The Primordial Record

Chapter 1713: Stinks Of Fear

Space and Time shrieked in pain as they tore themselves apart in order to make way for the spear, essentially eliminating the distance between Rowan and Primordial Soul, making it so that the moment the spear left Rowan’s hand, it was already in front of Primordial Soul’s face, yet, her response was still impossibly fast, almost as if she could predict or see the future.

A thousand arms erupted from her body and clasped the spear, covering it in a mound of limbs. Primordial Soul detached those limbs a moment before another frightening implosion occurred, vaporizing the limbs and sending a bolt of scarlet lightning piercing towards the Primordial.

Realm’s Butcher Onslaught could not be avoided, even by a Primordial, and a move like this was supposed to be the final play of a desperate enemy that was willing to die and end all existence with them.

Only a being like Rowan could release multiple Realm’s Butcher Onslaughts as if it were nothing, and only a being like Primordial Soul could continue enduring such a killing technique without perishing.

The lance of scarlet lightning pierced towards Primordial Soul, and she shrieked in rage, pushing her body to the limits and receiving the blow. In an instant, Primordial Soul was vaporized, leaving a long gash that melted the space of the Origin Land, displaying a shocking view of Limbo.

Following his previous orders, the Origin Land began to struggle to close the gap in its body. As Rowan collapsed to his knees, he had lost twenty percent of his soul, and the wounds across his Origin Land were severe, since he was losing so much of it that could not be recovered.

When Rowan threw the first punch at Primordial Soul, he came to a frightening realization that she was impossible to kill, her laws were complete and perfect, reaching realms that he had not yet mastered, and she did not just contain the Origin of soul, but so many other Origins.

Her essence was endless, and it did not matter how much he damaged her; she would recover from everything, not unless he erased her from causality itself, making it so that she never existed.

No matter how much it was costing him, Realm’s Butcher Onslaught turned out to be the most effective weapon against a Primordial that he currently controlled, not unless he activated the Enochian Cradle, but Rowan was keeping this power under wraps because he knew that revealing it might possibly lead to driving Primordial Soul crazy and she would disregard everything, even allying with the other Primordials in order to stop him.

In the distance, a glint of purple and gold appeared from nothing, and the bloody flesh of Primordial Soul began to reconstitute itself from this light, bringing an air of desolation and horror that would drive Old Ones to insanity.

Rowan’s eyes brightened when he noticed that the Aura of Primordial Soul was weaker, and he could trace it to the loss of Origin. He could not tell how much Origin Power was inside Primordial Soul, but he knew that she was spending Origins to return to life every time he erased her from causality.

Rowan did not know how many Realities the main body of Primordial Soul had consumed or how many Origins were allocated to this body, but it could not be many. Origins were precious, and Rowan suspected that the nature of a Primordial meant they could not attain Origin with their personal efforts; they had to consume it.

He may be losing a lot using Realm’s Butcher Onslaught, but if he considers how much Primordial Soul was losing in this battle, then he may be slightly ahead.

In the blink of an eye, Primordial Soul had recreated her body, and now she no longer appeared in the form of an abominable many-limbed spider, instead she wore armor made from starlight and her hair burned with a purple flame, her demeanor had changed and she now resembles a warrior only the long draconic tail that burst out of her waist spoiled this picture.

She charged at Rowan once more in silence, and Rowan, too, did the same. At their level, words were meaningless because they knew that only one of them was leaving this place alive.

Primordial Soul was not aware that he had attained the Enochian Crucible, so she felt her secret of escaping Oblivion must never leave the Origin Land, and Rowan would have to die to protect this secret and bring her one step closer to claiming the ultimate prize.

Space and time parted before them, and they clashed. A moment before the clash, Rowan began to take advantage of his homefield.

Using Realm’s Butcher Onslaught so frequently was not just because it was the only weapon that could effectively kill a Primordial; with Rowan’s comprehension, he was rapidly mastering this technique.

Due to how dangerous it was, he could hardly practice with it and so everytime he used it, his consciousness was rapidly deciphering all the intricacies of this technique, and from a novice, he had mastered it to a sublime level in such a short time, and that meant he no longer needed to wield it so crudely, but adapt this teschniqie to his battle style.

Rowan opened his mouth, and the heavens and the earth fell inside. Countless light-years filled with the divine mountains that held his Ether were swallowed by him, and all of them were rolled into a ball and shoved inside his Tri-core sigil, even as Rowan burned another five percent of his soul and poured the power of Realm’s Butcher into the orb in his chest.

Rapid-fire punches and feints between Rowan and Primordial Soul shattered the horizon, causing the Origin Land to wail in pain. This form of Primordial Soul was powerful, but Rowan was rapidly evolving in battle, his blows becoming so strong that when they impacted, they sent shockwaves that flayed the flesh from the bones of Primordial Soul.

She barely flinched as she parried his follow-through attack; the force shattered her arms, but she regenerated instantly, her body stitching itself with writhing soul-threads.

Primordial Soul suddenly tore herself in two, and Rowan attacked her clone, who dissipated into dust in a single strike, leaving him open for her counterattack.

A blade made from the condensed soul of a trillion Old Ones was manifested in her hand, and she struck quicker than a thought.

This blow would have sliced him in two, but he could only angle his body fast enough to lose only a single hand.

Rowan did not slow down, not waiting for his arm to be regrown. He turned and headbutted the sword, snapping it in half, catching the blade with his left hand and infusing it with his Will to end all Primordials. Rowan rammed the jagged stump into her stomach.

Primordial Soul coughed out black blood stained with the tears of eternity, but her free hand plunged into Rowan’s chest and seized his beating heart.

She whispered to him since they were presently close like lovers, “I could end you this instant.”

Rowan grinned, “Do it.”

Seeing the fearlessness in his eyes, Primordial Soul squeezed, but his heart did not stop; instead, it beat harder. Her eyes opened wide in surprise, and she wanted to pull out her arm to rip out Rowan’s heart, but his right hand had regrown, and he seized her wrist, bending it first to break the bone before he pulled it back, ripping her flesh and leaving her hand behind inside his body.

Primordial Soul shrieked, and a storm of screaming faces, their mouths stretched in endless agony, poured out from her body in numbers beyond infinity to bury Rowan, but his Revenant armor exploded into a river of molten corpses that transformed into flaming revenants powered by hate and rage.

These two armies collided, and heaven and earth shattered into pieces.

Primordial Soul and Rowan looked at each other for a moment, and they clashed once more, their mighty bodies tearing through the battling armies.

Slipping under a wicked clawing slice from Primordial Soul that would have decapitated him, Rowan seized her throat like a striking snake, and his chest burst open, blasting the orb he had created towards Primordial Soul.

She responded by sloughing off her skin, escaping from Rowan’s grasp, revealing underneath an army of screaming shades from multiple fallen Realities whose souls had been tortured and transformed over the endless Eras.

“This is getting old…” Rowan growled, “Show me new tricks.”

The orb that blasted out of his chest transformed into an exact replica of Rowan, but it was only his Incarnation as a Slaughter Revenant, and with a sweep of his blade, the Incarnation turned the screaming shades to dust.

Yet the wave that erupted from that blade did not stop at the shades; it continued on until it sliced Primordial Soul in two, and red lightning erupted from her wound to tear her into pieces.

As a new body of Primordial Soul erupted from space, the Slaughter Revenant Incarnation turned to Rowan and chuckled, “Do you smell that?”

Rowan smiled like a wolf, “Yes, she stinks of fear.”