The Primordial Record

Chapter 1697: Erased



Chapter 1697: Erased

When Rowan opened his eyes, he saw the ending of a strange rune slipping into his chest. The rune had appeared almost alive, and a chill had spread across his bones, making them feel incredibly cold, and his flesh was hot.

Trying to find this rune inside him was a bit hard since the rune seemed determined to escape from his grasp.

Rowan smiled, it had been a while since he had something elude him for as long as this rune was doing. There was a certain playfulness to it that reminded him of the Lost Flames.

A playfulness that his the terrible and dangerous power they controlled.

His smile faded as the recollection of past memories took away his happiness. His memories were one of his most powerful assets, but it was in times like these that he almost regretted having them.

The Lost Flames was among the few in his memories that gave him nothing but joy. He was a good kid, and to weaken a Primordial, Rowan had sacrificed his power into the New Light.

“You are a cold bastard…” Rowan could hear the voice of Eva in his memories.

“Yes, I am,” Rowan muttered to himself as his senses exploded in power and he seized the rune in an instant. He no longer saw any pleasure in the chase; there was no time for that anymore. The only thing he should concern himself with was the battle.

The power of the rune entered his mind, and Rowan shuddered before he closed his eyes to understand it, the Primordial Record by his side, recording it.

For the first time, Rowan was not viewing the details of his power from the page; now the Singularity was reading it from him.

Realm-Butcher’s Onslaught:

A single perfect strike that fuses all the skills, Aspect Skills, and Bloodline Skills of an Eclipsed Creator into one dimension-ending cut.

This is not an attack; it is the death of possibility itself.

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The description of this skill was simple. Rowan had no time for the verbose rhetoric of the Primordials’ Record, but he knew that this skill was the strongest he had ever wielded in his life.

Opening his eyes, he grabbed the air and made a blade out of time; this was the only law he could easily wield in this place. With time as a resource, he spent a thousand years to make a blade, and another ten thousand years to simulate all chaotic laws in existence.

He wanted fuel to test the power of this skill, but not too much, or he would shatter this space. But Rowan considered the power that he might unleash, and he chose to reduce the power of the Chaotic laws to two thousand years, and after further consideration, he reduced it to a single day.

If not for his senses, he would have barely sensed any laws around this space, but Rowan felt this should be enough to test this power without destroying everything around him.

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Getting up from his feet, Rowan swung the blade in his hand, looked at it a bit unsatisfied, and then transformed it into a great sword reminiscent of his Destroyer.

Rowan consciousness, which had been holding the runes of the Realm Butcher’s Onslaught, triggered it, and a wash of data poured into his mind. Even as he allowed his senses to fill up the runes, he allowed his body to follow the motions dictated by them.

The last time he had wielded skills like this, he had been a mere mortal who hardly knew the difference between Aether and Essence, but the power of this skill was so great, that Rowan allowed it to lead him, he doubted he needed to do this more than once to learn it, and then a few more times to master.

Rowan’s body moved unconsciously into the proper motions, his blade was brought up, and time around him simply ceased to exist, and then space as a dome of annihilation surrounded him.

Across his entire body, he began to feel stings, as if he were a mortal being being bitten by a million bullet ants. Rowan’s eyes widened in shock. If he were wielding this power with his dimensional flesh, then he would have turned to ash if he were not constantly channeling all of his Essence and Ether to regenerate his flesh.

The technique had not even been fully activated!

Before he could deliberate on this unexpected change, his mind was seized by bloodlust so pure that Rowan’s eyes turned red, and a deep growl began to arise from his chest.

His vision splintered into infinite possibilities, showing him all the angles of severance where his blade would pass, and he felt his body phasing into Reality so it could find the angle to deliver the perfect cut.

A whooshing sound that only he could hear cut across his consciousness as his blade went aflame, but the fires that burned across the blade were not hot, but the cold flame of entropy.

Power continued to build, drawing from the infinite well of rage inside of him, but Rowan quickly cut out this connection and unleashed what he had gathered.

His hand swept forward in a single perfect slicing motion, and his blade collapsed into nothingness.

Rowan had reduced the chaotic laws in this space to accommodate for a single day. To put that in perspective, if an Old One had unleashed all of its powers inside this space, due to the diminished amount of laws inside here, the energy it would release would not be able to boil a cup of water.

It did not matter how much energy they pushed into the space when there was barely anything here to work with.

However, it did not matter how few laws were present in this space; the moment Rowan swung the blade, this entire space flickered, and before long, smooth cracks covered the whole area.

Rowan fell to his knees as his dimensional soul howled in pain; a small portion of his soul was simply gone, and there was no way for him to regain it.

Not focusing on the pain of losing a part of his soul, he analyzed what this move had done, and he observed that it had cut everything.

Every single bit of matter inside this Reality had been cut, and it would never heal.

The smile on Rowan’s face was terrifying. This was a skill that was worthy of his rage. Every time he made his move, he would pay a permanent price, but his enemies would never rise again. They would be erased from casuality—no resurrection, no afterlife, no memory.

It would be like they never existed.


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