The Primordial Record

Chapter 1876: The Poison In His Blood

The ability to change existence at its root was a terrifying power, exceeding any that Rowan had previously controlled. Yet, it begs the question: why was Enoch still imprisoned here if he could change everything he wanted to suit his vision?

This was a fundamental question that demanded careful thought. The answers were waiting for him, and Rowan had learned to believe in his instincts and judgment. If nothing else, experience had taught him the pitfalls that arise from trusting the words of others who were at similar power levels to him.

If he had not trusted in the words of Eosah and followed his plans… If the plans of Primordial Soul had not deceived him… If he had learned to trust himself more deeply, his life’s path would have been different. Rowan did not care if the Primordials had to engage in many years of experimentation to perfect the act of deceiving him; with the tools he had in hand, a little more careful reasoning, and he would have seen the deception.

Why did she show him the remnants of the souls of those who were most precious to him and kill them in front of him? It was simply to ensure that his rage and pain did not cloud his judgment. In many ways, Rowan could see the same thing happening to him here, when it came to the issue of the strange boy whom Rowan highly suspected to be Enoch.

Still, at the moment, the most crucial question that Rowan should be asking himself was this: if Enoch were no longer interested in the food he gave him, even though it was a chance for the boy to alter existence from the ground up, why was he now interested in his mortal’s blood?

Rowan had come close to mastering the thirteenth level of the nameless techniques, but then he paused his efforts. Before fully completing the next layer, his body could still be largely considered to be mortal, even if its lifespan could be measured in millions of years.

The damage he was incurring by consuming all of these lives and holding their weight with his body alone was not something that could be effortlessly shrugged aside, and the trauma from this action was persistent.

Perhaps, this was what made it hard to detect the problem that was growing inside him, but as soon as Rowan settled his mind to reflect on his situation, it was not hard for him to see the effect of the boy’s action.

His body was under an incredible amount of trauma, enough to kill a million immortals simultaneously if they were made to bear the pain he was suffering, and that was just in the aspect of pain; there were so many burdens he was bearing on his body that strained the limits of what his consciousness was capable of.

It was no surprise that among the million problems ailing his body, there was one more sneaky problem that should not be here… his blood was trying to change.

Rowan’s blood was always on a path of transformation, and he had long reached the point where the function of his blood had long exceeded the scope of what blood should perform in the body.

For Rowan, one of the primary functions of his blood was to carry his Will around his body. Even as an Incarnation, the true size of Rowan would equal that of Eosah’s Reality, meaning that any lower-dimensional immortal that was under the eighth dimension would find the accurate scale of Rowan’s body to be infinite.

His Will had become a part of him, and Rowan did not need to practice with it before it became like this; it was simply a result of possessing a consciousness as vast and powerful as his own. However, this also came with certain drawbacks, which made Rowan almost not know his limits.

For a normal immortal that struggled over many eons to master their Will, they would have long being familiar with their limits, after testing it many time in the past, and knowing when something was enough to break them, but Rowan had never known a true limits, even when he could not hold on, he was still improving, and this made it possible for his changing blood to be ignrored by him for so long.

A normal man who was being burned to death would still feel it when all his blood suddenly transforms into acid, but Rowan would have ignored the pain of the fire and acid both when he knew that, in time, his pain resistance and his adaptability would mean all sorts of trauma would be healed.

Rowan manifested a blade of Will and, holding it in his right hand, slowly sliced across his left palm to his elbow to expose the inner workings of his hand. The trait of this change was so deceptive to an immortal like him that his mind could deceive him, but not his eyes.

The wound appeared grievous, but it did not bleed; all the blood flowing through his body continued its regular operation despite the large gash in his hand. His blood was no longer red, but purple, indicating it was at the transition point between mortal and immortal.

His blood appeared normal on the surface, although fiendishly complex in comparison to that of an average immortal; this blood was what flowed in the veins of Reality, and a single drop of it, if it did not instantly kill a mortal, was enough to assure them of a life where the possibility of becoming an Old One was highly likely.

Looking beyond the surface, he saw the poison in his blood; a trillion copies of the boy who had latched themselves to powerful particles inside his body and were attempting to chew through them. However, the vitality of his body, even while diminished, was nothing to scoff at, and the boy was not making any headway.

This was just in his arm alone; undoubtedly, the copies of this boy were in every single part of his body, attempting to chew him to pieces from the inside. Rowan frowned, and he made no attempt to fight against the invaders in his body, knowing that it would be a waste of energy, and he knew that once he reached the thirteenth level of his nameless techniques, the power from reaching that level would eradicate every foreign influence in his body.

And that was not all. With the nature of his techniques, every piece of the boy inside of him would be converted to fuel, and Rowan would be the final beneficiary.

Still, it did not mean that the winner of this silent confrontation had been decided. Even if Rowan eradicated the presence of the boy and fed on his remains, all of his progress would become lost when he began collecting the lives of the dead once more.

Rowan was aware that with every new level he gained in the nameless techniques, his power increased, making the number of lives he could hold increase as well. In that case, the backlash to this action would also increase, and if the blood he had shed previously could fill a lake, then he expected that what came next would fill an ocean.