Against The True Gods-Chapter 138: The Past, Present and Future(III)

Caine alternated between chaos and order, the blinking of his eyes dictating the cadence of his movements.

But his body couldn’t handle the strain. He had decided to limit himself, and he had done it properly. Even his body wasn’t spared—it had been brought back to the state it was in his previous life.

His flesh tore, silver blood cascading down in an endless torrent. His bones fractured and impaled his organs, yet none of it seemed to matter.

The world itself moved to heal him, refusing to let him fall, allowing him to push past all limits.

His spilled blood didn’t disperse—it gathered and swirled around him like a celestial tide, mimicking his movements as if it were the moon to his star.

Veins bloomed across his frame as the strain on his body and aspects continued to mount, but he didn’t stop. He kept pushing.

What Caine was attempting wasn’t simple. In fact, it was suicide.

[A drunken Titan once wandered through the vast emptiness of nothingness. His steps echoed through the void, his breath infecting the nothing, for there was nothing.]

[In a drunken fit of madness, he imagined the earth, and from his Will, the earth was.]

[His drunk steps overlapped and snaked across the soil as a dance of unbalanced bliss began, each of his steps clashing against the humble earth below.]

[He looked to the skies, laughing, and his breath filled them, forming clouds. He spoke to an invisible man, and his spit painted stars across the heavens.]

[The invisible man took shape and became the skies themselves.]

[The Titan’s bottle, loosely hanging from his ancient hands, spilled its drink onto the lifeless soil below, sparking the impetus of life.]

[His laughter echoed, and the invisible man began to dance as well, their intertwining steps harmonizing to create the ominous tapestry of existence.]

[The drunken man and his friend, the invisible man.]

This was a story told to all children across the Three Realms, and it was one of Caine’s favorite tales.

Now, it would serve as the inspiration for his greatest creation.

What he sought to create was a world.

Like the Drunken Titan, Caine’s body would act as the foundation, stirring the ebbs and flows of heaven.

These flows would twist and break down into the primordial qis of heaven and earth, harmonizing with Caine and folding into runes that birthed formations.

Under the roars of beast progenitors, these formations would spark creation, forming the framework of a world.

His spear would etch the laws of this world, while his heart and blood balanced order and chaos.

He would paint the endless intricacies of this realm into existence, sing its life into being, and draw its vividness into reality.

The world around him would serve as a foundation and model, but he would be the funnel.

What greater creation could there be than the world itself?

BANG!

The Nine Arts blended and harmonized, birthing a world—an illusory world, but a world nonetheless, entirely crafted by one mortal man.

Caine’s skin peeled away, disintegrating into ashy starlight. His muscles lost their vitality, their fibers unraveling and drifting into the soft winds.

His organs spilled out, his blood splattering across the platform in a torrential downpour.

And yet, his bones kept moving.

The ominous creaking of his skeleton echoed through the silence, even as fractures appeared and splinters began to fall away. But Caine’s movements did not stop.

The atmospheric qi around him responded, unable to bear the sight. It wove itself into threads, suturing his broken body together even as it fell apart.

His World Aspect shone brightly, pulling him into an even deeper state of focus. He harmonized completely with the world around him.

The surroundings were deathly silent.

Oldest had stopped moving entirely, his hands clasped behind his back as he observed Caine with a placid, unmoved gaze.

Uriel stood far above, his young eyes wide with shock.

Though he appeared like a child, his senses were sharp, and his intelligence far exceeded his appearance. Watching Caine break down so completely, Uriel didn’t know what to think.

Caine hadn’t even reached the stage where he could throw his body away so casually. By all rights, he should have died.

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If not for his World Aspect, which had suddenly become incredibly active, forcefully communing with the world to keep him alive, he would have been gone long ago.

Beyond that, Uriel could feel the waves of pain ripping through Caine’s soul. They were so potent that an ominous aura had formed around him—an echo of death itself, as though the gates of the underworld were slowly opening to claim him.

To say he was dancing with death was an understatement.

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Yet, for some reason, as Caine faced death so openly—with his Will sealed and his abilities shut down—his Primal Will exuded exhilaration.

It was as though the essence of his existence had been set ablaze, shining so brightly that none could bear to look directly at him.

As though he had been dormant all his life until this moment.

With the final strike of his fist, so slow it seemed held back by an unseen force, a mad grin spread across his face.

His eyes snapped wide open.

[—Art: Flickering World]

WHOOOOOOOOSH!

The moment the spell was finalized, the seal Caine had placed on himself shattered. His body rippled, then began to heal at an extraordinary rate.

But Caine paid no attention to that.

There, resting upon his palm, a small sphere began to take shape. It flickered in and out of existence, its form unstable yet mesmerizing.

It was as heavy as infinity itself, yet as light as a feather. As colorful as the tapestry of life, yet as transparent as the void. It was as full of potential as a child, yet as weary as an elder.

It was as complex as a world, yet as simple as… a dream.

Caine stared at the sphere, his heart thundering with emotion.

Then, a voice rang out.

"Disappointing."

Oldest’s voice echoed across the platform, shattering the moment.

Caine’s gaze reluctantly left the sphere, turning toward him—and immediately, his eyes widened.

In Oldest’s hands hovered a glass cube.

With a single point of his finger, a perfect replica of Caine’s sphere materialized within the cube.

A shiver ran down Caine’s spine. The sphere inside the cube wasn’t just a copy—it was perfect.

And Oldest didn’t stop there.

The cube trembled as runes erupted across its surface. The flickering sphere stabilized, gaining depth, richness, life, and laws. It became something far beyond what Caine had created.

It became a true and complete world.

WHOOOSH!

All of it, contained within a single glass cube.

Oldest’s gaze remained unimpressed as always. A grin spread across his face as a blade appeared in his hand.

Without hesitation, he slit his own throat, his eyes never leaving Caine.

"I am unrivaled."

These last words echoed as Oldest collapsed to the ground, dead.