster than thought.

The figure appeared between the Neo-Angel and the women, moving with impossible grace.

Bradley’s fist, a comet of divine destruction, hurtled toward the newcomer — and was deflected as if it were a mere gust of wind.

The figure didn’t even flinch.

A single hand intercepted the blow, diverting its path effortlessly to the side. Then, in the same motion, the stranger’s fist thrust forward and struck the Neo-Angel square in the chest.

The impact seemed small — almost insignificant. It lacked the violent noise of divine combat. But in the next instant, Bradley froze.

His golden aura flickered violently. Something inside him had ruptured — not flesh, not bone, but energy itself.

Two frequencies within his body collided, resonating out of harmony, and the Neo-Angel coughed a mouthful of shimmering blood before being flung backward across the battlefield.