The Primordial Record

Chapter 908 A Story Written In A Song

Rowan had not just dodged all the beams of destruction he had gathered and squeezed them in his left hand, his ability to understand and process energy heightened to a ridiculous degree with his Primordial Title and others working in sync. He had created a volatile gray mass that exploded inside the formation before it could be nullified.

The mass of Destruction did not explode, it was more like it snatches, it scattered everywhere, creating large pale blots that resembled portals that sprang throughout the length of the bridge like eyes, and anyone unlucky enough to fall into it was grounded into pieces, destroyed in both body and soul. A single drop of blood entered the Twilight bridge for any one of them that fell, and before long, the pale golden color of the bridge began to turn reddish gold like a beautiful sunset.

“Push him back!” The Demon Prince who was the herald of the army slammed his tower shield on the bridge, releasing a massive surge of kinetic energy fueled by the collective power of the entire army pushing Rowan back for thousands of feet, even though the destruction blots was ravaging their ranks, they were still stable and their mentality was not affected.

The Demon Prince had reacted quickly enough for Rowan was about to bring Envy to bear on the opening he had created and if he had faltered for the barest of an instant, then Rowan would have been wreaking havoc inside their formation at this time.

The distance they created was almost useless, thousands of feet was even less than an inch with the speeds Rowan was capable of moving, but the Immortal army could also react quickly.

Noticing that Rowan was a bit vulnerable to the kinetic push, they unleashed hundreds of them in a second, pushing him back further and further. Rowan’s feet that were dug into the bridge released bright sparks and flames as his leather boots although imbued with Ascension still possessed enough mortal materials, making it susceptible to friction.

Rowan shielded his body with the broad Axe head of Envy which had expanded to nearly cover his entire body, hidden in the kinetic waves were tiny sneaky spells that would chew through galaxies, he did not want to test them on his skin unless they earned the right to injure him.

He suddenly vaulted to the right leaving a fading shadow of himself behind, as a beam of purple lightning that took the shape of a serpentine dragon swept past his previous position.

The dragon was a combination of divine, demonic, and magical energies compared to the might of a hundred million immortals with powers that eclipsed even a God-King, its roar of rage was silenced as it turned to attack Rowan from the rear but its massive head fell to the bridge, cleanly sliced through, Rowan’s blow disrupting the carefully balanced energies inside of it.

He had not just dodged the attack, his speed meant he had killed the dragon as he was dodging the attack.

Another wave of Kinetic push surged toward Rowan, but a second had already passed, he already understood the energy of this force and they washed over him like a harmless breeze as the strings of Pride played a countering note dispelling the kinetic force a millimeter away from his skin.

Moving forward, he suddenly felt tingles surging through his spine and his intuition gave him an overwhelming feeling of his dying, his heart beat faster in anticipation of his incoming demise and Rowan laughed. He contorted his body into an impossible shape, his bones curving and even flattening in some sections, narrowly dodging an impossible move as seven black spears appeared around him—The power of the Formation Enders Lament was finally unleashed.

As a single target formation, it could release attacks that were supposed to be unexpected. Each spear could easily kill a hundred God Kings, and the attack was so fast and traveled across space without leaving any discernible mark making this formation a terrible weapon against any foe.

It led to the death of countless Outer dimensional creatures who could not anticipate or dodge a weapon that targeted their vitals without any indication. Yet its greatest strength turned to its weakness, if they could be anticipated, then even a mortal can dodge their attacks. Although they would have to have the speed and reflexes ghag would make even Light ashamed.

Even during the attack of the formation, Rowan was already moving, he rotated his upper body, cutting the spears around him in two, and the broken weapons shrieked in pain, instantly tens of thousands exploded in the formation, and this damage was persistent, and for the next few moments, hundreds of thousands died from the backlash, but as quickly as they perished, their deaths was transferred.

Deciding not to push forward towards the army, Rowan slammed the bottom of the Axe on the bride and the weapon began to expand, the shaft spreading out and in a few instants, the Great Axe now taking the shape of a demonic-looking Harp.

Wiggling his fingers to warm them, Rowan settled the head of the Harp just below the nook of his neck and he closed his eyes, beginning to play.

Rowan had not taken the time to study music, but his Angels were a creation of harmony, this meant their talents were his to command, and with the nature of his Titles and his inherent nobility and near perfection, his music… was haunting.

Existence faded to silence and the first string was touched. It brought out a range of melodies that was impossible for any mortal instrument to create, and the universe seemed to hold its breath.

Spells rained down on his position, enough power to scour all the life from the universe a hundred times over, and Rowan did nothing but play. His music sliced across all the dangers as easily as it sliced through the minds of the immortals.

Since he stopped moving it gave the army an opportunity to focus all their energy on a single section of the bridge and for a moment the amount of destructive forces ravaging his position was so intense that reality disappeared leaving a lone figure standing on a bridge of sunset.

Rowan gritted his teeth, his concentration nearly shaken as the endless waves of powers inched closer and closer to his body, his hair seemed to catch fire and his body hummed with energy, the heat and pressure around him had gone beyond what this third-dimensional universe could hold.

In the midst of the chaos, Rowan caught that thread of enlightenment, and his song bloomed. His harmony resisted the power shrouding his body and he pushed.

At first, he wanted a simple offensive move to tear apart the waves of spells bearing down on him, but as he started his music, it resonated with a deep part of him that he had not touched for so long and he lost himself to it.

The complex interplay of harmony, rhythm, tempo, melody, and emotional resonance in the music created a song of battle like no other. Yet it was not just a song of battle, it was more.

It was a story, of a million years of pain and lies, of standing against insurmountable odds and with the might of a single spirit crushed the plans of the wicked that had grown and festered for many eternities.