The Primordial Record

Chapter 1610: Become The Spark

Primordial Light gasped as her hands grew too weak to hold onto Rowan. She dropped to her knees, Apollyon feeding gleefully on her light. With a sudden burst of power and light, a massive hole was blown out of her back. “How?!”

Rowan grunted and pulled out his blade and drove it into the neck of Primordial Light, and because his blade was quite broad, it cleanly sliced off her head.

The voice of Primordial Light resounded in Rowan’s head, filled with a myriad of emotions, including shock, anger, despair, and loss. She laid a curse on Reality.

“I am the first, and I will be the last. When my fire fades, all will follow.”

His blade dropped wordlessly from his hand, and he took the head of Primordial Light, no, Eva, his Lady of Shadows, and he held her to his chest, his head bowed.

Rowan did not know when he dropped to his knees beside the headless body of Eva, he was only dimly aware that there was a terrible silence all over heaven.

A figure slammed in front of Rowan, and a disbelieving cry rang out,

“What did you do? Do you have any idea what you have just unleashed upon creation?!”

Rowan slowly raised his head to see Primordial Memory’s panicked face. Then he looked down at the head he was holding, seeing an orange and white rune fade away. Rowan shuddered as he realized how far Eva had gone to ensure his victory.

’And they say I am the crazy one.’

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At first, Reality did not seem to notice.

The stones, trees, worlds, stars, mortals, gods, titans, demons, Old Ones—all had grown accustomed to the eternal presence of Primordial Light.

It had been the first breath of existence, the unwavering heart of creation. But now, its pulse faltered.

The suns of a billion trillion realms burned cooler. Shadows grew teeth. A slow, creeping silence spread between the threads of Aether and Primordial Essence that was slowly filling up Reality.

The wise—the eldest dragons, the Supreme gods, the forgotten titans—whispered in dread,

“The light is dying.”

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Rowan ignored Primordial Memory. The endless avatars he had in the form of the Adjudicator were balanced against the fact that he controlled the weakest Throne. Of course, only Rowan would refer to a Throne of a Promordial as weak.

Ironically, his Destroyer, Apollyon, was on the verge of destruction. It had fed on the blood of multiple Primordials, and without Rowan’s strength to regulate the power pouring inside of it, this weapon had to endure the entire backlash of killing beings that were never meant to die.

What made its injuries worse was the arrangement Eva made in her body before she died. Rowan had not just killed a Throne of Light; if he had, then this battle would have been meaningless.

No, Eva was something more. She was more special than any Throne could ever be because she was a direct manifestation of Light; she was Light’s shadow.

Killing her had crippled Light.

He sent a sliver of his intent into the blade, and it shivered before it released a thin line of destruction that tore through space, opening a vortex that led into the void.

Rowan stood up and grabbed the blade with his left hand while cradling Eva’s head in his right. Then, slowly, he walked into the shrinking tear in space.

“So, you will not stand behind and watch the glorious works of your hand?”

The voice of Primordial Memory followed Rowan, but he did not look back. Rowan sought a place where he could die in peace.

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Rowan arrived in a desolate space inside the Great Darkness, surrounded by billions of dimensions that glinted like stars. He stood in the void, his long red hair floating behind him like a cloud, and his eyes slowly closed.

But they snapped open when he felt it. The Rending. The consequences of killing the manifestation of Primordial Light.

A fissure split the heavens, not with light, but with absence—a yawning void where the Primordial’s radiance had once been. From its spilled anti-light, a devouring gloom that drank the warmth from the air.

Rowan could feel the entirety of Reality being embraced by shadows, and he knew that in heaven, Angels were beginning to fall, the source of their radiance cut off. However, they were not the only ones facing this tide of annihilation.

The gods screamed as their divinity began to fade. Mortals collapsed, their souls suddenly unmoored, for the light had been the anchor of all life.

Similar to what Rowan had experienced with Gilded Maw, Reality began to unravel.

The lights from the countless dimensions surrounding him began to fade. Kings saw their crowns turn to ash, babes in the womb dreamed of a sunless sky, and the souls of the dead drifting in the afterlife felt the ground beneath them rot away.

The wails of the countless dying rose up in such volumes that it shook all of Reality as a fundamental portion of its foundations had been severed.

If Rowan had claimed the power of Fate from Reality, then the weight of Karma that would land on him for the end of all life would have been enough to kill him a million times over, and it would not matter if he were still in perfect shape.

Despite all of this, his Fate Origin shook under the onslaught of so many deaths and dying, and Rowan’s head and shoulders were pressed down under this burden.

’It is too much, my Lady, I don’t know how much more I can hold on.’

“Rowan, you are limitless. Show them all what you are. Become the spark that burns the forest.’

Rowan shuddered as he pushed against the weight of Karma, his memory tracing back to the beginning of this campaign when he asked Eva,

“How do you kill a Primordial. Truly kill them.”

She had replied, “It is impossible. The weight of their existence is so great, you would need to be an Old One to truly understand how powerful they are and the concepts that they control.”

Rowan looked down dejected, that is until Eva whispered, “But I believe there might be a way. It is madness, but if there is anyone who could be capable of making it possible, it would be you.”

Rowan looked up, “Why is this plan madness? Have I not been committing acts of madness from the day of my birth?”

Eva smiled, “Not like this, Rowan, you have never done anything like this. If you succeed, you will have to carry the weight of all existence on your back. That is a Fate that even Primordials are not equipped to hold.”

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