The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1850

Chapter 1850: Final Form (4)

Rowan frowned, "Destroy the Cradle of Enoch? Why would they want to do that?"

"You have to understand, Rowan, Limbo is no longer a place where new Realities can be born. It has become far too poisoned for anything of creation to be seeded within." Eosah whispered, "The last place where Realities can arise is inside the Cradle. I fear that whatever plans the Primordials had when they partook in the creation of you, Rowan, have failed. The chance for them to escape their madness has been broken, and now, in their madness, they would seek to destroy all things."

"But I have killed several of the Primordial Minds inside Reality, and what is left are just Memory, Light, and Life."

Eosah’s eyes widened as she considered the implications of those words, "Then this might lead to a new sort of complication that may end up either a blessing or a great disaster. What would these three Primordials do when they have the others at their mercy? Remember, they themselves are their greatest enemy."

Before Rowan could reply to her statement, a loud sound like an air horn resounded, making Eosah scream in pain and cover her ears, while Rowan went pale and flinched. He was aware that it was the light of his Final Form that was keeping him safe, because this sound attacked the fundamental nature of a being.

Thankfully, the sound stopped in a few short moments, or Rowan would have joined Eosah on the ground, screaming. Relief was short-lived as the sound resumed once more, and this time it continued for longer before it ended.

Rowan was on his knees, with both of his hands squeezing his head as if letting go would shatter his skull from within. A faint fog carrying the power of creation was drifting out of Eosah’s eyes, nose, and ears... the sound was killing her from the inside out, shattering the core of her being.

Gritting his teeth, Rowan decided to act; they could not withstand one more blast from the Primordials, and if the trend continued, the sound that would emerge next would be much longer, and there was a probability that it would never end! Rowan’s intuition, backed by his Will of Truth, was telling him that this sound was not an attack; it was simply the full unleashed Aura from the Primordials. It was the sound of their heartbeats.

The fact that he was able to hear the sound was due to his strength; anyone else would be dead, maybe, even Death itself. The primordials had reached such a level of strength that it was almost impossible for them ever to find their match.

Glorious abominations, they were true horrors, but this did not take away their crushing strength born from an endless life of gluttony and slaughter.

Rowan did not understand how to wield the power of his Final Form, at least not in the way he desired. What he could do was to give vague commands and hope the power he unleashed went according to his will.

He was like an ant with the power to control the weather, if he failed to channel his WIll properly when controlling a hurricane, he would be blown away and crushed.

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