The Primordial Record

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.

All of these benefits came from Rowan slightly washing the body of the mage with his spirit.

The eyes of Kacius Black snapped open, gleaming like a child’s. His soul and consciousness had been elevated a thousandfold, and although he should have been confused by his surroundings, his spirit had grown vast enough that he was not truly afraid, simply curious.

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.

He knew that not even an Old One was capable of doing this to him, and he must have entered the eyes of a Primordial, or perhaps, was it that mysterious figure who was said to be the master of the Origin Land?

With his mind having a profound degree of clarity, Kacius was made aware of two things almost instantaneously: the first was that he was now alive by the power of a mysterious being exceeding anything that he could comprehend, and the second was that he was not inside Reality.

Kacius had been privelaged to travel across multiple dimensions, he had roamed the lower realms and the higher realms, even one time reaching the boundary of a Primordial Realm, and in all of those places, there had been apparent differences between them all, like night and day, yet, there existed a fundamental constant among all the realms he had visited, and that was the prevalence of Aether, or other forms of energy, and the constant humming of the higher dimensional laws of time and space pressing against his body and soul.

At that time, he was not even aware of the higher-dimensional laws and how they affected his body. Only now, with his enhanced body and soul, could he finally understand what had been happening all around him from the moment of his birth. He was like a man who had been blind all his life and was now seeing for the first time.

It was this sight that made him aware that he was not inside Reality as he knew it, but in some other place.

Without prompting, Kacius Black fell on his knees and prostrated himself on the ground, his forehead pressing against the earth, which was harder than any substance he had come across.

He remained this way for what seemed like a thousand years, and finally, he could not help himself but check his surroundings. His new senses was a wild thing, they craved to be used.

He had finally seen the light after being blind for so long that he needed to see what colors the rainbow was.

“Forgive me for my transgressions,” Kacius whispered as he unleashed his perception, and he gasped in astonishment as the reach of his sight blew away anything he could ever imagine.

Previously, he could barely see more than a few million miles around him, and only when he strained his perception in a single direction could he hit a billion miles. Now, causally unfurling his spirit had spread his perception to a dozen billion miles!

Checking his levels, Kacius Black saw that he remained a sixth-dimensional immortal.

“Even the foremost genius among the mages, hell, even among all of reality, should not have a reach like this at the sixth-dimensional level.”

Grinning like a child, Kacius Black continued to expand his perception, which seemed to have no limit. It was almost as if something was assisting his perception to grow and spread, and Kacius was too amazed by this feeling to explore what that might mean. Then he seemed to have come across five heavenly mountains.

Above him was darkness, and surrounding him seemed to be a stretch of an endless plain, and now that he had seen these five mountains that broke the monotony, Kacius Black could not wait to explore, when…

‘Wait, something is not right. The arrangements of these heavenly mountains, why does it seem like the arrangement of fingers on a palm.