The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1844

Chapter 1844: The End (4) 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

The odds against him were ridiculous. Telmus was a mortal who stood before beings with power as close to Primordials as there ever was.

The only reason he had lasted for so long was because, even as a mortal, he had the knowledge of a Primordial, able to recognize that, although the concepts that pounded against his fragile mind, they were not the truth of who he was.

He was under tremendous amounts of pressure, but Telmus had faced such challenges before. From the moment he met Rowan, he no longer knew the meaning of normal or finding a limit; he was always pushing further, and for someone like him who longed to believe he was the best in all creation, this was a humbling experience.

Against the challenges of the judges, Telmus had a way to counter them. He should be on his knees, but he was not; his mind, in an instant, tore itself into seven parts, and he faced all the judges at once.

For the Inquisitor of Destiny, he could perform acts of pure illogical choices that could break his perfect hold over Destiny.

The blades of inevitability that were shredding his flesh would be taken to become his bones, and it did not matter that Telmus was still a mortal; he could understand the concept of inevitability, and he would mold it to his desires.

To the Warden of Mortality, Telmus disregarded his efforts; he had long learned to see mortality as a weapon and not a weakness. With his fragile body, he could hold an infinite Will, and this alone negated the power of this judge.

The mighty golem, the Architect of Hierarchy, Telmus’s presence was an abomination to its order, and no matter what the golem proclaimed to the stable order of things, Telmus disdained such labels.

He considered the Architects of Reality fools, not caring that it was based upon his power. Who was the one who proclaimed that gods should stand above mortals? Were they better than him, greater than him? Let them come before him and say that to his face.

If Telmus had not met a being as profound as Rowan, who broke all the rules, then this judge might have been his downfall, but after everything he had seen, orders of this nature were chains that were as fragile as cobwebs.

To the Tyrant of Prayer, the disgusting mass of flesh who whispered madness into his heart, Telmus had long believed in the strength of his arms over those of the gods since he was a child, and he wondered why this judge would ever think he would fall for such deceptive tactics.

More than half the judges had been perfectly countered, and Telmus showed no indication that he was going to be slowing down.

His mind pushed toward the fifth judge, the Jailer of Potential. This faceless warden with a thousand locked doors made Telmus’s mind itch; he wanted to punch him in the face in order to rearrange it into a dimension that would suit his taste.

The Oracle of End was met with silence. Of all the judges, this one affected him the least, because he knew for a fact that his wife would never cry. His fiery queen would laugh in the face of death and keep a blade hidden underneath her skirt to slice its throat.

This judge had a lot to learn if it took the shape of his wife and made her cry.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify