The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1731

Chapter 1731: The Seed

"Eos, wretched child, you are nothing!" Primordial Soul screamed as her face transformed from a hauntingly beautiful visage to a ghoulish monster resembling a humanoid bat with fangs too long for her mouth.

Her eyes shone with yellow radiance that was filled with madness and fury.

"YOU ARE A FLICKER. I AM ETERNAL AND SHALL NOT REST UNTIL EVERYTHING YOU KNOW AND LOVE IS CRUSHED."

Her furious roar slammed into Rowan, who braced himself against it, anchored by his hate.

"Eternity," Rowan grunted, raising the hammer again, his soul body screaming with the shock of exerting so much power, "is a long time to be a tyrant. And even rock wears away under a constant drip. This second blow is for Maeve, remember her name."

The second hammer blow fell, and then a third.

"This is for my mother!" Another blow fell.

"For my children! Hear their names, Zaphriel, Malchiel..." Rowan began calling the names of his Angels, and as he did, a hammer blow fell on the screaming and cursing Primordial.

With each strike, the unmaking accelerated. The magnificent terror of her was being dismantled, not into death, but into void. Her protests became fewer words and more the raw, dissonant notes of creation reversing itself. Her limbs dissolved into their constituent concepts, then into nothing at all. The cold fire in her eyes guttered and went out, not like a snuffed candle, but like a mathematical equation that had reached its final, zero-sum.

Rowan was relentless. His hate needed a place to vent, and the Primordial was durable enough to receive it.

This hatred for her was also as intense as the hatred for himself, because every part of him was aware that anytime he lifted this hammer to unmake the Primordial, he was also killing a part of his heart.

In her screams, he could hear the voices of his mother, and he knew that if he held back, everything would have been meaningless. So Rowan continued, even as his heart was being ripped apart.

More of her essence poured out from that hidden place under this layer, keeping her alive longer than possible, but Rowan did not stop, as long as there was any part of her left behind, he would continue breaking them down.

This was the wonder and the horror of the Altar of Unmaking. If he had killed Primordial Soul anywhere but here on this altar, and she had remnants of herself far away from this place, then those remnants would survive.

But on this altar, every part of the Primordial was forced to return; it would not matter how far they were. Once their souls were captured upon this altar, it would all be collected and unmade. Rowan knew that Primordial Soul would not have liked Rowan to have seen this place; no Primordial would ever sleep easily with this altar under his control, but as it is, the past could no longer be changed.

The entire layer of the soul was shaking itself into destruction as Rowan’s hammer blows continued with relentless precision.

Finally, only her essence remained—a fading, furious impression of herself upon the Altar; everything else had been taken away. Rowan stood over it, breath ragged, the hammer now heavy with a purpose fulfilled.

Where she had been, there was only the empty, neutral stone of the Altar. Rowan dropped the hammer. It clanged against the floor, a shockingly mundane sound in the wake of killing the eternal. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

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