The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1722

Chapter 1722: The Arbor Mentis

Rowan did not know how long he stared at the skies, but when he came to, he noticed that his soul was changing. His skin was turning into gold, and his thoughts into amber.

"So, this is the danger of this place."

The Sanctum of Eternity offered a serene heaven where Rowan could slowly comprehend its mysteries outside the pressure of time. For him, it should have been perfect, but there was a hidden danger here.

If he spent too long in this place, he would become a part of it. His skin would slowly merge with the walls, his thoughts would ascend into the skies to become colors, and he would forget everything—pain, doubt, time...

Rowan smiled, "The Sanctum of Eternity promises peace, but it erases growth. Interesting, but this is not the end of my road."

With a burst of Will that shook his mind away from lethargy and cracked his golden skin, Rowan’s spirit erupted with a roar,

"I Am!"

"I Create!"

"I Endure!"

The entire sanctum began to shake, and as if his body transformed into a blackhole, everything here began to sink into his soul.

This situation was similar to acquiring Space Origin, but unlike when he collected only a small portion of the essence in the first layer of the void so he could avoid the attention of Primordial Chaos, Rowan was not going to hold back here.

Inside this timeless space, Rowan’s soul fed deeply and began to grow.

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Primordial Life had been staring at the flames without blinking for the past eight months; his aura was withdrawn, and if not for the movement of his chest as he breathed the life essence of all beings inside of Reality, he would appear like a statue made of flesh.

Seed alternated between watching the Primordial and looking at the depths of the universes that Primordial Life had gathered, and so he was not fully aware when it happened, but in the distance, precisely at the crown of the gathered universes, a tree had appeared.

It began as a sapling, but he had missed its early growth; Seed did not need to see it to know the significance of this growing tree.

Rooted not in soil but in the sands of forgotten dreams, its trunk was neither wood nor stone, but resembled a vortex of captured starlight and solidified mist, shot through with the veins of liquid mercury that pulsed with a soft, inner luminescence.

Seed was not aware when he stood up, desiring to walk towards the tree, but a formless power held him in place, and he could only observe the tree even as he distractedly fought to free himself.

Its roots were impossible to trace fully, even with the profound sight of a Throne. Some plunge into bubbling springs of primal chaos, drawing up raw potential and reaching depths that no other power should he able to touch in the lower realms.

Others thread through the libraries of the lower and higher realms, absorbing whispered knowledge and touching the realm of Memory in the Great Labyrinth. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Still more anchored themselves in the hearts of sleeping children or the silent studios of artists and mages, feeding on pure, unformed wonder. They glow faintly, carrying rivers of liquid inspiration – shimmering like molten opal –up into the massive trunk.

But it is the branches that defy comprehension. They stretch into infinity, not upwards, but outwards and sideways, piercing the veils between realities. Each branch forks endlessly, not into twigs, but into scenes, concepts, and entire nascent dimensions.

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