The Primordial Record

Chapter 1622: The New Light (End of Volume.)

Language has power, especially higher-dimensional language, which can transmit a lot of information with a few words. Rowan had encountered many higher-dimensional languages, from Medan spoken by higher gods and the Primordial Dimensions to the language of the Primordials themselves, which had various variants but was still equally as powerful.

There was one language that drew his interest, and he was always wary of it, which was the Enochian Language. It had the ability to contain Reality-breaking powers in every syllable, but Rowan had never tried to pursue mastery of this language, even though it would multiply his spell-casting capabilities.

Something about the language always felt wrong, even broken, and despite all the advantages it could give him, he never had any intention to develop it.

Until this tattooed man spoke.

He used the Enochian language, but his variant of the language was different; it was complete and incredibly harmonious, which was demonstrated by the way it sank into the space around them.

Immediately, Rowan knew that this was the original language of Reality, the one that was closest to its nature. What had long been available had been twisted by the Primordials to become something so perverse and broken that Rowan, who was not against any form of power, became incredibly wary of it.

However, all of these discoveries paled in comparison to hearing the word: Eosah.

When Rowan evolved to the level of Origin, his physique, which had reached the limit of Reality, had transformed as he gained a new potential, which was the ability to compress all of his powers into one Eos.

One of the reasons that Primordials could not freely roam Reality was due to the sheer size of their attributes, so they had to utilize Thrones. Even their Thrones had their attributes set to a level that would not break Reality.

With the growth of Rowan’s attributes, he was well on his way to becoming like a Primordial. Each of his individual attributes had reached 999,999,999 in value. For any other immortal, this would be a terrifying number. Rowan was sure that even the Thrones of the Primordials would not be able to have such exaggerated stats, and this was not even adding the fact that each of his stats was many times more impactful than those of a normal immortal.

As he evolved and his body grew more bizarre and powerful, each point of his attributes grew alongside him. At his Origin level, a single point of his stats was equal to a ten million points for an ordinary immortal and the only reason his body could still roam Reality was that it did not matter how strong his attributes were, as long as it did not reach or exceed the billion point mark, he would be free from the shackles of Reality.

Before gaining the power of Eos, Rowan had already began making plans to allow his Reflections take his place in Reality while his main body remained in a hidden dimension, but Eos broke this limit, shrinking his entire attributes into one Eos, and allowing him to begin accumulating stats once more, and when he reached his limits, those attributes would be folded into a second Eos.

Before this battle, Rowan had not upgraded his abilities to the level of two Eos, and this was deliberate because he knew that the battle would cost him, and he was unwilling to allocate resources into his body that would be a waste.

Still, Rowan knew that Eos would become one of his most significant powers in the future, but for a being like him whose powers were as plentiful as the stars in the sky, he did not hold any power as Supreme, they were either useful or not useful in the given situation he was trying to solve.

Eos was powerful, but Rowan considered it simply one of the upgrades that came with his powers. He had other abilities similar to this one, but the word Eosah triggered a resonance with Eos, and with the power of a higher-dimensional language, Rowan was thrust into the past.

“No! I cannot fall into this vision, not yet, I am not safe.”

With a burst of willpower that could shake creation, Rowan shook himself from the hypnotic effects of this stranger’s words and found the man looking at him with an appreciative gaze.

A brief flash of fury swept through his consciousness but was swiftly suppressed. Rowan asked the man, and the language he used was the same Enochian that he had spoken.

“Who are you?”

“All your questions I shall answer, but we must leave. You have shown me the path to the future, and together we can rebuild from the ashes. My name is Noctis, and I am the Herald. I come bearing death and salvation.”

Pointing upwards, the heavens shattered and a grand castle descended, the weight of its presence was so vast that the flames of the New Light above rippled. Rowan estimated that just the ripple of the aura emerging from the surface of this castle had reached the level of a Primordial’s Throne.

A powerful suction force that was all-encompassing covered the New Light and Rowan, and they vanished. The tattooed man looked into the distance where the Primordials were battling, and he sneered before he vanished.

Precisely twelve moments later, space rippled, and the Adjudicator stepped through. However, this form was possessed by Primordial Memory and was much weaker than the body that was slaughtered inside the domain of Primordial Light.

He looked around and gave a dark chuckle. With a wave of his hand, Primordial Memory shattered space, time, and fate around this area, ensuring that the events that took place here could no longer be deciphered.

Touching his forehead, he eradicated this body, ensuring there was nothing to tie him to this sabotage.

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The New Light may have vanished from Reality, but her touch remained, and her dominion was growing.

She had awakened with fire and fury, which rippled out throughout creation, as the New Light did not restore what was broken but remade it.

The battle of dominion was cruel and all-encompassing, and if the New Light wanted to hold a space in creation, all old things must be broken, and a new one must be made from the ashes.

Reality was like a sunless sea that had finally met the light of a burning sun for the first time as it boiled into golden mist, from which poured countless new lifeforms that had embraced the warmth of the New Light.

Dead gods, angels, demons, mortals, titans, and all sorts of life forms that had ever lived writhed in their graves as their flesh became kindling for the new dawn. Materials were needed to create a new foundation, and from the dead came that foundation, willfully given for the glory of the light.

The effect of this sacrifice was drastic, as all of Reality celebrated the rising of a new day. Coupled with the increase in the level of Primordial Essence flooding Reality, many began to believe that the rise of the New Light was the cause of this change.

However, as much as this light brought warmth and growth, its fury was not to be underestimated. This light was not gentle; it was hungry, a thing of change as well as destruction.

Furious at the death of all she knew, the New Light purged Reality. It seared away the rot that had festered during the time of the Old Light, where the sun gave no warmth to the soul, and the dead could only find solace in the cold hands of the Primordial Keepers.

Whether Reality wanted it to or not, the New Light did not care. She burned away all traces of corruption that she could find.

But there were places where the Light could not touch. Across all Primordial Domains, the glow of the Old Light still remained, and in many hidden corners of Reality where foul beings had learned to utilize the light to hide their misdeeds, they did not seek the warmth of this new light; instead, they feared it and ran away from it.

Not everyone embraced change, even if it would lead to the betterment of their lives. Contented to languish in this hell that they recognize, the call of the New Light went unanswered.

Yet this would not remain the same for long. The Old Light had reawakened, and his rage knew no bounds. Everything that had been taken away from him would be returned with great interest attached to it.

The New Light was not willing to leave a blemish behind to mar the face of the creation she wanted to achieve.

And so even as her Light cleansed Reality, even as Reality gasped back to life from the brief moment where everything was collapsing into darkness, the New Light left scars behind, with a message.

This message could be found in the bones of the earth, in the dreams of kings, in the blood of all those who survived the long darkness, where Old Light had reigned Supreme,

“I AM THE MEMORY OF FIRE. I AM THE FIRST PULSE. I AM LIGHT ETERNAL. THE DARKNESS RISES, WAR COMES FOR ALL THE LIVING, BUT MY CHILDREN, YOU WILL BE READY. BEWARE, THOSE WHO DWELL IN DARKNESS, FOR YOU SHALL BE DRAGGED KICKING AND SCREAMING INTO THE LIGHT.”

End of volume.

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