The Primordial Record novel Chapter 880

?The words from Golgoth hung in the air, and something seemed to shift in the atmosphere, Rowan saw the stars turn red and the world came to a standstill. Even from the ground, he could feel the pain and the rage coming from the body of Erohim.

"So be it," Erohim smashed the two orbs of silver and gold together, and the entire universe quaked.

A burst of gray force erupted from his body that smashed against Golgoth, shattering his armor and would have annihilated him, but the worm who remained unharmed drove down and wrapped itself around him.

The burst of gray light faded and a surprising scene appeared before Rowan. Erohim was on his knees, and the Third Prince was behind him, holding his beating heart, on his face was a familiar grin, before seizing the hair of Erohim and whispering in his ears. Perhaps it was because of the nature of this memory that Rowan could hear what he said,

"You were always so arrogant, keeping us in your shadows as you hold all the light, I know you never expected this, but the heights of my ambition were too great for your tiny mind to accept, and so you fell just like everyone who stands against me. Yet your name will not be forgotten, I will make sure that every story that is known of your name until the end of time will show you for what you truly are… a coward and a slave. Oh Erohim, how I wish I could show you the future and my victory."

The memory froze in place, Rowan felt the earth tremble and reality seemed to fuzz at the edges and then time reversed and the battle began again, the memory replaying from the start.

Rowan watched this play out two more times, watching the Third prince's great body being shattered alongside his Will. Yet even with this grave injury, he was still the one who struck the greatest blow and ended the battle.

Stroking his chin, Rowan considered that perhaps the Third Prince had allowed himself to be grievously injured in order for Erohim to shift his focus away from him, allowing for the killing strike to happen.

If it were anyone else, Rowan would think it was an accident, but he was like the Third Prince in a manner, that they would make great sacrifices for their cause. Even if this injury had stripped him of a greater portion of his power, he had still succeeded.

When the memory began playing again for the third time Rowan looked away as he perused the surroundings, he could feel the earth begin to shake underneath him and the groans of pain from this reality, and he knew there was not much time before this place was destroyed, the progress of his World Seed tendrils was bringing it down.

If that was the case there was a last curiosity he wanted to be satisfied, even though he felt he already had a ninety percent assurance of who they were; he wanted to see the true body of the last Reflection. _{freёwebnovel.com}

The battle began again in earnest and Rowan began to walk towards the first collapsed figure. He had to be careful because this memory was so complete that the combatants here may be able to notice him, and he would rather not face the Third Prince at his full strength.

Suppressing his Aura to nothingness, he began to push his way through the ruins, he did not need to get close to the battle, nor could he send his perception over to see the first fallen figure, he just needed to find the right angle, so he could see into the massive crater.

Rowan had seen the right place for that, and at the seventh repetition of the memory he was able to reach it. His eyesight could peer across the galaxy, and although the crater where the first Reflection had fallen was hundreds of miles deep, he could still see it clearly.

Rowan was about to eject his consciousness from this memory when a silver and golden light appeared in front of him and began to swirl around, before coalescing into the shape of a man. He stood as still as a statue and his eyes looked at the battle being fought.

Erohim as it turned out was bald, his eyes were brown and filled with a sharp light like a bird of prey, and even his hooked nose lent to that image, heavily muscled, he was the spitting image of a powerful warrior, only his demeanor that was filled with a sort of melancholy and tiredness gave him the aura of a scholar.

'This man is an enigma,' Rowan thought, he could feel a darkness inside Erohim that reminded him of Limbo, that land that was filled with nothing but evil, but that darkness had been carefully placed on a leash. It was like looking at a person who had every reason to be evil, yet he was an avatar of good.

The memory had reached the portion where the Third Prince had stuck his hand inside through the back of Erohim, and the man beside him sighed and looked at this scene,

"See the prison of my own making." he said, "Viewing my shame over and over again so even in death I don't forget my fate. After all this time you would have thought the pain would have ended, instead, it only grows. A fitting punishment, I think."

He turned to Rowan, his eyes filled with pain, and said, "You can understand this fate, after all, you are me and I am you. Our essences are… connected. Meeting you was always inevitable, even death could not stop it."