The Primordial Record

Chapter 390 Reaching The Hand

This new state of being was fascinating, it was similar to the Icy Soul talent that his main body unlocked, but there were differences. For one this did not affect his emotions, just the way he interacted with his body.

The pain was there, unceasing and growing ever higher, but he could now move, no matter how much his body protested, his mind was in millions of pieces and they could no longer be shut down, not by pain or madness.

In fact, it was difficult for him to even process the feeling of pain because it was so scattered all over his consciousness, that each part of him could not understand the sensation it was feeling unless he chose to merge all the million pieces of his mind and interpret the pain ravaging it. ．

Without his intervention, Andar could only control all the joints in his body, and because he was not used to doing something like that, his movements were stiff and robotic.

However, what was important to him was that he could move, he could figure out how to control this power at a later time.

This event had taught Rowan a lesson; it was better he did not interfere much with the ‘Andar Program.’ There might be many surprises and mysteries that could be unearthed.

This was the power system of a Supreme World, and they must have countless years of history and innovation that the bloodline system of the gods of Trion would not have.

So he decided to watch as everything went by, leaving the director’s seat to Andar, while he was deep in thought.

However much this new power was helping Andar, it was also a double-edged sword that he should not use for long because as Rowan came to find out, it was feeding on his life force to maintain its potency.

Andar’s constitution was durable enough for him to use for a few minutes, any more than that, and it would start to kill him, and if Rowan’s conjecture was right, he would slowly turn to stone.

This ability was born from the Spirit Matrix and it should not be very rare, yet If a normal mortal had unlocked this ability, he would be nothing but dust in less than a second.

Andar having solidified the control of his body, began attacking the final barrier to reach the hand of the Chained god. If it was Rowan, he would have used the Cloud Whale, but Andar’s character was different.

The child wanted… needed to make a difference. He needed to prove himself.

‘This was all well and good as a source of motivation, but it was a flaw in his character,’ Rowan thought. Tools were made to be used.

Soon Rowan disregarded this thought process and began focusing on the fragments of the soul covering his body.

Mira had thought it was red gas that contained nothing but pain, but Rowan understood that these were tiny fragments of a god’s soul.

It was in pain.

The pain was of a sort, he could not understand.

This pain was so old it was now muddled. The god had forgotten the reason for its pain, and pain had become all it ever was, there could be no communication with such a being, for its mind was gone.

Rowan did not attempt to collect the soul, it would be too suspicious, the only thing he tried to do was to go deeper into the pain and madness, surely if he went deep enough, he might find something.

Rowan heard a crack, and a fragment of memory entered his mind, but it was meaningless. The memory only showed him a night sky.

As more cracks resounded, that same memory fragment began to play out, with little variation.

A mighty crash sounded and although Rowan knew Andar had succeeded in breaking through the barrier, his mind was focused on the full memory that he had just read from the soul.

It was still that of a night sky, but now he could see it much more clearly. He saw five bright stars, and although they were extremely far away, something was pouring from the stars like a flood.

He forced himself to get closer as he wanted to see what was pouring out from the stars, but he was denied.

The memory ended and he was left puzzled.

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When Andar shattered the last barrier between him and the hand, the red fog around him ceased and revealed his body.

He was a mess.

The fog acted like an acid, and even with the unreasonable durability of Andar, his body resembled bloody dough.

His left eye was melted off, and his nose and lips were gone, leaving a gaping hole in the center of his face, and his lower jaw was being held by pieces of gristles and melting flesh.

His two arms were left with nothing but bleeding stubs, and only a thin sheet of flesh held his internal organs in their place. His beating heart labored to keep what was left of his life force, as blood began to seep from every inch of his body.

His last silver eye looked at his battered form, and Mira thought she saw a hint of sadness before it was all swept away by fierce happiness.

‘He had succeeded,’ Mira thought, ‘He deserves this happiness, yet why do I feel like crying?’

Mira watched in horror as Andar’s broken body seemed to shake and steadied itself. She swallowed in astonishment when he looked up at the sky and roared.

In her short life, it was the most powerful sound she had ever heard.

It was hard for her to understand all the emotions that were inside that sound, but it was etched in her heart.

Andar took a step and he fell through the hole he made.

It was at least a three hundred feet fall before he could reach the hand of the Chained god, yet he landed with a grace his body should not be capable of.

Mira could not tear her eyes away, she was witnessing history unfolding and her heart was beating a thousand beats per minute as her soul quaked.