The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1680

Chapter 1680: The Hand That Creates

Rowan cocked his head to the side in puzzlement, “I know of the World Stele and traces of a Map used by Primordial Time; if there is the presence of any other Singularity, I am yet unaware of them.”

“If you have not yet recognized the remnants of seed, then your fate does not align with it. Perhaps in time that might change.”

“A Singularity that I have not yet recognized,” Rowan mused internally, and his hand stroked his jaw in thought. The eyes of Eosah flashed as she muterred,

“Incredible, you are already adapting to this place. It is a shame that you tore the boundary of my flesh open and released my dead essence, hastening the end of Reality, if you had kept my boon away from the masses. In less than two major eras, you will be unmatched in all existence.”

Rowan shrugged, “My personal survival means nothing to me if it hinges upon leaving no room for the growth of others. Besides, I had no idea of this place, and my plans were made before I knew the ultimate secret buried here.”

Eosah smiled, and her face was the representation of everything that was good in creation. Rowan was aware that what he was seeing of this being was the barest fragment of her glory, and this was most likely because she was protecting his mind from collapsing.

Observing her authentic self while being placed under the existential pressure of this space would have collapsed his consciousness and killed him, and the fact that Eosah had known this and held back her radiance was the most significant reason Rowan had trusted her words from the start.

The power of this place was so terrible that if he had died here, his Origin Land would not have survived. His death would have been so total that nothing would remain to even reach the Domain of Death.

In the position he found himself, if Eosah had bad intentions against him, there was no more perfect moment than this to crush him.

Inside his heart, Rowan laughed. This was the danger faced by all mortal beings. Even when he battled the Thrones of the Primordials, his life had never truly been in danger; his Origin Land made it possible for him to endure the strikes of the Primordial wrath, and he could calmly plan his moves and adapt to every change without fear.

Here, he no longer had that option; he could not plan for what he could not understand or anticipate, and he could not plan for what could instantly kill him. Here he was truly a mortal who stood before the immensity of the heavens, and his cries of defiance were hardly a footnote to eternity.

His will became increasingly tempered, and Rowan’s body began to breathe. Unknowingly, he had been frozen in place so thoroughly that even the action of breathing, which was not something he needed to do, but had become part of his character, had ceased.

But getting in touch with his mortal roots and reaffirming his stance as a mortal who would struggle despite adversity pushed his willpower to a higher level, and he began to breathe once more.

In the memories he had of the battle, there had been a sixth-dimensional mage who had been in the same position as Rowan. He was seeing the Origin Ouroboros, and his heart, even though bogged down by fear and awe, knowing he could not survive, had still stood and watched the end coming for him.

His soul and memory had perished, but Rowan, who had nearly mastered the Origin of Space and whose domain of Time was almost matchless in Reality, merged the memories of Serathis and Prime to fish out the Reflection of the soul of Kacius Black, manifesting it upon his palm.

Rowan called what he created a Reflection, but that was due to his high levels of being, but for any immortal, what Rowan had done was no different from true resurrection.

The memories of Serathis and Prime, when combined by him, were essentially flawless, and he had reached across time and space to retrieve Kacius Black from death. A gentle wash from his spirit cleansed the mage of the perils of viewing the higher dimension, and as a benefit, the man’s body was elevated to the peak of the realm of mages, even faintly exceeding Andar at the sixth-dimensional level.

Kacius knew he was dead, eradicated with such finality that not even his memories remained, and now he was alive, most likely resurrected, as if everything that had happened was a dream, and whether it was by accident or design, his body and soul had been transformed to such a drastic degree that if not for recognizing the foundations of his body, he would have believed his soul had entered a different body. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

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