The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1154

Chapter 1154: Dawn (final)

Hate knew no language, but it had a million ways to express itself, yet it chose only silence. Its nature made it so that any arbitrary change in its environment influenced its mental state and increased its hate towards everything.

All its eyes pointed towards the city and the pitiful opposition they had created. This act grew its rage and its speed which had become slow began to pick up.

Half the Blood Blessed still standing collapsed, and the homered pillars of golden flames melded together, becoming fifty. This caused a loud cracking sound like thunder as the power of the golden flames multiplied.

The red sun that had sped up began to slow down once more, but it was still moving, and now it was so close to the Ascension Spear, barely a mile away, and with its size, every Blood Blessed, including the ones that could not contribute their flames to this cause could see nothing but red.

When you were close to something so massive, it created a visual dissonance whereby the entire heavens would be covered, so whether they looked east, west, north, or south, the red sun was everywhere, and what was even worse than the sounds it was making were the eyes.

Millions of eyes jammed together that were looking down at everyone with such hatred, it was branding its form into their very souls causing cries of agony to erupt from the masses. The worst hit were the golden giants who still stood against it, the toll on their souls had reached a level that was almost impossible to describe, every second they were holding on could be literally described as a miracle.

Their number had fallen to a hundred, and the stream of golden flame had fallen to ten. One was held by the god-child and the other nine were held by the rest.

The golden flames by now appeared to be solid, and the roar it gave out reflected the tenacity in the hearts of billions of their people. They might be the ones standing, but the flames were the result of the sacrifices of all of them.

Among the hundred were the mother and father of the god-child, and what was amazing was that they were the two with the weakest talents among the hundred, owning only two Natal Treasures, while the least here had three. Their eyes were not on the red sun, but on the back of their child, who stood like an unshakable mountain.

Tears in their eyes, and intense pride in their hearts, they fought on. There was no energy even to scream, their cries only echoing in the flames.

One by one they began to fall, drained of everything, yet passing the flame to those that remained standing, until there were only two pillars of golden flames left, and of the hundred, only five remained.

For the god-child, these past few moments were the longest one he had ever known. Not even killing himself thousands of times to push past the limit of a golden giant could equal what was going on inside his body. Standing on his shoulder was the Lost Flames who was pouring all the runes he had woven into the golden giant's ear.

These runes were to serve as a source of nourishment and restoration to his mental space because the brunt of the load when unleashing the golden flames for the god-child was no longer on his physical body, which had nearly reached a state of perfection, but on his mind.

The runes Lost had been weaving were to aid the kid in control of the flames because ultimately it was this golden giant who had the most likely chance of standing, he would be the one to hold the final flames.