The Primordial Record

Chapter 1854: Ultimate Techniques

Since Rowan and Eos were experiencing the same events in two different positions, he was able to glean more information from what happened next than he would have normally.

Memory, Life, and Light were awake and aware of everything that had happened inside Reality, and these three were the ones who were consuming Rowan.

The rest, still led by instincts, were a beat too slow, but they were coming, and when they joined the feast, Rowan would instantly perish.

Rowan could not see what happened next, only brief glimpses of white teeth larger than Realities passing through the bodies of the Primordials… and then the unearthly screaming. They were like starving wails interwoven with the crack of splintering reality, so loud it could no longer be categorized by sound.

If the Primordials had been the alpha predators over all of existence from the beginning of time, and they had no natural enemies, then it meant that they never truly faced any danger or true pain from an enemy that wished to hurt and kill them.

It was true that the Primordials suffered pain that could not be imagined by any creature in existence, but the wonderful thing about immortals of their level was that their senses were so varied and powerful that they were still able to experience new layers of pain beyond what they were currently facing.

A mortal being may process pain via a single sense or even multiple senses; their minds were not meant for pain of this level and would shut down. A Primordial mind, on the other hand, would not; they could not grow numb or ever see a ceiling to the pain they were experiencing.

Rowan would have wished to see more, but the cries emerging from the Primordial, accompanied by his weakened body, tore him apart, and what remained of his body was crushed under the teeth of the boy, granting him the silence of death.

Or at least, that was what he had initially believed would happen to him, but the power he was playing with had exceeded the limits of his knowledge and control, and Rowan found himself inside a cave.

His connection with Eos still remained, but it was incredibly faint, almost nonexistent, and the connection Rowan had been able to build with his main body and his Incarnations had grown to great heights. However, Rowan was not too concerned about this; his primary focus was on his survival. Why was he not dead? Where was he?

Rowan tried to sweep his perception through his body and discovered that he could not. There was nothing blocking his perception; he had just been reduced to the body of a mortal. Still, he could feel his strength returning, and it would not be long before he could access some of his supernatural abilities.

No answers could be found inside this place, and he could see a light at the end of the cave. He could not sense what was going on with Eos, but his main body should still be safe, so Rowan was free enough to act and look for answers to this mystery.

Walking towards the entrance of the cave, the crunch of his boot on the floor made him look downwards, and now, with the light coming from the entrance of the cave, he was able to see the floor with his mortal eyes, and Rowan’s eyes tightened.

The floor was made of bones, dried and bleached as if they had been left in the elements for years. Looking behind him, Rowan noted that the cave still extended downward, and he had awakened closer to the entrance, so he could not tell how many bones were inside of it, still, no matter the number, Rowan had become desensitized to great amount of deaths over the years he had lived so he could calmly analyze everything he was seeing witha cool eyes.

With dispassionate eyes, he looked over the bones, noting that most of them were not human; however, there were from a rather varied group, and from the size of their skulls and the appendages he could see, they were most likely all intelligent species.

“How curious,” he muttered and reached the edge of the cave, and he stepped out. The sight that he saw made him stagger and reach for the walls of the cave. Rowan closed his eyes for several minutes as he waited for his immortal strength to return so he could open his eyes once again. He was recovering more quickly as he reached the entrance of the cave, as if something in the light was bringing back his immortal nature.

This was necessary because he could instantly recognize that the world outside this cave was a higher-dimensional realm, and it was easy for his mortal eyes to discern that it had no horizon.

If he had not quickly closed his eyes, then this place would have dragged his pitiful mortal spirit and exhausted the fuel of his lifeforce when it forced him to see all it had to offer. It would be like a two-dimensional being forced to see the world in three dimensions. A mortal mind had no place comprehending such a thing.

Feeling the faint stirrings of power beginning to rise inside him, Rowan quickly began directing it away from his flesh and towards his spirit. He had to force himself to keep his eyes closed so his spirit could be strong enough; he suspected that this realm must be at least at the eighth-dimensional level.

Rowan frowned. From the speed of his recovery, it would take too long, most likely days, before his spirit could reach the level that he wanted. Making a series of quick calculations in his head, Rowan determined the best course of action and began directing his rising immortal nature into the area of his spirit that was the center of memory.

A few seconds later, he pulled out the technique that he wanted from the depths of his memory. It was a nameless technique because Rowan had never bothered to name it. When a part of his mind was free, he usually used his powerful consciousness to create techniques using the most obscure or extreme elements.

He challenged himself to make treasure from trash or find a way to use the smallest force to influence a larger area. Every now and then, he created an amazing technique that he recorded and threw into different places in his Origin Land. All of these techniques were useless to him, but if there were any of his children who were lucky enough to stumble across any one of these techniques, it was not assured that they would become unbeatable, but their presence would surely be felt across creation.

Rowan had been able to create 108 of these techniques before he stopped. He could sense that his Origin Land had reached a natural saturation and could no longer hold any of these techniques. If he pushed for more, then he would change the very nature of his Reality to accommodate such extreme techniques.

The technique he reached for was focused on his Spirit, the control center of his consciousness, and there were nineteen layers to the technique he had just pulled from memory. Rowan did not need to study it before he understood it, and he began to wrap his spirit around the shell of this technique.

Inside his head, a bright blue eye appeared, signifying that Rowan had reached the third level of the technique in a few seconds, and the power of his Spirit exploded. From the level of a mortal, his Spirit instantly reached the peak of immortals under the fourth-dimensional level.

Rowan’s body could not hold a spirit of this level in a mortal frame, and it began to break down. He dismissively allocated a portion of his Spirit power to begin reforging his flesh as he picked another ultimate technique that was focused on upgrading the physical body.