The Primordial Record

Chapter 1621: The Stars Spoke Of Your Arrival

“I will be holding them back for twelve moments. In that time, you should have concluded your operations here, if not, then your Fate is left to you.”

In his heart, Rowan chuckled with anger. At this point, there were three Primordials who had openly made claims to his body, Primordial Memory, Soul, and now Demon. He was sure that the rest also had great interest in his powers,

’But I am not dead yet, and when all this is over, we will know who is standing above it all.’

A hundred years was nothing, a blink of an eye. If Primordial Demon was sincere, the least amount of time he should have given Rowan, a seventh-dimensional immortal, should have been at least a billion years. Even adding his talents to the equation, a million years should have been the right amount of time.

However, Rowan knew that Primordial Demon did not play fair, and expecting anything less from the great demon was foolish.

The Demon knew that Rowan needed the time to escape the hands of his enemies, and he took advantage of it. Rowan would have done the same; perhaps his actions would have been even worse.

He watched Primordial Demon leave. The direction he headed was the location of the battle between three Primordials. Rowan had twelve moments, but he believed he only needed one.

If the New Light were able to establish herself in Reality, then she would be truly immortal, embodying a concept like a Primordial, and become indestructible unless specific grave measures were taken.

Besides, with the acknowledgement of Reality, immortality would not be the only benefit the New Light would acquire; what was more important would be power—the power to change Reality, create something from nothing, and exist as a foundation of Reality, sharing the power of Old Light and, in time, supplanting him.

This was Rowan’s grand experiment. Everything did not go according to his plan. Primordial Light was awakened, and the Thrones of the Primordials turned out to be far more mobile than he previously anticipated.

But if this could work, it would mean he had a way to kill Primordials inside Reality without breaking Reality.

From the brief moment when the representation of Light perished, the entirety of Reality had also perished alongside it. What use was there in fighting the Primordials when the result of killing any one of them would lead to destroying Reality?

Rowan obviously had to find a solution to this predicament, and the birth of the New Light was giving him hope.

Nudging his serpents with his mind to stop feeding him vitality, it was now useless, but they refused to stop, and he sighed with exasperation before forcefully breaking the lines of vitality connected to his body. Turning towards the New Light, Rowan was about to speak when he sensed something inside of him shake.

It took a moment before he realized what it was, and he saw that it was the energy of death that surrounded his body. All these while this energy was linked to the billions of death suns that were swallowing his vitality, including those being given to him by the serpent and also the New Light, but now this feeding frenzy had begun to slow down.

The power of death was beginning to fade.

Something was here… Someone was here… Divus was the first to notice the new presence, and through her eyes, Rowan saw a painted man walking through the darkness.

The space surrounding Rowan grew heavy, thick with the scent of damp soil and long-forgotten graves. Shadows like ink coiled like serpents, slithering from the depths of forgotten crypts, drawn to this figure as if he were a black hole that attracted the energy of death.

Rowan was struck with a feeling of disillusionment. This figure was not an Old One; it was far too powerful to be an Old One, as he had never seen any Old One who could measure a fraction of the presence of this being, and he was not a Throne of a Primordial either; he had come across multiple Thrones. He knew specific characteristics they all shared, and this figure lacked all of those.

Instead, what he reminded him of was a Primordial entity similar to the Primordial Beasts, but not because of the power they controlled, but how they seemed to merge with Reality, as if they were always a part of it.

The heavy Aura of death was so potent that it could affect the death energy around Rowan. Slowly, the aura lifted, and the figure was revealed.

It was a naked man covered in writhing tattoos from his bald head to his toes; even his eyes were filled with tattoos. Rowan’s senses were full, but through the perception of his serpents, he could not decipher the whole intent behind these tattoos because every strand of perception that touched this living ink decayed.

This sensation was extremely weird for Rowan, but he stopped trying after a while. Instead, he allowed the senses of his serpents to slowly decipher the aura of the tattoos. With his perfect memory, Rowan would be able to break apart the mysteries behind this man.

If he was aware of Rowan’s senses digging into his tattoos, he gave no indication; instead, his eyes were only for Eva. As Rowan watched him come closer, he noticed that tears as black as night were slowly falling from this stranger’s eyes.

“If I did not see it with my two eyes, I would not have believed it was possible. My return is no longer a waste. Fate has brought me to the right moment.”

The stranger’s voice was rough, like nails digging into Rowan’s ears, but that was not as alarming as his language—Enochian.

Every word he spoke carried intense power, but this power was not broadcasting into Reality in a manner that would break it; instead, it was merging with Reality in a fascinating process that would have kept Rowan spellbound for ages.

“You, the stars, spoke to me that you would bring change. Eosah came to me in my dreams, and her cries no longer held pain but joy. Are you the maker of my joy? Are you the one I was to herald?”

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