The Primordial Record

Chapter 1569: A Spark That Thought Itself A Flame

Rowan had never unleashed so much power in his entire life. He had barely begun to unleash the power of his bloodlines and the full might of his dimensional flesh, but his present dimensional level was holding him back.

This battle was not a place where he could afford to micromanage his abilities as he was always used to doing. All of his previous opponents, including Thenos and Seed, had not truly forced him to push for the limits of his present potential, and only going against a Primordial Level Entity that he realizes that he was always meant to fight like this, but he had never met anyone that could draw out this level of power from him.

Rowan’s heart was singing even as his Ether and Essence boiled. Their temperature reached billions of degrees and climbed higher as Rowan summoned the power of a higher dimension inside this space created by a Primordial Beast.

A mystical chant emerging from the depths of creation in the language of Primordials filled this space, emerging from the depths of Rowan’s consciousness as he called upon Fate itself.

An immortal reaching the seventh dimension called upon a thread of their Fate, but Rowan was a dimension as vast as true Reality, and for him, a thread would not do; he called upon the True Dimension of Fate itself.

“Vashtara neth’un dremis,

Sol’mira keth’varis,

Ylthorin fah’dohr imar,

Zorath’kai vel’shandris, Yltharion, zor’falis, keth’mir sol,

Nar’ethis vel’sindra, moth’kai dris!

By the blood of fallen stars,

The Eclipsed Creator summons the thread from afar,

Through the veil where the lost dream,

Fate entwined, yet none may hold

I sever the weave. I unmake the oath!

Fate responded, and a power that emerged from outside of all known Reality itself began to descend.

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Although Rowan was suffering from the power of annihilation, which was tearing his essence apart, and the only thing holding him away from nothingness was his Will, Bahamut was still suffering from the power of destruction that Rowan had summoned.

This high-level concept might not have reached the ninth-dimensional level. Still, Rowan’s innate understanding of destruction had pushed this power to a level that could affect a weakened Primordial Beast.

Bahamut’s skin rippled with intense waves of destruction that wrapped around him like a shroud, burning through his essence, causing the beast to roar in pain.

He had not felt pain like this since the beginning of the Primordial Era, and it aroused his savagery as he began to tear into himself, discarding large amounts of flesh that took the shape of bleeding dreams and shattered dimensions.

Unlike Rowan, whose dimensional flesh seemed endlessly malleable, able to regenerate from any wound as long as his Will was strong enough to hold him away from death, Bahamut was not fully awakened. The essence he had to work with was minor—barely a few oceans of Primordial Essence—and the power of destruction could not be withstood; it could only be cast aside.

This created a window of opportunity for Rowan to do something insane and ascend into a higher dimension during a battle with a ninth-dimensional entity.

Rowan had been on the threshold of the seventh dimension for a while, but due to his present circumstances where he had to ready himself for a war with the entirety of Reality and all the Primordial Dimensions, he could not yet allow himself the freedom to pursue a higher dimension.

He had given many reasons why going to the seventh-dimensional level so quickly from the sixth-dimensional level was madness, and there was too much at stake for him to be tied down under the strain of reaching for a higher level.

Rowan’s existence in the outside Reality was tenuous at best, and the weight of his presence upon Reality was so terrible that he had to constantly simulate the appearance of a lower immortal in order to be able to move around.

He was in the sixth dimension, and a lot of his weight had been spread across his memories, from the past, present, and even to the future. But if he was to seize his Fate, then it was unknown if Reality would be able to handle his ascension.

Unless he entered a Primordial Domain or created a stable space for his elevation, the risk would be too significant, and it was worthy to note that before Rowan summoned Fate, he had believed he would be calling upon its thread, not the entirety of Fate.

This unknown space created by the Primordial Beast had the stability of a ninth-dimensional realm, and if there was any place where he could fully unleash himself as he ascended, it was here.

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In front of Rowan, a tiny rift emerged, struggling to appear inside this space where Reality was extremely dense. Through the rift, a dense Aura greater than the seventh dimension appeared, shaking Rowan to the core.

The Threads of Fate were a seventh-dimensional power, but it seemed like Fate itself was not. Instead, it should be a ninth-dimensional power whose threads had been borrowed by the Primordials to create the seventh dimensions!

To the two entities here, this Rift was small, but if any immortal reaching for the seventh dimension were to see it, they would be struck dumb in amazement because this Rift was bigger than an eighth-dimensional realm and was still expanding, whereas the usual Rift present in an immortal’s elevation was hardly greater than a few million miles.

“How dare you desecrate my domain with the hands of that bitch!” Bahamut roared with rage when he saw the Rift appearing in front of Rowan and recognizing what he was about to do in the midst of their battle.

His massive body crossed through space, the Primordial Beast pulling more of his consciousness from slumber, shrugging off the power of destruction that had enveloped his body; Bahamut eyes, whose numbers could not be counted, glinted with intense hunger and rage.

Rowan pointed his left hand at the charging beast, “You are too late.”

In a single instance, he exhausted his entire Ether and channeled it all into the spells created by Chronomancer Prime. The sound that emerged from Rowan’s body as he burned all the Ether in his body was terrible, and he would have perished if not for the impossible Essence that held him in place as his Ether began to regenerate rapidly.

Bahamut may be a Primordial Beast whose powers rivaled the entirety of existence. Still, even this ancient being was smaller than Rowan, a living dimension that merged with the Land of Origin.

The amount of Ether he had in his body was matchless; even as a sixth-dimensional being, it was greater than any amount of Essence in the body of the Primordial Beast, and Rowan unleashing all of this power at once was equal to the force of every immortal in Reality, from the past to the future releasing all of the Aether in their bodies.

He could be seen as a young Reality whose potential was still largely untapped. He was learning what he was capable of through battle, and everything that was happening was deeply surprising to Rowan, who had never gone all out before.

This space was shattered; it screamed and perished as a beam of force emerged from the center of his palm and traveled through time, slamming into the Primordial Beast.

The Primordial Besst was forcefully halted in place, and Bahamut roared in astonishment as his massive body was not only pushed back across space, but time as well. The power of Destruction that had been shrugged off was drawn back from the past to coat the body of the Primordial Beast once more as new destruction spells were added to the volley.

Wielding Spells from Chronomancer Prime, who controlled the Origin of Time unique to Rowan’s dimensional flesh, was potent enough to affect an entity at the ninth-dimensional level.

Their battle birthed countless universes and dimensions as all sorts of higher-dimensional laws were unleashed from their bodies, but Bahamut’s cries of pain and rage shattered all of these dimensions while he was held in place.

Rowan felt this space of this Reality grow denser as Bahamut pressed under the power of Chronomancer Prime seemed to transform, as it felt as if more of this beast’s awareness had reawakened from its endless slumber.

A voice that had defied ages rumbled under the shadow of Rowan’s power, pressing the beast back across space and time.

“Insolence… Little Flame. I shall erase you from the Cosmic Record. You are a spark that thought itself a flame. A shadow that mistook itself king. You shall learn little ember as you fade.”

A pulse of power blasted out from Bahamut, rending dimensions and birthing horrors that lived for a moment, only to worship the glory of the Beast of the Earth and Fire before they perished and their souls screamed for countless eternities in worship of the great beast of the end.

Rowan grunted as he was pushed back, but he was not deterred; the Rift where the power of Fate was emerging was growing bigger as its presence created a unique radiance that began to replace the heavens above.