The Primordial Record

Chapter 2094 The Graveyard of Heroes

Eos was not forgetting all of these techniques he had created because they were useless; in fact, they were all very useful, but with his present level, techniques were a crutch used by lower immortals and mortals to understand how to manipulate Reality around them.

By seeking to forget every technique he had created, he was making them a part of his instincts.

This process was even more difficult than learning these techniques in the first place, but they needed to be done. If he wished to explore this unknown dimension that had been hidden from his eyes, then he could not enter it without the knowledge of this dimension becoming his instincts.

Time lost all meaning to Eos, and when he was halfway done, he stopped his toils and emerged from the area of still-time to see that five million years had gone by.

In that five million years, four of the New Primordials had perished, but the number of Primordial Candidates now in the Land of Elysium had swelled to ten thousand!

The war was heating up, the Temple and the Ancient Primordials were constantly sending massive streams of monstrosities against the ten thousand Origin Realms, and their incursion had reached the peak a million years ago, when ten thousand Primordial-level monsters suddenly erupted during the battle, and began to push downward to breach the first Origin Realm.

This attack had been so brutal and sudden that if not for the sacrifice of billions of lesser immortals and four Primordials, the Ancient Primordials would have claimed one Origin Realm.

The defenses were strained to the limits, and a lot of heroes had emerged from the side of the Primordials and the lesser immortals, as they used their bodies to shield against Primordial-level attacks being rained down by a host of monsters never before seen in Existence.

He could not even attend their funerals because his head was buried in his research, and the Primordials did not want to bother him.

Eos rectified this oversight quickly as he travelled to the sites of their burial. There were no bodies, with the sheer power being unleashed above the atmosphere of the Origin Realms, even the bodies of Primordials would be ground to dust.

There was only a floating nameplate, made from silver, that was lost in a sea of floating nameplates at the Grave of Heroes, which was the massive dimensional cluster set aside as a memorial for all who were lost in the war and were expected to die.

This place was a grim place, vast and empty, holding only floating nameplates. If all life in the ten thousand Origin Realms were lost, then this dimensional cluster was vast enough to hold the nameplates of all of them.

Every name here was a stab to his heart, and Eos read out all of the names of the fallen, making sure they were placed in his heart. If this war ended in their victory, in time, he would draw out all of their souls from End.

“Your sacrifices shall never be in vain… this I swear.”

Eos eyes turned red as a shred of malevolence was born in his heart, but he suppressed those instincts and focused on learning all he could learn about the current state of affairs.

Prime and Serene Ascension had informed him that there were stirrings in the hearts of their experiment, and if they were not wrong, they expected that the three Primordials they had sent into the future might be returning soon. Although this ‘soon’ could be as short as a few decades, or a couple of million years. What was known, however, was that the wealth of knowledge they would bring back with them would change the course of the entire war and give the Origin Realms a weapon that could hardly be fought against. Serathis had informed him that all the Primordial Candidates were ready and could begin their ascension ceremony, and he gave the go-ahead… the fifth generation of primordials were about to be born, and their numbers would be astonishing. Ten thousand Primordial candidates, and even if not all of them succeeded in the first try, he would still gain thousands of new Primordials. Nyxara had left only one message: “My hunger grows beyond reasoning, Eos… my patience has a limit. More of your precious children would die the more you delay my great work.”

Death had left dozens of messages. As Eos had expected, Death had not taken the offer from End, and it was on the run. Every time it managed to purge the influence of the Ancient Primordials from its body, somehow they were always able to find it, and only by grace and chance had it been able to escape and live for this long.

It would be a fool not to understand that there were other players manipulating the board, and it was just a chess piece in this entire affair. Successive pleas for help were being sent to Eos, but he remained silent; the prey he was hunting had not yet taken the bait.

Death could afford to suffer a bit longer, and it was not as if the Temple of End would not rescue it again if it was truly in danger. Their silence meant they must have understood that the affairs of Death were not as simple as they seemed on the surface.

Eos looked up to see the sky filled with light and colors, which were the scene of billions of lives fighting and dying at every single moment.

He closed his eyes to touch the Primordial Record inside his body, and could feel the vast Origin Essence that was being siphoned from it, all pouring into the jaws of his six Ouroboros Serpents, who in turn were feeding his Origin

Land.

How much power had he accumulated, Eos did not know, but he knew that one day it would be used and all of Existence, both the old and the new, would crumble before this might.

Another round of inspection went by that lasted for another decade as he

ensured that everything was working as well as he intended, and he covered

himself in a shroud of still-time.

It was time to unlock the secrets of the Proto-Dimensions.