The Primordial Record

Surrounded by mist and standing before a crowd where a billion Mages were breaking through with every breath that passed, Andar appeared to have become the figurehead of this new age.

As the change rippled across creation, his figure, carried by the Aethernet, was seen by countless dimensions. If his previous speech was to be believed, this change was something that Reality had never seen, and the consequences that it would bring were so earth-shaking that no one could predict what was to come in the future.

“We would create a new heaven.”

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of space shattering as countless breakthroughs took place and the weight of the River of Time as it was dragged into Reality by the endless calls from the consciousness of numerous immortals stepping into the higher dimensions.

These metamorphoses slightly obscured Andar’s figure. Then, several bright lights descended from the heavens and slammed into the ground, surrounding Andar. The force of this descent pushed everyone away from Andar, including the higher-dimensional immortals behind him, and a space of a thousand miles was cleared around him, leaving Andar alone, surrounded by ten pulsing figures of burning light.

These lights rippled before vanishing, revealing ten higher-dimensional Magus in burning red armor—the Flame Guards, the right arm of the Supreme Magus.

Their armor was made from the heart of the Supreme Magus World, which meant it was directly connected to the Supreme Tower of Endirius, making every Flame Guard an invincible deterrent inside this realm. This armor made the Magus, who wore it, possess a portion of the might of Endirius and this entire realm. Inside this realm, their words were law, and the power they controlled could be regarded as infinite.

One of the Flame Guards stepped forward, and the helm over their heads melted away to reveal their features. It turned out to be a woman, one whom Andar recognized. His silver eyes lit up as the memories from a million years ago briefly flashed through his mind.

When he was a Rank 3 Mage, he had fought against this woman for the right to lead the fate of the universe as it approached its end. Andar had not known what he was fighting for, as he was thrust into battle without warning, but the repercussions of the universe-ending war that followed were still felt to this day.

At that time he had not known her name, or where she came from, only that she was the one who ultimately collected the Supreme Meditation Art that should have been his own, Frost Mourn, whom Rowan had told him its real name which was Lament of Celestials, and there was also her weird Spirit Body talent that made her body almost indestructible. Paired with a Supreme Meditation Art, she was a force of destruction, and Andar had to dig deep into himself to gain victory.

In the terrifying battle that followed, at first, the only thing he knew about her was that she had taken the form of Mira to ambush him, but Andar had been able to see through her guise and he had countered her infiltration with the wisdom he had gained through practice under the guidance of the Archmages of the Black Tower.

Then, what followed was a terrifying clash that exceeded the scope of their Magus Realm, as they unleashed powers equal to those of Archmages in that fight.

Andar had won by using another of his hidden talents, but he did not kill her because the result of such an act was not something he could bear.

Over the years, she had steadily climbed the ladder of a Mage. She was now a Rank 7 Archmage, and in another age, becoming a Rank 7 Archmage in a million years was indeed commendable. Her frightening talent meant she had nearly no equal in the Archmage Realm, and there were rumors that she had killed a fourth-dimensional being inside the Great Darkness. Andar believed that rumor.

Still, Andar’s talent left many geniuses in the dust, and what would have been a shining light was barely a footnote beside his name. When he was an Archmage, she had barely reached the limits of a Mage, and now he was a sixth-dimensional being, and she was still an Archmage.

Without the protection and power granted to her as a member of the Flame Guard, her existence would be too weak even to stand beside him.

Red eyes glowing with barely concealed emotions that were too varied to be described, including jealousy, fear, lust, anger, and countless other emotions, she stated the intentions of the Flame Guards. The glee in her voice was apparent.

“Andar Erikson, Endless Mage, Deceiver and Heretic, you are hereby summoned by the Supreme Tower of Endirius to answer for your false claims against the Supreme Magus, and to give out the details of your collaborators who are involved in this… this…”

Seemingly searching for words to describe what was happening, Andar interrupted her, “You don’t have the words for it, do you?” He grinned as he gestured to the fog around the bodies of the Flame Guards, which was being held back by the power of their armor.

“Do not let that armor be the barrier that keeps you in the old age that is perishing before your eyes. What is here before you is the potential to be all that was denied you, even before your conception.”

The girl frowned and looked around her. The commotion from so many breakthroughs was stirring all of Reality, but inside her armor, she could not sense all of it, and the last thing she wanted was to be feeling this sort of thing.

There was a particular order to things that she believed in, and whatever change was being unleashed upon Reality did nothing but remind her of this obnoxious mage whose presence broke all sorts of common sense.

A firm hand was needed on the steering wheel of Reality, and this chaos that had been unleashed had to be controlled.

One of his kind was bad enough, Andar’s presence in her consciousness alone was enough to hate on for a thousand Eras, but if all of Reality would become like him, she wondered if that was a world she wanted to live in, where there was no distinction between the king and the slaves.

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