The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1641

Chapter 1641: Noctis Fear (2)

With the enhanced perception of Noctis, he had been to notice that there was a lot of death domains linked to the different regions of the realm of Death clustered around the Bleak Gate.

It was as he had feared, Rowan had drawn too much attention to himself with the power of his soul and the ridiculous amount of time he took to fully enter the realm of death.

Noctis walked to the uneven walls and touched them; they were sturdy but leaned inward a bit, more by accident than design, and this formed a simple apex where smoke could escape from a firepit dug in a packed-earth floor.

Knowing he could no longer charge into the realm of Death as before, Noctis began his journey back to the Bleak Gate, but now he was using a ritual. With this method, he was not afraid of suffering any backlash from entering a place where so many powerful consciousnesses were converging.

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This had not been just a shelter for them, but a covenant—it was the beginning of all things built, the first echo of civilization, and it was supposed to be the start of something better, but it had been the birth of their ambition.

He looked at the ground but saw no fire pit, only a solid wooden table surrounded by wooden chairs. His memories were intertwining with the present, and he shook his head to push old thoughts aside.

This ritual enabled him to share his perception with the Bleak Gate in a limited manner; he would not be able to see as much if he were directly using his consciousness, but at least he would be protected.

But it did not take long for him to see the one glaring abnormality inside this realm. It was the living and breathing representation of life, nonchalantly standing inside the realm of Death, eyes closed as if he were meditating.

The hut was built from what the earth gave freely: rough-hewn logs stripped of bark by stone and fire. Noctis could see scrapes where he and his siblings had made as they slowly shaped the wood. To put it all together were vines, but Noctis noticed that sinews were now also used to attach the logs together.

This commotion was vastly greater than Noctis had expected. If it were two or even three regions of Death, then he might be able to intercede for Rowan, but the brief glimpse he had seen before his consciousness was blasted away was at least fifty regions of Death!

These words were the only warning Noctis had that something had changed. Afraid that he had been detected by Rowan, Noctis’s senses flared open, and then he sensed the entity that should not be known, and the knowledge that Rowan’s presence had summoned such a thing drove him mad a moment before his consciousness was exterminated.

Besides, they did not know the significance of this energy. It had been with them from the moment of their birth and was considered to be a regular part of life. If only they knew how fiercely a power like this was sought for in the darkness outside of Reality, and the many hungry eyes that searched for it.

There were several windows in this hut, and the size of the hut was now bigger than before. Previously, there had been no windows, only gaps between the logs where wind and the scent of damp soil whispered through.

He woke up to see that his environment had changed; he sensed that he was still inside his castle, but everything around him was different.

The first was the air, which was filled with the profound energy that was present in the beginning. It was this energy that ensured all life in Reality would be immortal and flourish.

Noctis knew that time ran faster around the various regions of Death, and there were rumors that in the central core of this realm, it ran millions of times faster. He watched Rowan for millions of years, many thoughts passing through his head.

Noctis took several deep breaths as if he were trying to remember all the flavors of the past. However, it did not take him a couple of breaths to know that this air was charged with energy, but it was not the same as before.

Noctis looked up and saw that the roof was still thatched with bundles of reeds, which usually sagged under the weight of the morning dew. He remembered how Sheba used to worry that it would collapse on their heads at night. Correct content is on freewebnovel.com

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